Page 32 of An Earl Unmasked
“I’m proud to be the cause.”
He shook his head and headed for the library, confused by Diana’s innate ability to make him smile and evoke within him a sense of happiness he had long forgotten but was glad to know he was still capable of experiencing.
Preoccupied with thoughts, he waited for Diana to open the door. He took three steps into the room and froze. Unprepared for the sight of Minerva and Greg engaged in a battle of pillows. Although he and his brother had only been two years apart in age, they never played together as children, and as adults rarely shared the same interests, with the exception that they both joined His Majesty’s army to fight the Frogs. The one thing they shared, and it had led to his brother’s death.
Diana leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “I apologize for their childish behavior.”
“It is rather refreshing to see Minerva with her guard down.”
“She really is perfect.”
“Mayhap for Drake, but not for me.”
“What makes you certain?”
“They are opposites. Drake portrays himself as relaxed and uncaring, while I suspect he really is the serious sort, and Minerva is perceived to be controlled and somber, except those who know her well know she is playful and fun.”
Diana frowned, “I don’t believe our ruse to make Drake jealous worked.”
“Your sister shared with me her rational for abandoning the plan, and Minerva is right—if Drake can’t figure it out on his own, he doesn’t deserve her.”
“I can’t believe he could be that dimwitted not to realize what is right before him.”
“Some men are not as smart as I.”
“Oh, is that so?” She smiled. “You shall have to prove to me how smart you really are…by assisting me with your papa’s blasted clues.”
He crept closer to the desk, attempting to remain unnoticed but failed.
Minerva yelped, “Oh, you have returned.” She rushed to Diana’s side and bent low to whisper, “I apologize it didn’t occur to me you might need to visit the privy.”
Diana groaned. “We were working on solving the next clue.”
“Oh.” Minerva twisted to return the pillow to the settee. “What did you find?”
“The clue led us to the ballroom.”
“Ballroom!” Minerva picked up the parchment with the clues that remained on the desk. “Good gracious, we never would have deciphered that without Chestwick’s assistance. Well, what did you find?” Randal’s mind reeled from the numerous discoveries he had made in the ballroom, but none had to do with his papa’s riddles.
Diana extracted the wooden graphite from her hair and spoke as she wrote, “Ballroom. Dancing. Sheet music. Pianoforte. Melody.” She followed the words with a series of question marks.
Minerva said, “Addsongsto the list.”
Diana peered up at her sister, then shook her head and did as her sister had bid—adding the wordsongs. Watching the siblings work in harmony was enlightening and invoked a strange hunger within Randal—did he want to become a member of this unruly lot? Unstructured days. No defined purpose. The life of an idle gentleman—his mind screamed at him to attend to his affairs and return to his men, but his heart tugged at the thought of leaving Diana.
Minerva squinted at the paper and read aloud. “Clue number five: I have eighty-five keys. None unlock any doors, but they are fundamental to me.”
Greg stretched his long arms out and placed his hands behind his head. “I’m aghast you spent your summers muddling over riddles such as these.”
Diana stiffened at her brother’s statement. “Is that so? I presume you believe you have the answer.”
“I do not.” Greg smiled. “Mayhap my mind works best dealing with facts. Not obscure references.”
Diana looked up, and her lips moved, counting in silence. Randal was so preoccupied fantasizing over those lips, he was slow to react when a pillow went flying past him, hitting Gregory in the head.
Minerva said, “My dear brother, if you are not going to be of assistance, I suggest you take yourself elsewhere.”
“And miss all the fun.” Greg hugged the pillow to his chest and closed his eyes.
