Treasure of the Celtic Triangle Read Online Free PDF

tenants.”
    “Don’t forget, Mother,” said Florilyn, “by the time Courtenay accedes to the title, Percy and I will be married. If Courtenay is troublesome, you will come live with us.”
    Katherine smiled.
    “You would have me leave Westbrooke Manor, my dear?”
    “Rather than have Courtenay make your life miserable. You and Percy and I, and all the grandchildren we will give you … we will find a cottage in the hills, and we will raise horses and we will ride and all be happy together. Let Courtenay have his old title and this house. Don’t get me wrong, Mother—I love it here. I would bring Percy here to live if I could. But Courtenay
will
inherit. There is nothing we can do to change that. So we will make the best of it and all be happy somewhere else.”
    “And what will become of Adela and Steven? Perhaps we should not be too anxious to let their cottage to new tenants. They may need it again.”
    “We shall take
two
cottages in the hills,” said Florilyn gaily. “We shall build a second one to go with it. Steven shall continue as factor for our small little peasant community in the hills, with the dowager viscountess as our honored mistress.”
    Katherine laughed to hear her daughter talk so. She had a way of making the simplest things sound so wonderful.

S IX
    Discussions in London
    L ord Coloraine Litchfield rarely read obituaries in
The Times
. They were for the elderly, worried that they might find their
own
names among those who had departed the earth for better places. Death columns did not make up the regular reading program for mining magnates and captains of industry in the prime of their rush to expand their bank accounts and conquer the world for capitalism and commerce.
    He had stumbled on the small notice quite by accident in an announcement concerning a vacancy in the House of Lords owing to the death of Gwynedd viscount Lord Snowdon, whose seat in the Lords would not be filled for eighteen months. Litchfield’s eyes shot open.
    Moments later he was seated in consultation with his private secretary, Palmer Sutcliffe.
    “What we need to find out,” Litchfield said once Sutcliffe had perused the announcement, “is who is now in control of Snowdon’s affairs and his land.”
    “I assume, under the circumstances,” said Sutcliffe thoughtfully, “that there would be a trusteeship in effect. The thing’s probably in the hands of solicitors.”
    “But why this vacancy in the Lords? As I recall, the fellow had a son.”
    “Do you know when the peerage was created?” asked Sutcliffe.
    “No, nothing. It is of ancient date, I believe.”
    “The inheritance stipulations can be unbelievably complex in some instances. Though perhaps this is straightforward enough. It may be no more than a case of the son coming of age.”
    “Find out what you can. This may move our Wales project back to the top of the list.”
    “I will make inquiries immediately—discreetly of course.”
    “What about the old rascal who claimed to know the exact location—that thieving Cardi who said he possessed chunks he had taken out of the ground?”
    “What he showed me was real enough,” nodded Sutcliffe. “Of course he might have taken it from anywhere. The question will be whether he is even still alive and whether we can locate him again. It’s been, what … five years?”
    Litchfield nodded. “I had all but given up on the thing,” he said. “There was no way around Lord Snowdon’s intractability after he called our bluff. I must admit, I underestimated the fellow. He was sharper than I gave him credit for. He would have owned half interest in the project before agreeing to sell. That was more than I was prepared to give. I would far rather simply purchase the land outright. Then one hundred percent of the proceeds would be ours.”
    “What makes you think the son is not cut from the same cloth?” asked Sutcliffe.
    “I have no idea. Perhaps he is. But the thing is certainly worth exploring