Page 94 of The Nature of a Lady
“Found nothing though, I assume?” Sheridan again, and the ladat Christmas had turned into one whose promise of his first fox hunt had been ruined by a downpour.
“No.”
“What about the Piper’s Hole here on St. Mary’s?” Oliver again, though not so much musing as enlightened. “That’s why you wanted to come here for the summer.”
“Well, I couldn’t just go poking around in the daytime. There are too many tourists about. I needed to be somewhere that I could easily do my exploring without anyone knowing. Though, again—nothing.”
“All right. What about where you found the map? Not that you’ve told us that bit.” Oliver seemed to be striving for patience in his tone, though she could hear its ragged edge. “Was there anything else in the same place that could be helpful?”
A beat of silence that spoke quite loudly. Louder than Beth’s voice when next she spoke. “Letters. From Mucknell to his wife. One of them mentioned that he would send her a songbird as a gift. I thought it was code, since that last ship was theCanary.”
“Secret codes. Perfect.” The lad at Christmas was back. “And that was the one with the silver, yes?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t find any other clues in the letters.”
“Well, get them out! I mean, that is—you could. We could help?”
Beth sighed. “I don’t have them here on St. Mary’s. They’re ... back in the place where I found them. For safekeeping. But I’ll fetch them later.”
Libby really ought to go out and join them. And she did want to see the map—not that she’d have any better idea what it might be denoting than the locals did. And if it were water damaged, how could they even be sure they had all the necessary information? With a quiet sigh, she rested a finger on the mirror of the microscope and gave it a twirl. Light flashed over the walls, floor, ceiling. And into her mind.
Water damage—it would have washed away most of the ink. But not necessarily all of it. Just what was visible to the naked eye.
She surged to her feet, gripping the neck of her microscope. Maybe shedidhave something to offer. She hurried into the outer room andto the kitchen table around which the others all huddled. “I may be able to help!”
They turned to her, their varied expressions saying so much about them. Her brother—doubtful. Sheridan—surprised she was still there. Mabena—indulgent. Beth and Lady Emily—curious.
Oliver—perfectly confident in her.
She smiled and moved to the table, nudging Oliver out of the way so that she could capture the light from the window.
He didn’t seem to mind. “Excellent thought, Libby. We may be able to see under magnification what we can’t normally.”
Bram, predictably, snarled. “Libby?Her name is Lady Eliz—”
“Really, Bram. Give it a rest.” She sat in the chair Oliver held out for her and nudged the mirror until it caught the sunlight and angled it up through her eyepiece. The brilliance broughtOrfeospringing up, but she’d only managed to hum the first four notes before Bram’s snort of laughter silenced her. Clearing her throat, she looked up at Beth. “May I?”
Beth passed the map to her, and her fingers closed around the worn parchment. It certainly felt old, and it looked it too. Having never really studied maps, though, she found the markings on it more scribbles than intelligible clues. How were they to know what the lines meant, and the dashes, and the swirly bits?
They weren’t relying on her to decode it though. Just to see if the parchment itself was hiding any other secrets. Praying her light was strong enough to help with that, she started in the corners that were intact and moved the parchment inch by inch to familiarize herself with how it looked.
“Well?” Sheridan.
Oliver chuckled. “Give her some time, my lord. I daresay she hasn’t examined much parchment under magnification before. It’ll take a bit of getting used to.”
She would have paused to shoot Oliver a grateful smile if she hadn’t just reached a portion that had some ink upon it. “How interesting.”
“What?” Sheridan must have abandoned his chair while she seteverything up, because he pushed Bram aside and crowded her left side. “What’s interesting?”
“The ink. Under magnification, it’s quite interesting. I can see where the iron gall has rusted and turned brown and still make out a bit of the black base of it as well. And I can see the flow change with the pen strokes. Quite interesting indeed.” She moved the map around, rolling the edges gently out of the way so she could trace the path of the long-ago pen.
“How is that helpful? Do you think?”
She sighed. “I said it wasinteresting, Lord Sheridan, nothelpful. Although—that’s odd.” She frowned and pulled away, blinked, then lowered her head again. “Probably nothing. But...”
“But?”
She slid the map back to the lines that were, presumably, some sort of directions. And then once more to whereCavewas scratched into the faded corner. “Maybe it’s from the exposure to water?”
