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Historical,
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series,
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romantic suspense,
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than he had expected. Not least because for once, in a very long time, Jeb was able to truly relax.
He studied the worry on his father’s face and realised just how much his father had aged while he had been away. Guilt weighed heavily on him at the realisation that his absence had been more than a little bit selfish. His father wouldn’t be around forever. What would happen then, because Briggleberry would need someone to run it, and Jeb didn’t even know where to start?
So much of the Star Elite’s investigations had taken up his time, energy, and emotions that everything else had faded into insignificance. It had taken something as startling as his father’s warning of the thefts to break that almost complete immersion in work, and force Jeb to think about something else for a change. But now that he had started to take a look at what was going on at home, he realised just how much he had missed it, and his father. That made him start to wonder if he was letting life pass him by and, at some point, it was all going to blow up on him.
“I just don’t know what to do about it. Matters cannot carry on as they are. Someone is going to get hurt. I hate the thought of having to entertain someone who is duplicitous enough to steal from me, but I am going to offend a lot of good people if I stop socialising with them because of the thefts. It is tantamount to accusing them of being guilty, and that will make me enemies in a village like Framley Meadow that will make life difficult,” Algernon explained morosely.
Determined to do whatever he could to help ease his father’s worry, Jeb turned his attention to what he did best; investigating.
Algernon sighed. “The social scene in the country is the be all and end all of everything. The only other activities people take part in are the autumn fayre, or drinking ale down at the tavern. Individual members of the, well, let’s say the more affluent of the village, have taken to gathering together practically weekly to host dinners, balls, teas, or music recitals. Each week one person hosts and invites the others. I can’t remember who started it. I just think that once the group were invited somewhere they felt obliged to return an invitation. It has continued ever since. Balls only usually happen here, or at the Squire’s house, because the other’s houses aren’t really big enough and don’t have ballrooms. Otherwise, everyone takes their turn.”
“So, rather than accept that it might be best to put a temporary halt on proceedings, you have all decided to carry on. But you practically empty your house of anything of worth and hide it all away, only to be brought out again once everyone has gone home. Good Lord, how ridiculous.” Jeb shook his head in disbelief.
“It seemed the safest way to secure the family heirlooms. There really is nothing else we can do. However, I have just about had enough of squirrelling everything away. I shouldn’t have to, blast it. This is my house! To make it worse, I am doing it to appease people I don’t really like very much.”
Algernon stood up and began to pace up and down in front of the fire in agitated frustration.
Jeb sighed and leaned back in his chair, certain his father would burst if he didn’t get rid of some of his anger. The only time he had ever seen Algernon this annoyed about anything had been the time when Jeb had announced he was leaving to join the army.
“Tell me about the guests coming tonight. Who are they?”
Algernon looked at him. “Well, there is you and me, of course. Then I have invited Philip. There is -” He paused when Jeb lifted his hand to stop him.
“Philip?”
“Philip Everson, my man of business. He helps run the estate. Now he is someone I do get on with. He can be trusted implicitly.”
“Tell me about him,” Jeb demanded. “What is he like as a person?”
“Well, he is rather shy and bookish but knows what he is doing. He is the third son of a viscount something or