Page 26 of War of the Wedding Wagers
Even she seemed taken aback by her vehemence in saying the word “ghost” that hung in the air.
Amelia seized the initiative before Sir Frederick had a chance to respond. She might be a young lady with an independent mind, but she now wanted to play peace-maker to prove she was capable of that, too.
So she smiled and said, “Is she really? This is Lady Pendleton’s Ghostly Gathering. And Lady Pernilla is a convenient prop. Can we say with certainty that the letters we’ve found are real?” She pointed to the letter in Miss Playford’s hand. “And what of the letter in the volume ofPride and Prejudicein the library? Perhaps that was a clever prop, too?”
“But the painting!” Miss Playford objected. “That was a genuine painting.”
“Yes, but of Miss Pernilla?” Amelia asked. “I think we should set our minds to discovering the last clue and put an end to all this. It’s a game, nothing more.”
Sir Frederick, who’d remained quietly standing by the door, regarding them both with surprising gravity, now said, “A game it might be, but everything you’ve said has more depth than a game should give rise to. Ladies, you’ve given me pause. I admit to feeling put in my place. Not that what you’ve said changes my mind with regard to the man who would run off with my sister at the first opportunity. And she, susceptible to his flattery, would need nothing more than a little persuasion.”
“Yes, but your sister is only seventeen and the gentleman of whom you speak is clearly a man of dubious reputation,”said Amelia. “I am of the same mind when you speak of your concerns, Sir Frederick. But I speak merely in generalities. If Lady Pernilla did indeed exist, and if the letters we’ve read are real, then she is in the very situation where I lament her inability to exercise the choice to follow her heart. Now.” Amelia cleared her throat. “Let us read again the final clue. We were so keen to win this treasure hunt but we’ve allowed ourselves to be diverted by philosophical discussions.”
Quietly, Miss Playford took the paper Sir Frederick handed her and read:
“A room untouched by time’s swift flight,
Where a lady’s ghost still walks at night.
Seek the mirror that reflects no face,
Behind its glass, find the final place.”
“We should have realized what that meant,” Amelia said, smiling, as she went to the dressing table and picked up the hand-held looking glass, cracked and aged. As she began to prise the glass from its backing, Sir Frederick gently took it from her. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he said, “when I have the right tools here.” Using the paper knife lying on the dressing table, they all gasped at what was revealed.
In the backing was a small cavity, and in this cavity were two gold rings. With a frown, Sir Frederick raised them to the light of his lantern, squinting as he took in the tiny engraved initials.
“What is it?” asked Miss P. “Are they Lady Pernilla’s and William’s rings? Surely this can’t be real? Lady Pernilla was made to marry someone else.”
“I think we really can’t be too sure of Lady Pernilla’s real story,” Amelia said, stepping closer, her heart beating a little more rapidly as she directed an enquiring look at Sir Frederick. “Can you read an inscription?”
He nodded. “P and W. That’s what it says. It’s very clear.” He hesitated, squinting at the box, then pulling back a small square of paper folded into the bottom.
With a short laugh, he read:
“Your attempts were sound,
For the treasure is found!”
The young ladies gasped. “So, is this the treasure? But these rings are heirlooms. Surely they belong to the family,” said Amelia. “What do you suppose Lady Pendleton is up to with this strange treasure hunt? Or is it all make-believe?”
Sir Frederick’s frown had given way to a mask of skepticism. “I think that is exactly what it is. She’s made us all feel that her tragic relative is truly a ghost, and she’s gone to great lengths to fabricate everything.”
Miss Playford sat down heavily on the counterpane, coughing once more before she said, “Oh, she’s not real? I am so disappointed.” She sighed. “Well, we’ve found the treasure. And it is valuable, is it not?”
Sir Frederick shook his head. “Two gold rings? I think not. Still, it was a fine game.”
Chapter Fifteen
After the excitementof the treasure hunt, the ball was always going to be second best.
Amelia tried to do justice to the occasion. She went to her bedchamber and changed into her best ballgown which was refurbished from the previous year. It was only the previous year that she’d begun to start to feel she might almost be ready to return to the marriage mart. She’d been admired and felt a stirring of interest in a young man whose intentions had, it transpired to her embarrassment, been more focused in toying with Amelia’s affections in order to stir up the jealousy of the young lady he eventually married.
It had made Amelia feel something of a fool. She had, fortunately, not fallen in too deep, but it was a reminder that her beloved Thomas was a man apart. There would only ever be one Thomas with precious few more good men like him in the world.
So, although she might appreciate Sir Frederick’s handsome jaw, his athletic physique, and his charm, she must remember that he was like most other men similarly blessed with good looks—and a great many who weren’t. The interest he professed in the ladies was to further the interests of no one else but himself.
And yes, the treasure hunt had been staged. Every trio had discovered some “treasure” relating to Miss Pernilla and her tragic love story. Every trio had been similarly duped andthere was no ghostly apparition who stalked the corridors, Lady Pendleton had admitted.
