65 A Heart Is Stolen Read Online Free PDF Page B

effort to think back.
    Surely he was not mistaken in thinking that his father’s collection was very much larger?
    Perhaps some of them had been moved to another room, the drawing room, for instance?’
    He looked down at what were already there and saw that most of them were distinctive and, he told himself, as far as he was concerned, unforgettable.
    A number were ornamented with precious stones, but there was certainly not the ship in full sail on an emerald sea that he had recently been shown by Peregrine Percival.
    Then it struck him that, of course, Mr. Markham, being extremely zealous in his care of Heathcliffe, would have put away the most valuable snuffboxes in the huge safe, which he remembered stood in the butler’s pantry.
    That was where they would be and the Marquis heaved a sigh of relief because for a moment he had been afraid that he had lost something that mattered to him because they had meant so much to his father.
    ‘I must talk to Markham about it tomorrow,’ he told himself.
    He knew there were a great number of items to discuss with his agent, not only those that concerned the house, but also the estate.
    He went from the library back into the drawing room to wait for Anthony.
    As it was such a hot night, the long French windows were open onto the terrace and he walked out to look down into the rose garden and think how beautiful it was with the late roses still in bloom around an ancient sundial.
    He could feel the faint breeze blowing in from the sea and he told himself that he had been away from Heathcliffe far too long and another year he would definitely spend several weeks here.
    Anthony came to join him.
    “I cannot think why you have neglected this place, Justin,” he began.
    “It is what I was thinking myself,” the Marquis replied, “and we will definitely come here next year instead of prancing up and down the Steine at Brighton talking to all those bores who have not an ounce of intelligence in their heads.”
    “Perhaps next year you will not invite me.”
    The Marquis looked at him in surprise and Anthony went on with a smile,
    “I was thinking as I was dressing that this is the perfect place for a honeymoon.”
    “If you start talking about marriage all over again, I shall hit you,” the Marquis growled. “We are here to preserve our bachelorhood, so let’s drink on it.”
    He walked back into the drawing room just as the footman came in carrying a tray on which there were two crystal glasses, accompanied by a butler carrying a bottle of champagne wrapped in a napkin.
    The Marquis looked at him and asked,
    “You are not Bateman!”
    “No, my Lord. My name’s Travers.”
    “What has happened to Bateman?”
    “He’s retired, my Lord. I believe he has a cottage in the village.”
    “I did not realise that he was so old,” the Marquis remarked. “I hope you will manage in his place and enjoy your duties at Heathcliffe.”
    “Thank you, my Lord. I will endeavour to perform them to your Lordship’s satisfaction.”
    The Marquis liked the way the man spoke and it struck him that he had a military bearing.
    Then an idea came to him and he enquired,
    “Who were you with before Mr. Markham engaged you?”
    “I was at sea, my Lord.”
    The Marquis made no comment, but he looked at the man speculatively and decided that Markham had made a good choice.
    It vaguely struck him that now there was peace, there might be quite a number of Naval personnel looking for jobs.
    He had however, always made it a rule on his estates that servants if possible should come from the families who had served him, his father before him and often his grandfather as well.
    At Veryan there were pantry boys who represented the fifth generation and girls who considered it almost their right as soon as they were old enough to be taken on at the ‘big house’.
    He had always imagined the same principle held good at Heathcliffe.
    Then he tried to remember the size of the village, which was situated