Free The Heiress of Linn Hagh by Karen Charlton Page A

income.’
    ‘She doesn’t come into her inheritance until her twenty-first birthday at the beginning of January,’ Armstrong added. ‘Until then, she is still financially dependent on her half-brother, George Carnaby.’
    Lavender had the curious impression that these answers had been rehearsed—or at least discussed beforehand. The Armstrongs delivered those lines with the wooden amateurism of the set of actors he had recently had the misfortune to watch at Vauxhall Gardens. Betsy Woods had dragged both him and Ned along to the play. Woods had nodded off in his seat and started to snore loudly. Lavender’s hand moved instinctively to rub the spot on his own arm where Betsy had battered her husband’s arm with her fan.
    Lavender noted this slight change in the demeanour and tone of the Armstrongs, but he didn’t comment. His face remained inscrutable, his voice neutral.
    ‘Exactly how much is Helen Carnaby due to inherit in January?’
    ‘My brother’s fortune is invested for her. It amounts to around ten thousand pounds.’
    An involuntary whistle escaped from Constable Woods’ lips.

Chapter Seven
    W hat’s that?’ Woods asked in surprise. ‘A castle?’
    They had rounded a bend on the lonely road from Bellingham and caught their first glimpse of Linn Hagh. Woods reined in his horse and paused to admire the towering, cresselated stone rectangle that reached up into the brooding sky.
    ‘It’s a pele tower,’ Lavender said, drawing up beside him. ‘An ancient family home, common in these border regions. It’s fortified, of course.’
    ‘How’s that work, then?’
    ‘The walls will be three feet thick, and the roof is made of stone. In those days, the building was impregnable, even to fire. You see the bigger windows on the first and second floors? That’s where the family lived. Animals would have been stored in the building on the ground floor, and there would have been no staircase back then—just a wooden ladder up to a trapdoor in the floor above, which would have been hastily pulled up if they were under attack.’
    ‘Seems like a lot of trouble to go to.’
    ‘It was necessary. This area was completely lawless until the union of the nation under James the First. Before that, roving bands of reivers—from both sides of the border—pillaged and stole at will. Even royalty was nervous about travelling around here.’
    ‘Aye,’ their escort, Constable Beddows, agreed. ‘Rough lot around these here parts.’
    Lavender and Woods didn’t reply. Their relationship with Constable Beddows had not got off to a good start when he had turned up at Mr Armstrong’s house with horses for the London officers.
    ‘That’s a right pair of queer prancers you expect us to ride!’ Woods had exclaimed in disgust as he ran his hand down the quivering, bony flank of the smaller nag.
    ‘Constable Woods is the finest horseman in the Bow Street Horse Patrol,’ Lavender told Beddows. He had trouble hiding his smile.
    ‘Is he now?’ Beddows shuffled uncomfortably, and his eyes would not meet Lavender’s. ‘I see our northern horses are not good enough fer you southerners.’
    ‘I’ve seen northern horses,’ snapped Woods. ‘On our last case up here, we ran into the Duke of Northumberland himself—and he had a right set of gallopers on his carriage. Don’t tell me you can’t get decent horse flesh in this part of Britain.’
    Beddows’ thin mouth had gaped open at the mention of the Duke of Northumberland. Then it slammed shut.
    They conducted most of their slow journey to Linn Hagh in silence. Both constables were sulking: Beddows was smarting from the criticism he had received from Woods, and Woods was fuming from the perceived insult of being given a couple of inferior horses.
    However, the sight of Linn Hagh seemed to have roused Beddows back to his purpose.
    ‘It was snowing on the night of her disappearance,’ he announced. ‘All footprints were completely covered.’
    ‘What efforts did