The Rich Man's Bride. CATHERINE GEORGEЧитать онлайн книгу.
with reaction. She knew she ought to ring her father. But he was a long way away and well into evening surgery by now and Tom had even further to drive, even if he was available.
Nevertheless she was in urgent need of support from someone right now. In the end she searched for Ryder’s card, stared at it for a long moment, then shrugged and rang his number. Hot coals or not, this was an emergency.
‘Ryder, it’s Anna. I’m sorry to trouble you, but I didn’t know who else to ring. I’ve been burgled.’
‘Good God. Are you all right? Are you hurt?’ he demanded.
‘No. I was out. I’ve just got in. I’ve rung the police.’
‘Good. I’m on my way.’
Anna put her shopping away while she waited, but in shorter time than she’d have believed possible she heard a car speeding down the lane, footsteps racing up the path and hammering on the door.
‘Anna, let me in.’
She threw open the door and Ryder closed it behind him, his face stern.
‘Tell me what happened,’ he ordered.
‘I went out this afternoon,’ she said unsteadily. ‘When I came back I found the place in a mess and some things had been taken. My first thought was to ring Dad, but it would have taken him ages to get here and you did say to contact you if I needed anything.’
‘Of course. It was exactly the right thing to do,’ he said, eyeing her closely. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Anna? You’re as white as a sheet.’
‘Fright,’ she said tersely. ‘I’m fine otherwise.’
‘Good. Come and sit down and tell me what’s missing.’ His voice was so sympathetic Anna fought an urge to lay her head on his shoulder and cry her eyes out. ‘Hector’s obituary was in the local paper today,’ he said grimly. ‘Someone obviously read it and came to take a look.’
She stared at him, aghast. ‘You think it was as calculated as that?’
‘It’s pretty common practice. What was taken?’
Anna ticked off the list on her fingers as she told him. ‘Luckily Gramp gave me Grandma’s jewellery ages ago…’ She bit her lip.
‘What is it?’
‘I’ve just remembered. Gramp had a gold watch—a half hunter with a heavy gold chain and fob. I didn’t look, but they probably got away with that as well.’ She gave a shiver. ‘They ransacked the drawers and threw some of my things on the floor, but I didn’t actually go in the bedrooms. I left that for the police.’
‘Good thinking,’ approved Ryder. ‘You look shaken, Anna. I’ll make you some tea while we wait for them.’
‘You don’t have to wait.’
‘Don’t talk rot,’ he said brusquely.
Anna groaned in dismay. ‘You can’t make tea. They’ve taken the kettle.’
‘What a townie you are these days,’ he mocked. ‘A saucepan on the stove will do the job just as well—provided they left the tea.’
‘It should be in the caddy with the portrait of the Queen.’
‘I know. Hector often made tea for me in that big brown pot,’ said Ryder soberly. ‘I miss him too, Anna—’ He broke off as the bell rang and went to the door to let in the police.
The constables who came in answer to Anna’s call had known Hector Morton well. They offered condolences, made a thorough inspection and found the window broken in the spare bedroom. The burglar had climbed up the wisteria, smashed the glass next to the window latch and hopped over the window sill, splintering wood and tearing curtains down in the process as he rushed to let his partner in through the front door. Ryder assured the policemen that he’d block up the window until a glazier could be organised and, after providing the men with a list of everything she knew to be missing, Anna felt weary by the time they left.
‘I don’t care about the television and the electrical stuff they took,’ she told Ryder as he finally gave her the promised tea, ‘but the paintings and plates and the kitchen clock were Gramp’s wedding presents.’
‘It won’t be easy to track them down, Anna. There are so many cop shows on television every likely lad wears gloves to do his breaking and entering these days,’ he pointed out.
She nodded, depressed. ‘Dad’s coming to take me to lunch tomorrow. When I tell him about this he’ll insist on taking me home with him. In the meantime I’d better ring the Red Lion—’
‘Why?’
She pulled a face. ‘I don’t fancy sleeping here tonight with a broken window for company.’
‘You’re not going to. You’re coming home with me.’
Anna stared at him in surprise. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘Why not?’
She could think of a great many reasons, none of which she wanted to share with Ryder.
‘I’m not exactly short of bedrooms,’ he reminded her. ‘And Mrs Carter is still around. God knows what I’ll do when she retires. She’s been a godsend since I took over. I employ plenty of help from the village, but she’s getting on a bit and does so much I tend to worry about her.’
‘Is staff easy to find?’
‘The women who help in the house have been working there for years, so up to now the problem hasn’t arisen. The estate manager retired recently and I haven’t found anyone to take over his job yet so I’m doing that myself as a learning exercise. My father and Eddy died within months of each other, which meant double death duties, so there’s a lot to sort out.’
‘So Dominic told me.’
Ryder smiled sardonically. ‘Did he mention that my engagement ended about that time as well?’
‘No, he didn’t. Tom told me only recently. I’m sorry,’ she added awkwardly.
He shrugged. ‘Past history now. Right then, Anna, if you can supply me with a plastic bag I’ll raid Hector’s tool box for some masking tape and seal that window while you pack some things for the night.’
Not, thought Anna as she handed him a bin liner, that she was as sorry as she should be about the missing fiancée. Edwina French had been one of the unfriendly girls at the party all those years ago.
Ryder made short work of sealing the bedroom window, made a note of the splintered ledge and crumbling plaster the burglar had left in his wake, and went along the landing to Anna’s room. He frowned when he saw the tangle of underwear on her floor. ‘You can’t wear any of that!’
‘Absolutely not,’ she said, shuddering, and stepped over it to look in her wardrobe. ‘Nothing seems to be touched in here, thank goodness. My sweaters are still in their polythene bags. I’ll just throw the other things in the bath—’
‘Stuff them in a bag instead and take them with you. Mrs Carter will run them through the washing machine and have them ready by morning.’
‘The poor woman has enough to do without that. I’ll ask her to let me do it,’ said Anna firmly.
‘You can ask, but she’ll take one look at you and rush you off to bed.’
Ryder was right. He rang Mrs Carter to tell her he was bringing Anna to stay the night, and why, and by the time they arrived she had prepared a room and had the kitchen door open the moment Ryder drove into the back courtyard. Neat as always in a navy dress and flowered apron, every grey hair in place, she beamed in welcome as Ryder helped Anna down from the Land Rover.
Unlike the black and white half-timbered houses common to most local architecture, the Manor was a classic Georgian cube with a pillared portico