Page 77 of Wolfhaven

“We’ll never know if we don’t go in. Shall we?” Evaine gestured to the door. None of them moved to push it open.

“Would you like to do the honors?”

“Not really. I’m terrified of what we might find, honestly.”

“So am I.” He smiled ruefully. “Probably nothing.”

“Get out of the way,” Hazel grumbled, pushing past them and depressing the latch. It clicked easily. “We can’t stand here all day debating who’s going to—oh!”

The three of them stumbled over one another, staring around in awe. Gareth lifted the lamp high.

Gold silk wallpaper adorned the walls. Burgundy velvet curtains covered the windows. Evaine ventured further into the main room, which contained a striped silk sofa, a large gilt and lacquer armoire, and a matching chair. A huge bed dominated one corner of the room, hung with brocade.

Everything was new and very expensive. “How did they cram all this stuff in here?” Gareth asked in bewilderment.

“I assume they took the furniture apart and reassembled it indoors. That Vernon was a handy sort,” Hazel said darkly.

“Look,” Gareth said, low and urgent.

Money sat out everywhere. On the desk. On the kitchen table. Sitting on the small marble countertop in the tiny kitchen. Even on the fireplace mantel.

Piles of bills.

Gold coins.

Thousands upon thousands of pounds.

“They were stealing from you,” Evaine gasped. “Look at all of this!”

“How long do you think this was going on?” Hazel asked.

“Years.” Gareth strode to a desk shoved into a corner—an antique, certainly worth some money—and did a cursory inspection of the contents. “Here is a bill of sale from last month for fine wine from France. I suppose that’s where most of my father’s collection went as well. They drank it.” He dropped the pile of receipts onto the desk with a slap. “They drank five thousand pounds worth of wine. Much of it was collectable. It was the first thing I thought of selling. I thought the servants might have helped themselves to it when they all ran off. I suppose I was half-right.”

“Where did they get all this money?” Evaine asked. She stacked a pile of gold coins and let them sit.

“I believe we are looking at the remnants of Marina’s inheritance. Plus, it looks like they sold some things from the house.” He scoffed. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. I trusted them.”

Evaine touched his back. “You did nothing wrong, Gareth. It hurts when people you trust betray you.”

“I feel so blind.”

“You believed what people told you after the accident. I can’t blame you for not wanting to return here in person for ten years. This place has many difficult memories for you.”

“Do we have to turn the money over to the authorities? Or do we bury them and take this with us?” Hazel said with hope shining in her eyes.

“Gran, we can’t take the money. It isn’t ours.” To Gareth, Evaine said questioningly, “Won’t there be questions if you start spending money all of a sudden?”

“Probably not. A duke’s finances aren’t subject to public scrutiny unless he really gets into debt. Apart from the unpaid tax liens, which are admittedly significant, I don’t have any other debts. People will assume I sold something off.” He shrugged. “It belongs to the estate. It’s mine to take.”

“Wouldn’t it belong to Marina’s family?” Evaine asked.

“She doesn’t have any living relatives. I’m sure they would have asked for an inquiry about what had happened to her inheritance, if there was anyone still around to ask about it. But I searched quite thoroughly after the fire and found no one. I thought they might want to bury their own.”

“Then, I suppose Wolfhaven has thwarted you quite thoroughly, Your Grace.”

“How so?”

“You came out here to destroy your legacy only to find enough money to rebuild it. If you so choose to do so.” She held his eye. Full of meaning. “You get to decide Wolfhaven’s fate now. What will you do with it? Let it die? Or make it stronger?”