Page 93 of The Nature of a Lady
“Or worse, withholding information.” Oliver felt his every muscle go tight. “Their threats could well be carried out.”
“What, then?” Sheridan had picked up a whelk shell from one of the shelves and was passing it from one hand to the other. “Do we do, I mean? Let them find it and sell it to me so it’s all over? And just have the constable on alert? In case they try to duke it out?”
Lady Emily frowned. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“Oh. Well. It is, though.” He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’m the buyer.”
But the lady was shaking her head. “Not to say I doubt you, but—but I’ve made it a point to overhear as much as I possibly can about this, given that I’m the one who brought it to their attention for Beth. And they have more than one buyer interested. I’ve heard them whispering about higher bids and an auction. They’ve made mention of an American.”
“What?” The whelk went flying.
Telford, face placid, snatched it out of the air and slid it back onto the shelf.
Sheridan sputtered for a moment, then his face went positively ferocious. “New plan, then.” His gaze moved to Beth, then to Oliver and Libby. “We find it first.”
25
One month. One month to the day since that first Wednesday when it had all begun. When the man had found Libby on the beach and handed her the cannonball. One month since Oliver had knocked on her door and demanded to know where his sister was. One month that she’d called this cottage home.
How, in one little month, could her world have changed so fully? Libby trailed Beth through the cottage—hers, then theirs—toward the bedroom they’d both called their own. She’d known all along that someone else had stayed there before her. Many someones else. She’d known this was just a rented cottage that she’d spend a season in and then leave. But it hadn’t felt strange before.
It did now, following a former occupant into the bedroom and watching as she knelt down in front of the chest of drawers, reached under it, and peeled something off the bottom of the drawer that had always stuck.
Beth’s hand emerged with two pieces of paper. Or rather, one large piece of brown paper that closely matched the wood of the drawer, adhesive tape edging it. And a smaller piece of parchment that the paper had clearly been protecting.
A treasure map, hidden all this time beneath her stockings. Libbysank to a seat on the little desk chair while Beth flipped the parchment over and spread it on the top of the chest.
“If you’ve retrieved it, do bring it out here so the rest of us can see it, Beth,” Oliver called. The gentlemen, of course, hadn’t followed them into the bedroom. Which was good, because if they had, this whole situation would feel even more surreal, the place even less Libby’s, despite all her things still taking up residence.
Or some of them. Nearly half her belongings were in her room at the Moons’ now. And Darling had been curled up happily in Mrs. Moon’s lap when they left, seeming to have adjusted rather well to his new mobile life. The only possession still in this room that shouted her ownership was the microscope at her elbow.
This wasn’t really her room, wasn’t really her life. But being here had made the world of London and Telford Hall seem so far away, so unattractive.
She glanced out the door, catching a glimpse of her brother. He hadn’t said anything else about leaving—yet. Not while his best friend was set on finding a pirate treasure, not while Mamm-wynn was still largely unresponsive. But he would soon. He’d grant her a week, if she was lucky. It wasn’t enough though. If a month had been enough time to make her think this was where she truly belonged, one more week wasn’t enough to satisfy that yearning to curl into her place here. The rest of the summer wouldn’t be either. She wanted to see autumn paint its colors over the heather and gorse. She wanted to note the birds that left, the others to come. She wanted to watch for seals and whales and who knew what else as winter winds danced around the islands. She wanted to see fresh life spring up again months before it did on the mainland, covering the fields in flowers that the locals would harvest and send inland.
“Are you coming?” Mabena’s hand landed on her shoulder, her voice intruding softly.
Libby forced a smile but barely glanced away from the window she’d been staring out. “In a minute. Go on. I just need to memorize the view a bit more.” Who knew when next she’d see it? She meantto stay on Tresco until Mamm-wynn was well. After which Bram would try to make her go home. Try to make her marry Sheridan, who still hadn’t had the sense to object. And Mama would push for the same.
But what could she really do to argue? She had no means of her own with which to stay here—her inheritance was all tied to her dowry or held in trust by her brother. She was at the mercy of her family. Which had never been so bad before, but now...
She could hear her companions in the other room, their voices an odd collection she’d never expected to hear grouped together. Bram and Sheridan verbally jostled each other—probably as they physically jostled each other for the best view of the map.
“Easy, gentlemen.” Beth sounded half-amused and half-impatient with them. “We can’t even know for certain if itisa treasure map.”
“But it has anX!” Sheridan’s voice, other than being too deep, sounded exactly like a lad’s on Christmas morning.
“There are no landmarks though, no outlines to give us a hint as to which island it is.” Oliver, his tone contemplative. “How would we know where to begin or what it denotes? It could be leading anywhere. There isn’t even a compass rose to tell us how to orient it.”
“That was my concern too, hence why I’ve been using the copy I made of this original in a variety of locations. But up here in the corner—you’ll see what looks like ‘from theJohn.’ And thatMmade me think Mucknell. And look here.” A tapping, presumably as Beth pointed to something. “It sayscave. Or maybecavern—there’s a bit of water damage here. Which means, if it’s Scilly—”
“Piper’s Hole.” Mabena let loose a long breath. “On Tresco?”
“That was where I searched first, it being so near home. And I’ve looked several times since in the last month.”
Oliver’s huff might have been a laugh. Maybe. “Why do I have the feeling that if we noted when you’d been there, it would align with Enyon’s sleepless nights?”
Beth sounded sheepish as she said, “I’ve tried to be quiet.”
