Chapter Forty Eight
As the train puffed northward, Marjorie watched the landscape roll by. Thomas was absorbed in the paper and had been since they left London. How anyone could spend that long reading one newspaper had always astounded her. She'd tried to start a conversation with him, but she knew it was useless until he'd finished what he was doing. She sighed and tried to open her novel again.
"If you're not enjoying the book, why do you read it?" Thomas asked, still distracted by the newspaper.
"I am enjoying it" Marjorie countered defensively "I'm just disappointed I need to read it at all. It's a long journey to pass entirely in silence!"
Thomas lowered his paper and crooked his eyebrow "You know I enjoy the paper, and I so rarely get the chance to read it properly these days." His face disappeared behind the paper again "I wanted to make sure I was up to date. I'm sure Lord Merton gets to read his paper every day" He grumbled.
"I don't know that he does" Marjorie mused "From what Isobel mentioned before, he's just as likely to be reading a medical journal as a newspaper. Of course, he's busy with estate business as well these days." Thomas groaned.
"I do hope he's not going to be one of these gentry bores" He turned a page of his newspaper roughly "You know I detest those chaps who are still hankering after the past. You'd think the war would have shaken them up a bit!"
"Well, I know the war certainly shook Isobel up, so be careful what you say this weekend!" His wife pointed out sharply "These people will be in our lives for a long time. I don't want you creating any more of a difficulty that you already have!"
"Me?" Thomas looked shocked.
Marjorie just rolled her eyes and turned pointedly back to the window.
-TW- -TW- -TW-
"Marjorie!" Isobel waved as the carriage door opened for her friend to alight.
"Oh, Isobel!" Marjorie gave her a brief kiss on the cheek "I'd forgotten how far Yorkshire is from London!" She turned back to Thomas "Darling, this is Isobel"
Thomas barely smiled "A pleasure Lady Merton. Thank you for inviting us"
"It seemed a perfect opportunity with Tim and Julia visiting this weekend" Isobel parried back "I don't know if you've met my husband?"
"I'm sure we've seen each other about the House" Dickie smiled and extended his hand.
"Quite so" Thomas replied with little conviction.
Stifling a sigh, Isobel took Marjorie by the arm to lead the party to the car "So, what's the latest news from London?"
The men followed silently behind. This could be a very long weekend, Dickie thought to himself.
-TW- -TW- -TW-
Larry had been out at a 'business lunch' since mid-morning and Amelia thought this a perfect opportunity to start her information gathering operation. She knew she had to be careful not to raise suspicion from the staff, but the sooner she could gather the evidence she needed, the sooner the plan could progress. She'd spent an hour or so pretending to read on the veranda, and now felt she could move into the study to write some letters. In reality her correspondence was ready to post, but it was a good cover for being in the office and for looking through the desk.
Amelia had always admired her Father, and she'd learned a lot from him in the years before he thought she was too old to be hanging around his office. She was an old hand at conducting a search without the target being any the wiser after the fact. It wasn't the first time she had employed her skill against her husband, but it was the first time she was doing it for someone other than herself.
For all that Larry had got himself embroiled in while they were in London, he was still rather an open book from her perspective. His desk and his papers were still organised in his own way, and that made it easier to locate the information that Larry thought most important. As she suspected, the contracts and correspondence that her friends wanted was all here, and just as clearly damning as they'd thought it would be. It was clear he was involved in a political heist, and he obviously thought he would gain some of that power and standing for himself as well. Amelia shook her head. They'd barely escaped from London, were exiled for the rest of their lives, and yet he was still arrogant enough to want to play games with men who were far more experienced and intelligent than he was. She sighed, and snapped the last drawer shut, but as it was closing something caught her eye.
Opening the drawer again, Amelia narrowed her eyes at the small silver key that sparkled in the corner half hidden in an old cigarette packet. This was something new, and a cold chill ran up her back. Holding the key, Amelia considered what it could be for and started to look around the room more carefully. The construction of the house meant there couldn't possibly be any hidden wall safes, so whatever it was must be hidden in plain sight. As she was thinking, she heard footsteps in the passageway outside and hastily turned to the page in front of her which was already set up to look like she was in the middle of writing a letter. The person passed by without entering, and Amelia let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding.
Standing up, she moved to the middle of the room and considered the options. Larry was a lazy man, so although he had a hiding place, he wouldn't want to go through anything elaborate to conceal it or to access it. The place he'd chosen to keep the key just showed how complacent he was. She crossed to his drinks cabinet and opened it, inspecting the dimensions and finding nothing amiss. She looked in another couple of places and was just beginning to think she'd have to abandon her search for today when she noticed the leg of one of the chairs was exposed.
Larry had chosen a set of heavy wooden chairs for the office, upholstered in crimson red brocade and with skirts that fell to the floor and fastened around the outside of the chair legs. It gave the illusion that the chairs were solid, like an armchair, when in fact they were lighter and easier to move. Amelia crossed to the chair in question and noticed that some of the buttons were undone and others had been mismatched. Quickly she undid all the buttons and reached inside. She smiled as her hand found a cold, metal box that was fixed to the underside of the seat. It was too close to luncheon to risk opening it now, but at least she could use her next opportunity to her full advantage. She replaced the key and finished her letter feeling like she'd done the best morning's work since arriving in the country.
-TW- -TW- -TW-
"Oh Isobel! It's lovely!" Marjorie beamed as she surveyed the room that they had been allocated for the weekend.
"I hope you don't mind sharing" Isobel gave her friend a tentative smile "but we only have so much space and I thought it would be nicer for us all to be in the same house for the weekend."
"Of course we don't mind sharing, do we Darling?" Marjorie tried to include her husband in the conversation. Thomas just shrugged and grunted, crossing the room to look out of the window.
"I'll leave you to freshen up." Isobel shared an understanding look with her friend "Then we thought we might take a walk up to the Abbey for afternoon tea. It will be nice to stretch the legs and you can meet the extended family."
"As long as we won't be imposing?" Marjorie queried.
"Of course not!" Isobel replied "Cora was so pleased to hear you were visiting, she made me promise to bring you up to see them. Well! I'll leave you to it."
As the door closed behind her, Marjorie waited a slow count of ten before rounding on her husband.
"What has got into you today!" she hissed "You are making a real show of yourself!"
"What have I done now?" Thomas hissed back "I haven't said a word!"
"My point exactly!" Marjorie crossed her arms pointedly "I told you Dickie may be able to help you, but you're never going to build a relationship with him if you can't bring yourself to talk to the man!"
"I will handle this in my own way!" Thomas replied before stomping off to the bathroom. Marjorie sighed and pinched her nose in frustration.