Quantock Hall, early December 1848
“Good morning, Mr. Smythe.” Kate swept happily into the warm library, sunlight pouring in the windows. She smiled at the elderly butler and stepped towards a bookshelf. “How are you?”
“Troubled, my lady.” Smythe stood by Earl Beaufort’s desk, hands clasped and trembling. “There should be a purse here, lest funds be needed whilst Lord Beaufort is away. It’s missing. Have you seen it?”
“Oh! No! I…” Kate froze in her tracks, guts plummeting, mind whirling. Sasha stole it?! This is my fault. I’ll have to–
“My lady?”