Chapter 4 - The Missing Heir
News of Eleanor's return traveled through Blackthorne Hall before breakfast.
Mrs. Potter, the head housekeeper, hugged her so fiercely Eleanor nearly laughed.
“We missed you every day,” the older woman said.
“I missed you too.”
The halls felt different now.
Less romantic.
More dangerous.
Adrian arranged a private meeting in the old dining room.
Present were Eleanor, Victoria, Mrs. Potter, and an attorney named Samuel Hart.
Samuel had been Adrian's father's junior solicitor.
He had stayed silent for twenty years.
Now he seemed determined to speak.
“You need to understand,” Samuel said, “that the Blackthorne fortune was never as secure as the public believed.”
He produced a map.
Almost a third of the estate was tied to disputed ownership claims.
“Marcus Vale created companies to buy the land.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew your grandfather planned to divide the estate among local tenants.”
Eleanor frowned.
“He wanted control.”
“Exactly.”
The Blackthorne title was worth prestige.
The land was worth hundreds of millions.
Marcus saw an opportunity.
Henry discovered him.
Adrian inherited after his father's death.
Marcus adapted.
Then Samuel revealed the most disturbing fact.
“Your father did not die naturally.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“What?”
“His official death was cardiac failure.”
“But?”
“There were traces of a rare toxin.”
Adrian went pale.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Malcolm threatened my family.”
The room fell silent.
“Malcolm?”
Samuel nodded.
“He wasn't working alone.”
He placed another file on the table.
Inside were photographs of Marcus.
Marcus meeting Malcolm.
Marcus meeting corrupt officials.
Marcus meeting Henry.
Then came a picture of Rose.
The little girl from the photograph.
Eleanor touched the edge.
“Where is she?”
Samuel looked at Adrian.
Adrian answered.
“We don't know.”
A knock sounded.
Everyone turned.
A young woman entered.
She was perhaps twenty-three.
Dark hair.
Pale eyes.
A small scar on her chin.
She looked directly at Eleanor.
“You don't recognize me.”
Eleanor's heart stopped.
The young woman looked at Adrian.
“Neither does he.”
Adrian stood slowly.
“Who are you?”
“Rose.”
The room went silent.
Eleanor could not breathe.
Rose stepped forward.
“My father was Henry Blackthorne.”
Adrian stared at her.
“Where have you been?”
“Living under another name.”
“Who raised you?”
“A woman named Margaret Cole.”
Victoria covered her mouth.
“That name…”
Rose nodded.
“She worked for your father.”
Eleanor looked between them.
“Why are you here?”
Rose's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I was told my family abandoned me.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“We never knew where you were.”
“I know.”
She pulled a letter from her coat.
“Henry wrote this before he disappeared.”
Adrian opened it.
His cousin's handwriting filled the page.
If Rose ever finds you, trust her.
The people who took me will try to make her look like a traitor.
She is not.
She is the key to the ledger.
Eleanor looked at Rose.
“What ledger?”
Rose reached into her bag.
She removed a tiny brass cylinder.
Adrian recognized it immediately.
It had belonged to his grandfather.
“The original ledger isn't a book,” Rose said.
“Then what is it?”
“The book contains half the information.”
She opened the cylinder.
Inside was a strip of parchment with coordinates.
Victoria leaned closer.
“Where is that?”
Rose looked toward Eleanor.
“Boston.”
Eleanor's face went blank.
“Boston?”
“Your father's old warehouse.”
Adrian understood.
“The warehouse was sold.”
“Not completely,” Rose said.
“Someone kept ownership hidden.”
Samuel looked at the map.
“Marcus.”
The lights flickered.
Then the entire house went dark.
A scream came from the corridor.
Mrs. Potter.
Adrian grabbed Eleanor's hand.
“Stay with me.”
They rushed outside the room.
The corridor was chaos.
Servants shouted.
Doors slammed.
Then came a gunshot from the west wing.
Adrian froze.
Victoria whispered, “They found us.”
He pushed Eleanor behind him.
A second shot rang out.
Glass shattered.
Security guards ran toward the sound.
Eleanor looked at Rose.
Rose was gone.
“Where is she?”
They searched the house.
Nothing.
No Rose.
No sign.
Only her coat remained near the stairwell.
Inside the pocket was a note.
Eleanor unfolded it.
Do not trust the man who says he is trying to save you.
He is already inside the house.
Eleanor looked at Adrian.
For one horrible moment, she wondered whether the note referred to him.
Then Adrian whispered, “Malcolm.”
Behind them, the grandfather clock stopped.
Its hands pointed to 2:17.
The same time Eleanor's father had died.
And inside the clock, hidden behind the pendulum, was a photograph.
Eleanor pulled it free.
Her father stood beside Henry.
Between them was a child.
Rose.
The photograph had been taken one year before Henry disappeared.
On its back was one sentence.
We hid the girl because Marcus needed to believe she was dead.
Eleanor's hands shook.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
“You should have stayed away.”
Marcus Vale stood there.
Older.
Gray-haired.
Smiling.
Adrian moved in front of Eleanor.
Marcus laughed.
“Always the hero.”
Eleanor stepped beside her husband.
“This ends tonight.”
Marcus smiled at her.
“No, Eleanor.”
May you like
He looked directly into her eyes.
“This began the night your father asked my brother for mercy.”
