Page 60 of The Sisters of Sea View
“Perhaps the attic?” Sarah suggested. “That is certainly the highest place in the house.”
“I don’t think she ever ventured up there either. I did only to store our valises in the storage room and later to retrieve them.”
“Do you think it’s worth a look?”
“I suppose we might as well. Perhaps then I will be able to put the nagging thought from my mind. Accept the jewelry is gone forever.”
“Very well. Let’s go up.”
The narrow attic stairs were on the west side of the house, in a passage between the linen cupboard and her father’s old bedchamber, presently unoccupied.
Sarah led the way, explaining, “If you remember, there are several servants’ cubicles up here and a sitting room. But these days only one maid, Jessie, sleeps up here, and Georgie has moved up here too.”
“Yes, Effie mentioned your sister sleeps in a humble garret like a Gothic heroine.”
Sarah chuckled. “Next you will think we banished her up here, but I promise it was her choice. She was willing to do almost anything to have her own room.”
Reaching the attic, they walked along the narrow passage, peeking into small servants’ rooms, either empty or with a single bedframe and washstand remaining. They saw few places to hide anything, let alone something valuable. They opened the closed door of the storage room where the Summerses had also stored their traveling trunks and valises. Behind these sat an ancient sea chest, a broken coat tree leaning haphazardly against the wall, a three-legged chair, and a wardrobe with a broken mirror. They looked in the mouldering old chest and dusty wardrobe but found nothing of interest.
They knocked next on Georgiana’s door and peeked in. The bedclothes were in disarray and stockings lay discarded over the back of a chair. Sarah would have to talk with her about her housekeeping skills. Again, however, they saw few places to hide something and no high cupboards to search. Then they knockedon Jessie’s door and gave a cursory glance around, just to make sure there was no obvious hiding place, but Sarah was not keen to poke into the maid’s personal belongings.
They stepped into the former servants’ sitting room, which held little besides a scarred oak table, a few chairs, and a cabinet filled with old sewing notions and mouse droppings.
“Nothing up here seems promising, I am afraid.”
He followed her gaze. “I agree.”
They reached the last door and opened it. A discarded cradle, rickety hobbyhorse, and child-sized table and chairs identified it as the former nursery. The cracked and dirty windowpanes overlooked the lawn far below, and beneath them was a long window seat. Sarah raised the hinged top, which revealed a toy box containing a jumble of long-abandoned playthings: a few tin soldiers, a broken draughts board, battledore racquets missing strings, a shuttlecock with one frayed feather, a costume crown and scepter, and a musty purple cape.
Sarah stirred through the remnants like a hungry man searching broth for a morsel of meat. She moved aside the draughts board and stilled.
What was that? Embossed leather and a flash of gilt caught her eye. Had some naughty child tossed a leather-bound book into the toy box? She lifted it out, and her breath hitched. Not a book.
A jewelry case with gilt hinges and clasp.
She turned to Mr. Henshall, mouth agape, and slowly lifted the object toward him.
He stared at it, eyebrows drawn low, then murmured in disbelief, “That’s it.”
He gingerly took it from her as though it were a wild bird that would fly away if he moved too quickly. He unfastened the clasp and slowly lifted the lid.
Empty.
Sarah sighed. “What a disappointment.”
“Aye.”
“Why is the case here? Do you think someone found the sapphires while the house was vacant and took them, discarding the case?”
“Probably. Or Katrin might have, who knows, taken them out of the case and tossed them over the cliff. I doubt we shall ever know.”
“It is interesting that we’d find the case up here though, is it not? Somewhere high up from which the jewelry would have to be brought down?”
He nodded. “At all events, the empty case tells me our search is at an end. At least finding this proves I was not making up the whole thing as an excuse to sneak around your house.”
Sarah looked at him, dismayed for his sake. “I am sorry.”
“Why areyousorry? I am the one who led ye on this wild-goose chase. You’re a busy woman with no doubt far more important things to do.”
