Winnifred knew she would never end up as a maid, but she was headed toward the shelf, that was certain. Unless she set her cap on someone with conviction in the next year or so, she’d be an ape-leader herself.
The thought scared her. To be old and childless, entirely dependent upon the charity of her brother… She gasped. These past two weeks, her thoughts were occupied with finding her brother, not what his absence meant to their future. Now the idea was in her mind, and she could not shake it.
“Mary, if we do not find Leo, I do not know what will become of Victoria and I.”
“Surely, your uncle would assume control of the estate. Would he not?”
Winnifred cringed at this, for Mary was right.
“Indeed. As Leo does not yet have children, the title and the estate which are in entailment will go to my father’s nearest relative, my uncle Ezekiel.” She shook her head. “Why did my father not break the entailment? I do not understand. He would never have wanted us to rely on his brother. He does not care for him. Did not, I meant to say.” Even after all of these years, sometimes she spoke of her parents as still living.
“It is well known,” Mary said carefully. Winnifred knew the servants talked; there was not much that could be kept secret in a small household such as theirs. Not that she would have told Mary such private details if they weren’t such close friends. Sometimes she wished Mary was not a maid at all so that they might be friends. Genuine friends who attended the opera or the theater.
“Would he have been able to break the entailment, your father? I didn’t know that was possible.”
“It is possible. One must consult with a barrister, and they will take it to the Court of Common Pleas. I suppose the person next in line for the entailment would have to be consulted and agree, but of course, that person was my brother, and he would gladly have agreed. The title would have gone to him anyhow, entailment or no entailment.”
Winnifred narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. In a quieter tone, she added, “Leo planned to do this, break the entailment. He didn’t have a chance to do so yet, but it was his intention.”
“Do you suppose it has something to do with his disappearance?” Mary asked. She, too, spoke in a low tone. They both knew nobody could be trusted at this time, not until they solved Leo’s disappearance. “Who would benefit from such a maneuver?”
Winnie shrugged. “Only myself, Victoria, and my uncle. My uncle would still inherit the title if Leo were gone, and Leo would have generously compensated my uncle for agreeing to it. Although I must say, Uncle Ezekiel never did seem keen on being Baron himself. He is forever teasing Leo about producing an heir. He thinks holding the peerage is more trouble than it is worth.”
Mary chuckled. “Your uncle was always known as a bit of a dandy in his younger days. At least that is what’son-dit.”
“And he still is now. I do not think managing an estate is something he desires, nor would he succeed at it. He and my aunt are always in need of funds, and thus breaking the entailment would have greatly benefited them. It would benefit Victoria and me as we would be able to inherit lands in our own right. So, to answer your question, we all would have benefitted, thus I do not know why Leo did not yet set it in motion.”
“But now that Lord Drayton is missing, what will happen to the estate if….”
Mary swallowed as her eyes grew wider. Winnifred’s blood ran cold the moment she realized what Mary’s next question was going to be.
“What if he is not found?” The maid’s eyes were full of compassion, and her countenance marked by worry for Winnie.
“I do not know. If he remains missing then I suppose we will have to find a barrister to manage things? We do not have a steward since the retirement of Mr. Henson, as you know. If Leo were to… if he were …. If he were the be declared deceased, then my uncle would inherit, and who knows what would become of us. But as it stands, the entire family will be in limbo for a very long time. The courts move ever so slow, I hear, and everything is tangled up with the business and such.” She cleared her throat. “Let us not speak of such unimaginable events. Come, I wish to search his chamber again and more thoroughly this time.”
Mary grimaced but followed Winnifred down the hall. They turned sharply right at the end of the hall, past the library and the upstairs sitting room, and then she pushed open the double doors that lead into her brother’s chamber.
The chamber always felt cold to her. There was a draft coming through the windows, she knew this, but there was something else about the chamber that gave her chills every time she ventured there.
This space used to belong to her parents. After their death, it remained empty for years. None of the Keatings ever ventured there unless it was by design—to retrieve an item or for some other reason. They never went here without purpose as they might wander into the library or drawing room.
It wasn’t used again until her brother claimed it—as he ought to, given he was the new Baron—four years ago. When Leo decided to merge their father’s spice and tea company with the Duke of Cambarton’s sugar venture, he required a larger study. Soon after claiming their father’s study, he’d moved his belongings into their parents’ chambers. In the process, much of their belongings were given away to charity. He’d also re-opened several of the windows their father had bricked up to avoid the dreaded window tax, resulting in a draft throughout the chamber.
To this day, Winnie never came here unless specifically requested by her brother. He knew better than to ask Victoria to call on him in his chamber, for she outright refused.
“It does not look anything like when my parents occupied these rooms,” she said as she ran one hand along the windowsill. “I used to sit here with my mother every night at sunset. We climbed up on the windowsill, and she would read to me. I remember watching the sunset in the distance over the park, the orange glow. My mother always said that when the sun set, it spread slumber over the earth and the moon would rise to keep us safe.”
“She was a lovely creature, your mother. So beloved. As was your father.”
Winnifred nodded. It was true. Both of her parents were greatly adored, not just by the servants but by society in general. Her father was an exceedingly generous man who gave freely to many good causes. The Foundlings Hospital was one of his most cherished charities, and he was one of the governors of the institution. Meanwhile, her mother acted as a benefactor for The Asylum for Orphaned Girls. Leo continued to donate to both generously in their name, to this very day.
A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed hard to push it down. Whenever she thought of her parents, sadness overwhelmed her. She hoped one day to think of them without the desire to cry, but that day seemed impossibly far away. Most days, it was easier not to think of them at all.
Such as today. She had no time to waste on nostalgia or grief. Leo had been gone for two weeks already; every moment counted. She spun on her heels.
“Mary, look on his desk. I already searched it, but I did not look inside his books. Look through them while I search his bed chamber. I know he keeps a notebook, I just have not found it yet.”
“But Miss Keating, what am I looking for?”
