Page 37 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

Kate’s eyes widened. She exchanged another look with Charles. She’d been right. The mysterious letter had been referencing a property.

Or so it appeared.

She opened her mouth to speak.

Charles gave her an infinitesimal shake of his head. The only way to find out anything was to let the man keep talking.

Blessedly, Kate understood him. She closed her mouth again without uttering a word.

“The current tenant has possession through April,” Mr. Arbogast went on. “Which gives us ample time to complete the repairs. Only small ones, mind, but—” He continued to shuffle through his papers with growing frustration. “My apologies. The documents only came into my possession a fortnight ago. I’ve not even finished the inventory of the estate.” He glanced up. “You wouldn’t care to come back—?”

“We’re anxious to settle on a place,” Charles said.

“And this property suits, does it?” Mr. Arbogast’s mouth curled in a satisfied smile. “I won’t argue with your assessment. It’s a pretty village, is Fox Cross, and Satterthwaite Court is but a—”

Charles gave the man an arrested look. “Did you say…Satterthwaite Court?”

Mr. Arbogast’s hands stilled on his paper. “That is the property you’re inquiring after? Oh dear. I’d assumed—”

“It is,” Charles replied sharply. Seeing Mr. Arbogast flinch, he moderated his tone. “Forgive me, but I understood it to be entailed?”

It was how his mother had lost it. On her grandfather’s death in the winter of 1813, the estate had gone to Edgar Townsend.

“It was indeed entailed.” Mr. Arbogast paged through one of the folders on his desk. His frown deepened. “I don’t have copies of the official documents in my possession, but according to my notes, a legal mechanism was employed to break the entail several years before it came into my client’s possession.”

“An entail can be broken?” Kate asked, astonished.

“In certain circumstances,” Mr. Arbogast said. “If the current owner of the estate and the next male heir both agree. The property then returns to freehold status and may be sold or left to whomever the owner chooses, as was the case here. My client came into legal possession of the estate in 1834. Title now resides with him, unencumbered.”

“Just who is your client?” Charles asked.

“I’m acting on behalf of Mr. Elias Catmull, lately of Russell Square, London.”

Kate’s lips parted in an expression of surprise. “Elias Catmull?”

The name meant nothing to Charles.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. Arbogast said. “He owns the property outright, though he’s never resided there. Satterthwaite Court has been tenanted since the death of the last Satterthwaite some three decades ago. But its maintenance hasn’t been neglected. If you mean to have the property, you can rest assured all will be in good order.”

“Oh, I mean to have it,” Charles said. “And no mistake.”

* * *

Kate discreetly studied Lieutenant Heywood’s face through her net riding veil. He’d been preoccupied when they’d entered the solicitor’s office, more attentive to her and to her taking the reins of their informal investigation than to the mystery itself.

But not anymore.

His expression had changed the instant Mr. Arbogast mentioned the name of the estate. No longer distracted, the lieutenant was unequivocally determined.

He must be acquainted with the place. Though he didn’t appear to know its owner. That much, at least, was unsurprising. Kate couldn’t imagine Charles Heywood and Elias Catmull as friends. She’d never met two gentlemen more dissimilar.

“I can’t recall, my love,” she said, making the most of her limited time as Mrs. Heywood. “Have you visited Satterthwaite Court before?”

Lieutenant Heywood’s gaze jerked to hers. His black brows notched in a repressive frown. “I have not.”

“It’s fortunate you should arrive today, then,” Mr. Arbogast said. “I have an appointment at the steward’s lodge in an hour to discuss the accounts. If you can spare the time to ride over, I’d be happy to show you the exterior of the house.” He glanced at Kate’s rumpled habit. “You might even have a canter over the grounds if you like. I’m sure the tenants would have no objection.”

“Thank you,” Kate replied. “We’d love to—”