Chapter Twenty Eight

A frantic knock echoed through the study, shattering the tense silence that had settled after Suzy's departure. Ryan, still fuming over their argument, looked up with a scowl.

"Enter!" he barked, his voice laced with irritation.

The door creaked open, revealing Davis, his face etched with urgency. "Your Grace," he announced, his voice breathless, "a letter from Throne just arrived."

Ryan's scowl deepened. Throne's name was the last thing he wanted to hear at that moment. "What does it say?" he demanded, his tone clipped.

Davis approached the desk and extended a sealed envelope towards his master. "He requests your immediate presence at Lord Collin's Manor," he explained, his brow furrowed in concern. "Apparently, it's urgent."

Ryan snatched the letter from Davis's grasp and ripped it open, his movements betraying his growing frustration. He scanned the contents quickly, his jaw clenching as he absorbed the information.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, crumpling the letter in his hand. "This can't wait?"

Davis shook his head. "From the urgency in Throne's tone, I'd say not, Your Grace."

Ryan rose from his chair, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the room. He paced back and forth for a moment, a tempest of emotions swirling within him.

"Prepare the carriage," he instructed, his voice firm. "We leave for Lord Collin's Manor immediately."

"Yes, Your Grace," Davis acknowledged, his voice laced with a hint of worry.

Moments later, a flurry of activity filled the castle as Ryan and Davis prepared for their unexpected journey. Suzy, oblivious to the commotion, was ensconced in her room, diligently making her way through the first of the ten books on the Carleton Ball.

The carriage ride was shrouded in an uncomfortable silence. Ryan, preoccupied with Throne's message, remained lost in thought. Davis, sensing his master's mood, wisely kept quiet, stealing worried glances at Ryan's stoic expression.

As they approached Lord Collin's Manor, the once-grand estate now bore an air of neglect. The gates hung crookedly on their hinges, and weeds choked the overgrown gardens. A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the creaking of the carriage wheels.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by Throne and a group of scouts, their faces grim. The sight of the abandoned manor and the somber expressions on their faces did little to ease Ryan's apprehension.

"Throne," Ryan acknowledged curtly, stepping down from the carriage. "What's going on?"

Throne's face was etched with worry. "There's been a development, Your Grace," he began, his voice low. "One that concerns Lord Collin's estate… and his family."

Ryan's gaze swept over the manor house, a foreboding feeling settling in his gut. "What happened to his family?" he asked, a flicker of concern in his eyes.

Throne's expression hardened. "Evacuated," he replied. "Viscount Conrad has taken possession of the property as Lord Collin put up the property as collateral for his debt."

The air hung heavy with unspoken worry as Ryan and Throne finished their conversation. Just as they were about to turn and head towards the waiting carriage, Ryan's sharp eyes caught a faint glint on the door frame of the manor.

He stopped abruptly, his brow furrowing in concentration. Bending closer, he brushed his fingers across the surface, a smear of something dark staining his glove. His eyes narrowed as he straightened up, holding his hand out towards Throne.

"Throne," he said, his voice low and urgent, "take a look at this."

Throne, ever vigilant, hurried over and examined the smear on Ryan's glove. His face paled as recognition dawned on him.

"Blood," he whispered, his voice laced with apprehension as he looked closely toward the door frame. "A faint handprint, almost invisible in the fading light."

Ryan nodded grimly. "Exactly. And this," he continued, gesturing towards the door frame, "doesn't seem consistent with someone taking their own life."

Throne's explanation days ago, Lord Collin hanging himself, now seemed riddled with inconsistencies. The bloodstain, faint as it was, pointed towards a more sinister story.

"Are you suggesting…" Throne began hesitantly, his voice trailing off as he met Ryan's steely gaze.

"That Lord Collin was murdered," Ryan finished for him, his voice firm with conviction. "And then staged to look like a suicide."

Throne's face hardened. "But… your report … it said his wife found him hanging."

