Jeremy leaned past Fanny and nudged the door open wider with his foot. He peered into the dark recesses of the chamber and saw nothing and no one to cause alarm immediately. But he stepped around Fanny and entered the darkened bedchamber ahead of her. He crossed the room to the windows and flung open the drapes—hoping not to reveal an intruder by moonlight.
As far as he could see, the chamber was empty now.
But it was not as neat as he expected it to be. Not like last night, when they’d returned to Stapleton late after the long day of grief.
He went to the hearth and stirred the fire to life. When he had a flame, he lit a few candles around the room and turned to study the chamber.
There were books spread out across Fanny’s bed, open, as if someone had been flicking through them. Someone had clearly been in her room while she had been downstairs. He grew very angry when he spied drawers open and undergarments haphazardly hanging from them. No thief would ever leave so obvious a sign of their actions. It invited an investigation.
“Someone has indeed been here, Fanny, but they are long gone,” he announced, beckoning her to come and look for herself.
Fanny rushed into the room and spun around wildly, horror written all over her face. “My books and journals are out. My jewels?” She raced around the chamber, checking into all the nooks and crannies where she must have stored her possessions. She sagged. “Nothing has been taken. Thank God.”
Jeremy knew all about stealing. How not to leave a trace that you’d ransacked a chamber. Whoever had done this was an amateur and in a hurry, or had another motive. “Are you sure nothing was stolen?”
She combed through her jewel box a second time. “Yes. Who could possibly have done this?”
Jeremy quietly pushed the door shut. The houseguests sprang to mind, but they were all peers and he couldn’t accuse one without proof. “Are you sure everything is accounted for?”
“I believe so. But the information in my journals…” Her eyes narrowed. “That is not for public consumption.”
He passed a journal to her. “What do these say?”
“That one states how much I have deposited at the Bank of England. The others list all the properties I own and their values. Improvements I want to make. In short, the ledgers are a reckoning of my entire fortune and my future plans to increase it.”
A fortune in information if one knew how to take advantage of that.
While Fanny collected the ledgers from the bed into a neat pile, Jeremy went to inspect the lock on the door, because it had slowly opened itself again without help.
He studied the latch and wood, then swore under his breath. “It’s been forced open,” he said to her in a whisper. “I can’t secure it again, either. Come, gather up your valuables and we’ll inform the duke.”
“Not tonight. I don’t want to worry Papa before the wedding.”
Fanny was rifling through the small case Jeremy had brought to Stapleton for her. And then she went through the contents a second time.
“Worry him? For heaven’s sake, Fanny, nothing material might be stolen, but your right to privacy under your father’s roof has been. You must tell him.”
She paused finally in her frantic search. “Oh dear.”
“What?”
“Our agreement. It was in the satchel this morning, and now it’s no longer there.”
Jeremy narrowed his eyes on her. He hadn’t really read the agreement. He couldn’t actually read more than a few words, but Lady Rivers had not known that when she’d insisted he sign it. She’d told him enough that he’d been grateful; to have someone take an interest in his career and give him a little in the way of funds was more then he’d hoped for. “Are you sure you haven’t simply misplaced it?”
“No, it was definitely inside this journal.” She covered her mouth and stared at him a long time. “This is a nightmare.”
“Why?” Jeremy drew closer to Fanny, curious about her panic. “Our arrangement shouldn’t cause an embarrassment for you. Other actors have wealthy patronesses support them all the time and no one seems to care very much.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But with you it’s different.”
That made him smile but he shook aside the sense of pride. “Now about your father…”
“Tomorrow. I’ll need you to stay with me again tonight,” she asked, looking up at him slowly. “If the door will not lock, I simply won’t be able to close my eyes wondering if whoever it was will come back.”
“Stapleton will want to know about this,” he persisted.
“I’d rather deal with this matter without his help.”