as he left it,” Miranda answered.
“Where are his belongings?” Epworth asked.
“In the attic,” Adam answered.
“The attic?” Epworth asked.
“Yes. Uncle Jonathan liked to be up and away from everyone, and look out at the sea,” Miranda answered.
Epworth looked to Adam. “Yet, you’ve not been up there?”
“Not in many years. Grandfather preferred to lock documents away in other areas of Hollybrook Park without having to climb four flights of stairs every time he needed something.”
“Every treaty that there has ever been is in my quarters,” Uncle Jonathan offered.
Every treaty? How many had there been?
“Miss Miranda, you are familiar with your uncle’s belongings?” Her Grace asked.
“Yes, but I’ve never come across any treaties.”
“Take Wesley and search until you find them,” she ordered and pointed to the ceiling with her cane.”
Miranda jumped from her seat. “I’m certain that I need no assistance,” she asserted. As much as she wished they could be as they were this past summer, it wasn’t to be. Epworth didn’t trust her and might as well have called her a liar.
“I insist that you do.” The duchess narrowed her eyes. “A resident of Bocka Morrow should be assisted by a resident of Laswell so that there are no questions as to authenticity, or questions of missing documents.
Miranda gasped. How dare Her Grace even suggested that she would be so dishonorable. Had Epworth learned to distrust from her?
Epworth set his cup aside and stood. “I am happy to be of assistance.”
“I’ll help as well,” Adam offered.
“You, Lord Lynwood, have a wife to attend to and guests arriving within hours,” Her Grace reminded Adam. “Your time is better served elsewhere.”
“Yes, of course, Your Grace,” Adam stuttered as if in shock at her rebuke.
Goodness she was dictatorial. Then again, she was a duchess and used to ordering others about.
“Hopefully, this won’t take too long,” Epworth murmured quietly.
Miranda wasn’t certain if he was being hopeful for answers, or he wanted to be away from her as quickly as possible. It was best not to think on it and just find the documents.
“It would go quickly if my great-uncle could somehow let me know where I could find them in the first place.”
“That would be far too easy, Miranda.” Her uncle’s laughter followed her up the stairs.
Why was everyone being so difficult when they could be done with this in a matter of moments?
Wesley followed Miranda up the flights of stairs and into a large, masculine room, bathed with an abundance of light from large windows overlooking the sea. Thank God his headache was gone because he would have not been able to remain in here above a moment otherwise.
Wesley paused and took in the setting. This was a comfortable space with a large desk set at the far end of the room holding charts and leather-bound journals or possibly ships’ logs, and behind was a wall of bookshelves, filled to over-flowing. The only other furniture within was a solid settee, covered in rich leather and matching chair. Before the window was a mounted telescope that could be used to look out for ships or gaze at the stars. To his left was another open door and beyond a sleeping chamber.
This was a gentleman’s room and Wesley could envision himself spending hours within, reading scholarly papers, and studying the stars. Perhaps he should investigate the attics at home and maybe carve out a similar place for himself.
Odd that there’d be a sleeping chamber up here, but perhaps Captain Vail preferred to sleep away from the others as well.
The entire space was a curiosity, but as Miranda was with him, Wesley knew that he’d not be exploring the sleeping chamber no matter how tempted he may be.
His desire for her had not waned, and in fact, had grown only stronger and it was all he could do not to take her in his arms once they were away from the others, but he’d not do so. He accepted that she believed in ghosts, and pixies, and probably every other magical creature imagined by man. However, he could not accept that she’d blatantly fabricate an encounter and then lie to him about it. For those reasons, Wesley pushed away his desire and prayed this week passed quickly.
“Now, where to begin?” Miss Miranda fisted her hands on her hips and glanced about the room, as if she were totally unaware that they were quite alone and in such an intimate setting. Which was for the best, of course.
“Any help would be greatly appreciated, Uncle Jonathan,” she said as