Ryan shook his head. "Perhaps. But perhaps she was coerced, or simply didn't see the bigger picture. This bloodstain tells a different story, Throne. A story of struggle, of a fight for life."

Throne pondered Ryan's words, a grim realization settling upon him. "Then the cause of death you mentioned earlier…"

"Unnatural," Ryan interjected, completing Throne's thought. "Lord Collin was killed, and then someone tried to make it look like a suicide. The question is, who, and why?"

A heavy silence descended upon them, broken only by the mournful creaking of the old manor house. The weight of the situation pressed down on them, the truth about Lord Collin's death shrouded in a veil of darkness.

"We need to investigate further," Ryan declared, his voice resolute. "Search the manor, talk to the former staffs, see if anyone saw or heard anything unusual. And most importantly," he added, his gaze hardening, "investigate Viscount Conrad. I have a feeling he has more to explain than he's letting on."

Throne nodded curtly, a newfound urgency lacing his movements. "As you command, Your Grace," he said. "We shall leave no stone unturned."

The carriage rattled back to life, kicking up a cloud of dust as it pulled away from the imposing manor house. Ryan sank back into the plush leather seat, his brow furrowed in thought. The handprint on the doorframe had cast a long shadow, and a sense of unease gnawed at him.

"Davis," he called out to his aide, who sat across from him.

Davis, ever vigilant, straightened in his seat. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"How is the patrol at Count Cooper's residence?" Ryan inquired, his voice laced with concern.

Davis replied, "Nothing seems suspicious, Your Grace. They haven't reported any unusual activity."

Ryan nodded curtly. A flicker of concern crossed his features. "Could the... murderer, have gotten a tip that we're onto them?" he mused more to himself than to Davis.

Davis shook his head slightly. "It's a possibility, Your Grace," he conceded. "But our patrols are discreet. It's unlikely they've breached security measures." A flicker of worry crossed his face. "Though, it is… curious. The murderer hasn't made any move yet."

Ryan leaned back in his seat, his eyes closed. "Indeed, Davis. Indeed." He opened his eyes, a glint of determination in their depths. "Throne and I will continue our investigation at Lord Collin's Manor. But we need to broaden our scope."

"Of course, Your Grace," Davis readily agreed. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Yes," Ryan said, his voice sharp. "Have you finished researching the financial dealings of the deceased nobles and Conrad?"

"Not entirely, Your Grace," Davis replied, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a folded parchment. "However, I have unearthed some interesting information."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Interesting, you say? Do elaborate."

Davis unfolded the parchment and scanned its contents. "Viscount Conrad," he began, "appears to have loaned a significant sum of money to each of the deceased nobles shortly before their deaths."

"The financial records indicate that the nobles were in a considerable amount of debt, Your Grace," Davis explained. "Their properties were listed as collateral for the loans."

"And Lord Collin?" Ryan inquired, his voice laced with suspicion. "How much was he in debt to Conrad?"

Davis consulted the parchment again. "A hefty sum, Your Grace," he answered, his voice grave. "Enough to cover the entire value of Lord Collin's manor and a significant portion of his land."

The pieces were starting to fall into place, a picture of potential motive emerging. "So," Ryan said, his voice low and thoughtful, "if a noble couldn't repay the loan…"

"Viscount Conrad would legally have the right to claim their property," Davis finished, his voice grim. "With just three nobles deceased in quick succession, Viscount Conrad stands to gain a significant amount of land and wealth."

A cold wave of suspicion washed over Ryan. Was Viscount Conrad's financial involvement simply a case of shrewd business dealings, or was there something more sinister at play? The timing of the deaths, the convenient loan defaults, it all seemed… too coincidental.

"Keep digging, Davis," Ryan instructed, his voice laced with a steely resolve. "Uncover everything you can about Viscount Conrad. His past, his associates, any potential enemies… anything that might shed light on his connection to these unfortunate events."

Davis bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Yes, Your Grace," he said, his voice filled with unwavering determination. "I will leave no stone unturned."