Page 70 of To Treasure an Heiress
Well, that wasn’t altogether true either. So, he started with the obvious.
Dear Abbie and Millicent. Or Millicent and Abbie. Can’t recall whose turn it is to come first, so my apologies if I’ve mixed it up.
His lips tugged up a bit as he lifted his pen, remembering how serious he’d felt as a lad of eight, away at school for the first time and debating for an eternity over whether it was fair to always put Abbie’s name first just because she was eldest, or if Millicent would be offended. He’d explained in that first letter that he would alternate the honor from then on, and their return letter had thanked him most eloquently for his conscientiousness.
They’d probably had a good laugh about it, which he was old enough now to know. Even so. Tradition was tradition, and usually he could keep it straight—but his mind was a bit muddled right now, so they’d just have to forgive him.
First, thank you for your quick action on behalf of Ainsley’s family—knew you’d come through. You surprised even me by how quickly you replied, though. Thought I’d have to wait at least a day for a return telegram, but it was waiting for me when I got home from ... an outing today.
Are you two bored in London yet? I hope so. Or you know what I mean. Or will. I need you to come to the Isles of Scilly as soon as you can arrange it. Well, after a detour to the castle. And bring all my Rupert artifacts, if you would. You know which ones they are, don’t you? Millicent, I know you do, you were there chattering about feathers or fringe or something while I was cataloguing my collection a few months ago. Remember? The catalogue is in the library. Use it as your guide. Everything should fit in a trunk or two.
Make sure you don’t forget the latest addition—the trinket box.
He paused to drag in a deep breath. This, of course, was his whole reason for writing a letter to them, rather than just another quick wire of thanks for their help with squiring away Ainsley’s family. Perhaps Beth had softened, perhaps she even liked him now, perhaps she’d just helped nudge their relationship into an actualcourtship and out of his one-sided imaginings. But she wouldn’t be able to fully forgive what had made her detest him at the start until he righted what she saw as his gravest wrong.
He had to return the box to her.
And he didn’t mind, not really. It was just a box—interesting, and he’d loved the thought of owning it. But it was nothing compared to her. He’d give her that and anything else she wanted if she’d just look at him again as she had when she asked him for another chance.
He bent over the paper again.
The trinket box is on the shelf in my bedroom at the castle, not with the other items in the gallery. Which the catalogue would tell you. Six inches square, three high, has Rupert’s crest engraved on the lid, gold-leafed. You know the one. I’d love if you’d bring it yourselves, but if you can’t, could you at least send that? But not by post—can’t risk damage. You’d have to send a courier.
So, really, you might as well come yourselves. Easier that way, and of course I’d love to see you. And you’d love to see the islands. And ... well. Some bad news. No, not bad. Actually. Good news. Lady Elizabeth is engaged to a local here, the Reverend Mr. Oliver Tremayne. Stand-up chap. I quite like him, and she adores him, and he her.
Now, don’t start with any of the “poor Theo” nonsense, all right? You know I wasn’t ... that is ... she’s Telly’s sister, and a fine young woman, and it would have been an easy thing, but I wasn’t attached, exactly. And especially am not now. There’s someone else I’ve met while I’ve been here, and...
What should he tell them about Beth?Nothing, that was what. If he gave them any information, they’d just use it to compose all those arguments Ainsley was sure they’d have, and he did hate arguing with his sisters. Better to let them meet her first and come to like her. Then he’d share his feelings, along with his own carefullyconstructed arguments for why they should approve of her. Which he’d accomplish best in person, when he could ply them with sweets pilfered from Telford’s stash and smile and remind them of what a charming lad he was and how much they adored him.
Some things just didn’t belong in a letter.
Just come, will you? And I’d be grateful if you wouldn’t dawdle about it. No doubt you have morning calls and balls and soirees and such rot every day of the week, but cancel a few, won’t you, for your dearest darlingest little brother? I’ll repay you with some pirate treasure hunting. And my eternal gratitude, of course.
Yours,
Theo
There. He gave the ink a minute to dry and then folded the page and slid it into an envelope, doing mental calculations as he scrawled the address of their London house onto the front. Even if they left London directly upon receiving it—which he doubted—it would take them at least a day to travel home. They’d go by train—they’d just had their private car refurnished that spring, after all—but even so. His sisters didn’t exactly travel light, which meant they didn’t travel fast.
So, a day to home. A dayathome, packing up his things. He could have asked themonlyfor the box, but he wanted to show Beth the rest of the Rupert and Mucknell collection too. Then, another day of train travel to Penzance.
He had at least a week before they’d get here, by his estimation. Possibly more, because despite his wheedling, they probably wouldn’t hurry away from London, given that he hadn’t said it was an emergency.
For a second, he considered opening the envelope again and saying it was. But that didn’t seem like a good idea. Then they’d be ina panic, and when his sisters got in a panic, things got left behind. They’d probably get themselves here in a hurry but not even bother to go home for the box, which would defeat the whole purpose.
Patience was clearly the better course. And before he could change his mind on that, he took the letter to the table in the entryway where outgoing post was left for whomever was going to the village next. Ainsley would take it in the morning when he went for the newspaper, if no one did before.
His valet slipped to his side even now, face somber. “My lord, I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were sitting with Miss Tremayne. But if you have a moment, you’ll be interested in what my cousin wanted.”
Sheridan could hear Mamm-wynn’s silver bells of laughter coming from the drawing room where Beth was, so he knew he wouldn’t be missed for another minute or two. He nodded. Ainsley briefed him quickly on the conversation from the Gardens and what he’d said.
Sheridan’s lips twitched up. “Lying. Tsk-tsk. What would Ainsley say?”
Ainsley slanted him an unamused look. “Feeding someone false information in order to prevent a crime is hardlylying.”
He had to chuckle. “Stroke of genius, really. Send them off every which way chasing false leads while Beth recovers—not that we knew that part at the time. That she’d have to recover. But God did, clearly. Quite amazing how He’s working all this out.”
That Ainsley granted with an inclined head. “Perhaps this evening we can work out the details we’d like them to chase.” He glanced over his shoulder at the front door, behind which clattering footsteps could be heard approaching. Tremayne and Telly coming back, no doubt.
