65 A Heart Is Stolen Read Online Free PDF

staircase, he noticed that the house smelt of beeswax and lavender and thought it was a vast improvement on the exotic perfumes that his women guests had used the night before.
    He was in a mood when he was prepared to appreciate Heathcliffe and everything about it.
    He was just going into the drawing room when he thought that he would first visit the library, which had been his father’s special sanctum and where he had kept a great number of the treasures that had given him great pleasure because he had collected them personally.
    The magnificent pictures at Veryan and at the family house in London had been inherited from the Marquis’s grandfather who had a keen appreciation of art and had spent a great deal of time and money in assembling a collection which was spoken of as one of the best in the whole country.
    He also had a good eye for furniture and had added to the superb pieces of red lacquer for which a Veryan in the reign of Queen Anne was responsible.
    It had been difficult therefore for the late Marquis to improve on what he already possessed, but because he had excellent taste and a fortune that enabled him to indulge it, he had concentrated while he was at Heathcliffe in buying antiques that had some connection with the sea.
    The Marquis knew that there were first editions of books on the shelves of the library that any connoisseur and certainly any maritime museum would love to possess.
    All over the house were ship pictures by famous artists that had made one of his father’s cronies declare that it was easier to feel seasick in Heathcliffe than in any ship he had ever boarded!
    There was also his father’s special collection of snuffboxes.
    These were each connected in some manner with the sea and the Marquis remembered now that he wanted to look for the one that resembled the box belonging to Peregrine Percival, which he had inspected last night.
    He thought it rather strange that there should be two boxes exactly the same, knowing most of the craftsmen of the period preferred to make something unique for their patrons.
    At the same time he was aware that while one treasure, such as a Grecian vase, would be extremely valuable, if there was a pair they became not only worth four or five times as much, but in their own way, unique.
    He opened the library door and was aware that as in the drawing room flowers had been arranged to herald his arrival.
    He thought however, besides the fragrance of them, there was a slight smell of dust and ancient leather and he walked across the room to open a window.
    As he did so, he noted that everything on his father’s writing table were arranged just as he remembered them – the blotter with its gold corners, embellished with the Veryan coat of arms, the large gold inkstand, which had been made in the reign of Charles II by one of the greatest goldsmiths of his time, and all the other small objects in which his father had delighted.
    There was a letter-opener set with precious gems, a magnifying glass, a pen holder, a seal and a dozen other items that had thrilled the Marquis as a small boy.
    He smiled as he looked at them. Then instinctively his eyes went to where on the other side of the room was the large inlaid French cabinet with a glass top where his father had kept his precious snuffboxes.
    ‘Now I will see,’ he mused to himself, ‘if Peregrine Percival’s box is any different from the one we possess.’
    He walked to the cabinet to stare into it with surprise, because there were far fewer snuffboxes there than he had expected.
    Had his memory been at fault? he asked.
    He was sure in the past that there had been so many that there was hardly room for more. Now, lying on the dark blue velvet with which the cabinet was lined, there were a dozen boxes.
    But they were arranged with gaps between them in a manner that might seem artistic, but made the Marquis feel that in some way, they were filling up space where there should have been others.
    He made an