Paladin75

"Where has he gone?" Philippe grumbled to himself before he began shouting for Monsieur Belmont.

"He'll return in a moment." Gabe staked his shovel into the dirt and wiped his forehead. He tied a cloth over his face and pulled on his gloves. "I'll open the bag of lime."

Philippe blinked several times until his vision came back into focus. He'd felt his stomach twisting midway through their task of digging a hole large enough for Turro's body, and now that they were done he knew his queasiness was due to his injury and not the body wrapped in a blanket.

"How many traps are there, do you think?" Philippe questioned. He watched Gabe split open the bag of lime before he turned and donned a handkerchief over his mouth and nose and a pair of leather gloves stiff from the cold.

"Hell if I know."

Philippe stared at the younger man a moment as he placed lime in the bottom of the shallow hole. He'd never seen Gabe perturbed and the change in demeanor left him wary.

"I'll ride with you to see Laure and Sabine. Sophia and Citrine should have no trouble here, wouldn't you say?"

Gabe made no reply. He grabbed Turro's feet, still hidden by the blanket, and allowed the body to fall into the grave.

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

Philippe stared at him a moment before he exhaled hard. "I apologize, Monsieur, I hadn't realized you and Sabine—"

"Sabine and I what?"

"Nothing…" For once Philippe backed down and watched Gabe cover the body with lime. He'd always thought Gabe was fond of Sabine, but he never knew for certain—especially once Citrine was employed. Now was not the time to argue.

"Sophia is fortunate," Gabe said at last. "She has not suffered a fate worse than death."

"You wish to make me feel guilty?"

Gabe shook his head. "I would never wish ill on your sister."

"I didn't say—"

"May we finish this, Monsieur Dupree?"

Belmont walked into sight and their conversation ended.

"No ax?" Philippe questioned.

Belmont, who appeared more sullen than usual, shook his head.

"Did you find the overseer's house?"

He offered no answer or eye contact as he grabbed Philippe's shovel and tossed dirt into the shallow hole. Perplexed, Philippe stood and stared a moment before he was nearly hit in the stomach by the end of Belmont's shovel. He took his spot by a nearby tree and watched, feeling inadequate and unneeded.

No one said another word until the task was done and their horses had been returned to the stable.

"I'll feed and water them, then I intend to pay a visit to Sabine and Laure," Gabe said as he took all four horses.

Philippe nodded uncomfortably, feeling his employer staring hard at him. Once Gabe was out of sight, Philippe cleared his throat and turned toward the estate owner. "If you wouldn't mind, Monsieur, I shall accompany Gabe."

Belmont nodded, though his expression told Philippe that he had much on his mind.

"Well, then, sir, I shall inform Citrine that two less plates are needed for supper."

For the first time since they'd returned from the other end of the property, his employer met his eye. "The overseer's house."

Philippe nodded, confused as to whether it was a statement or a question.

"Monsieur?"

"Where is the deed for its sale?"

Philippe's eyes narrowed. "My apologies, sir, but I'm not certain. Do you wish to sell a portion of the property?"

Belmont looked away and shook his head. "I want to see the original owner's name."

Philippe gave a humorless chuckle. "If memory serves me correctly my aunt is in possession of all important documents. I believe she intended to send them to you soon, if she hasn't already done so. Perhaps they've been stashed in a drawer. Sophia may know. In my experience women usually know where everything within a house is located, even when it's not their own."

"Ann," Belmont mumbled. And then he walked away.

-o-

The chilly draft gave Erik away as he returned home and quietly shut the front door. Sophia, who had taken over the duty of mixing frosting for Citrine's cake, swirled her finger along the edge of the bowl and licked it clean before she peeked around the corner.

Once she had wakened from her afternoon nap, Sophia found herself busy with household chores. Citrine set her flying through the Manor with sheets and clean towels to fold and she was glad for the distraction. In fact, she couldn't think of a more welcomed one.

"Citrine made—" With a squeak she jumped back, startled when she found Erik standing directly before her. "You're like a mouse on stilts."

"Pardon me?"

"Quiet, with long legs." She smiled. "It's not exactly funny if I need to explain it to you."

"I suppose not," he muttered. He appeared distracted.

She held her spoon out to him. "Frosting? It's a little too sweet for my taste but it's good."

"No. Thank you." He briefly looked away and she followed his gaze toward the stairs. "Your brother said you may know where the deed to the property is kept."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "The deed?"

Erik nodded, the left side of his face taut. "I must see it. I must see the name."

"It sounds rather urgent."

He met her eye and searched her gaze. When she looked at him she wished he would remove his mask and allow her a more complete view of his expression.

"Were you employed here when your aunt purchased the property?"

"I believe it was several days after the purchase was finalized. It was in August when Philippe and I came to live here. The seventeenth if I remember correctly."

"Was it abandoned?"

"Why don't we sit a moment and wait for Citrine to return?"

It came as a surprise when Erik nodded and followed her into the parlor. She smoothed her skirts and took a deep breath before she answered his question.

"As far as I know, the property was inhabited by an estate guardian. I'm not quite certain who it was, but this house contained furniture. I had a terrible time removing soot from the hearth. And there were cobwebs above the windows." She paused when she saw the disinterest in his expression. She cleared her throat. "I haven't the slightest idea who lived here. But it must have been a woman."

"Why?" he blurted out.

Sophia shrugged. "There was quite a bit of costume jewelry in one of the rooms. I remember Philippe sent it off with some beautiful armchairs. They must have been heirlooms."

Her words held his full attention though she couldn't tell if it pleased him or made him more anxious.

"Where were these items sent?"

"It wasn't my place to know. I apologize. Perhaps the records are here somewhere. I wouldn't know where to begin to look for them and I doubt Philippe would remember. We were quite busy with preparations. My aunt thought you would travel here at the beginning of October but then she sent word that she didn't know when you would arrive and…well… I'm afraid I haven't been much help."

He shook his head and lowered his gaze. Seeing his troubled expression, Sophia leaned toward him and placed her hand on the arm of his chair and saw him stare at her fingers.

"May I ask whose name you are searching for?"

He stiffened in his seat and met her eye. "My father's."

"Claude Belmont?"

Erik's pale green eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"There's a grave marker behind the Manor. It bears his name."

His lips parted and he blanched before he tore his gaze away. Sophia placed her hand on her chest.

"Did you…did you not know?" she asked quietly.

Erik made no reply. He started to rise from his seat and then paused and lowered his head. His hands began to tremble and Sophia couldn't resist the urge to place her hand over his.

"And his wife?"

Sophia awkwardly glanced around the room before her gaze settled on the arm of the chair. Erik's hand felt cold, almost lifeless. She was certain he hadn't known.

"There was no mention of a wife."

He exhaled and closed his eyes, his hand relaxing beneath hers.