‘Indeed?’ cried Dido. ‘And are you quite sure that they took nothing at all? What of the candlesticks? Were they not stolen?’
‘No, I do not think so.’
‘But they are of good, solid silver! Very valuable. Why would any thieves disregard such things and begin searching elsewhere? Unless…’ she stopped, frowning thoughtfully.
Neither of her companions took much notice of her question. They were both too occupied in either lamenting or rejoicing over the business. But, later that morning, when Mrs Midgely had hurried away to spread the glad tidings and Flora was shut up with her mantua-maker, Dido had the breakfast room to herself, and she was able to sit down quietly to consider it all.
She sat in the sun which was flooding through the french doors, fixed her eyes upon a robin bobbing about upon the veranda, and gave herself up to very serious thought.
First she considered Mrs Midgely’s glee over the burglary. It had been so very marked! She had positively delighted in it. What was one to make of this fresh evidence of the woman’s dislike of Henry Lansdale?
And the burglary itself was a very strange business! Why, Dido wondered, had such valuable goods as the candlesticks been left untouched? Was it possible that the two ‘big rough-looking fellows’ had come not simply to plunder but to search for something particular – something which they did not seem to have found?
Well, she thought with a little shake of her head, perhaps it would all prove to be no more than a thing of chance, unconnected with Mrs Lansdale’s death. After all, the very appearance of Knaresborough House spoke wealth loudly enough to tempt a thief. But somehow she could not quite think that it would prove to be a matter of chance. She could not quite forget Mrs Midgley’s description of the drawing room – the evidence that a search had been made.
She was becoming restless now. She must do something… Perhaps she would just walk out to look at Knaresborough House – call upon Miss Prentice, perhaps. There must be more discoveries to be made about this burglary.
She jumped up and fetched her bonnet from her bedchamber – then hesitated upon the stairs. Mr Lomax might call on them again today – call while she was out. She half-turned – nearly took the bonnet back.
But, with so many important questions filling her head she did not think she could bear to sit quietly at home – even for Mr Lomax… She would not be away long… If he called, Flora would be sure to detain him until she returned.
She put on the bonnet and set off.
Chapter Twelve
Miss Prentice was delighted to receive another visit from Miss Kent: it was so remarkably kind of her to call; she did not know how to thank her enough; it was so very…
As Dido entered the gloomy little parlour, half-blinded after the brilliance of the sunshine, Miss Prentice was sitting at a corner of the large desk and very busy about settling her accounts; but she immediately swept her papers together, put them into the deep, scarred drawer of the desk and, after struggling a moment with its broken lock, succeeded in shutting them out of sight. Then she unhooked her spectacles from her ears and turned gratefully to her favourite seat beside the window.
Dido was particularly glad to follow her and to sit down there, for her chief motive in coming was that she might look at Knaresborough House unobserved. And it was very convenient indeed to sit in the dark room, listening with half an ear to Miss Prentice’s chatter and looking out at the big house.
The sun was shining warmly upon the house-front, and gleaming upon its windows. There were, Dido noticed, three ground floor windows upon each side of the door. They were all casement windows and cut rather low down to the ground. And the one just to the left of the door – the one through which the burglars had broken – was particularly conveniently placed: close to the front steps. It could have been climbed through with the greatest of ease.
As she watched – and Miss Prentice talked about Sir Hugo Wyat’s new curricle and Sir Joshua Carrisbrook’s nuptials – a tall thin workman in a very long white apron appeared at the front of Knaresborough House and set to work upon mending the broken catch of the window. She watched him for several minutes and then took the next opportunity of a slight pause in her companion’s talk to say, ‘My cousin and I were extremely concerned to hear of Mr Lansdale’s latest misfortune.’
‘Ah!’ said Miss Prentice with a little frown. ‘I daresay Susan has told you all about it.’
‘Yes, she has. She was with us before we had finished our breakfast this morning.’
‘Oh dear,’ fretted Miss Prentice, ‘Susan has a thousand good qualities, I am sure, but I wish she was not quite so fond of spreading ill-tidings. It is so very…’
‘It is only her way, I am sure,’ said Dido, seizing upon the opening, ‘but I cannot help but wonder… I wonder whether she may have a particular dislike of Mr Lansdale. She seemed almost pleased to convey this news of the burglary.’
Miss Prentice sighed deeply. ‘I confess, I have thought as much myself, Miss Kent. But I know of no reason why she should dislike the young man. For he seems – from everything we hear about him – to be a remarkably good young gentleman. We hear nothing against him – his behaviour is unexceptionable and his opinions sound.’ She paused, shook her head. ‘If they were not, if it should appear that he had unsound opinions, or progressive ideas, then I should not wonder at her dislike. For she has quite a horror of progressive ideas – she always has. And, of course, I agree… But Mr Lansdale is a very proper young man.’
‘Yes, I am sure he is.’
They sat in silence for a while, Dido watching the workman at the window and Miss Prentice watching a very smart carriage with a coat of arms upon its door.
‘I wonder,’ said Dido at last, ‘whether you happened to notice any strangers approaching Knaresborough House yesterday evening – or anything which might be connected with the housebreaking?’
‘Yesterday evening? No, I do not remember seeing anything at all. But Mary was with me again yesterday evening. She often sits with me after dinner now.’
Dido was about to ask her more, when she noticed that the man had finished repairing the window latch and was beginning to pack his tools away into his bag. She rose hastily, took her leave and was – by only loitering in the street a few minutes – just in time to accidentally fall in with him as he reached the gates of Knaresborough House.
‘I am very glad to see that you have restored the catch of Mr Lansdale’s window,’ she remarked, ‘for one cannot be too careful with such villains about in the neighbourhood.’
‘Ah well now, miss, as to that,’ said the man, shifting his canvas bag of tools from one shoulder to the other and looking exceedingly wise, ‘as to that, I reckon you’re right. Can’t be too careful.’
‘Do you suppose,’ she asked, ‘that it was very difficult to break into the house? Was the catch upon the window very strong?’
‘Well…no… As to that, it’d only take one really good hard push of that window to break the catch.’
‘So,’ mused Dido, ‘the burglar would not have needed any sort of tool to break it open?’
‘No, Miss. There weren’t no kind of tool or bar used to break that open. I’d have seen the mark of it on the window frame if there’d been anything like that.’