Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [21]
In other words, this solicitor had interfered with last Tuesday’s decision, whether it would have been good or bad for her. “How wise of you, sir.”
He bowed his head. “I like to think that I serve my patrons well and give good counsel.”
“Stop flattering yourself, Goodale,” Castleford said. “It is already wearying. You are only here for one reason, so get on with it.”
“Certainly. Of course.” Mr. Goodale positioned himself in her clear view for his performance. He unrolled the paper he carried. He held it up so his nose, eyes, and balding pate rose above the top edge and his paunch became a prop for the bottom.
It was a map.
“I had this made just for our conversation, Mrs. Joyes,” he explained, his voice muffled by the paper. “You can see that everything is enlarged and much more easily viewed than on normal-size maps.”
He glanced to the duke, looking for praise. When none came, Daphne did her best to fill in. “How clever of you, sir. I confess that most maps are so small as to be illegible to me.”
“Me too! Hence my inspiration to make this easier for us both. I drew it myself, and believe even the scale is approximately correct. I am particularly proud of how I—”
“Move on, Mr. Goodale.”
“Of course, Your Grace. Now, look here, Mrs. Joyes. This is Cumberworth.” He pointed to a collection of squares and rectangles on the map’s lower right. “Here is your home.” He pointed to the lane, house, and gardens of The Rarest Blooms to the town’s northwest. “And, as I anticipated, there is indeed an unexpected element. Right—here.” He pointed to a large plot of land north of the copse of trees that bordered her property.
“That is fallow ground, unworked by its owner. That holding has been uninhabited for years. It has some trees and brush. Nothing more,” she said.
“You misunderstand, dear lady. This is not a separate holding north of you. It is part of the property on which you now live. The whole acreage came to Lord Becksbridge through his mother. Hence his freedom to dispose of it in his testament.”
“It is all of a piece?” She held out her hands for the map. Mr. Goodale brought it over and draped it on her lap. She bent over the lines and markings, very surprised.
Becksbridge had not given her a map. He had only provided directions to the house where she now lived. The land in front and behind obviously belonged to it. That to the north, past the trees along the lane, seemed obviously not to.
“If there is some concern with this other section, and it being attached to my tenancy, let me say that I have no need of it. It can be leased to another.”
“That is not the only concern,” Castleford said. “Show Mrs. Joyes the rest, and be quick about it. You are taking up more of this afternoon than can be afforded you.”
Mr. Goodale bent over her and pointed again. This time to an area some distance from her house but less so from that other section. “Mrs. Joyes, do you see these markings up here? They represent notations from surveyors.”
“Regarding what?”
“Minerals. Underground and untouched still, for the most part, but very recently a small mine has begun to be dug . . . here.”
She noted the spot under his fingertip, a few miles from Cumberworth.
Mr. Goodale sat himself in a chair to her left. He eyed the cakes but thought better of it. “Mrs. Joyes, while you have lived in that house, has the property ever, to your knowledge, been examined? Have there ever been men about with maps and such? Tools and apparatus that might be used for digging and boring?”
“Never.”
Mr. Goodale’s lips folded in on themselves. He pondered that.
“You may go now, Goodale. That will be all,” Castleford said.
Mr. Goodale jumped to his feet as if a puppeteer had jerked his strings. A bow to her, then a deeper one to the duke, and he was gone.
Leaving her alone with Castleford.
Chapter Five
Daphne and the duke sat facing each other for a good while. He appeared to be thinking about