Page 25 of If Not for the Duke

“I don’t care if I appear unattractive.” Lady Bernice responded with a defiant lift of her chin. “I would rather see.”

“I’m pleased you wore them,” Renwick said as they joined them.

“I think you look nice in them,” Lena added as she studied her. The small spectacles with their gold rims weren’t that noticeable and lent her an intelligent air.

Lady Bernice adjusted them, clearly self-conscious. “Thank you. I find it terribly disconcerting not to be able to see what everyone else does.”

“Social events are awkward enough without being at a disadvantage,” Lena said, ignoring the displeased look Mrs. Easton gave her.

After the near miss with the fountain when she’d first met Lady Bernice, she was surprised Mrs. Easton still disapproved of the spectacles.

“If a potential suitor turns away because of them, I am not to be blamed,” the older woman said with a disapproving sniff.

“Duly noted.” Renwick shared an approving look with Lena, the moment of connection causing her to draw a slow breath.

Her world tilted as she held his warm gaze. The light of interest in his brown eyes made her stomach dance. The urge to turn away nearly overwhelmed her. There was no need for such an extreme reaction. Renwick wasn’t interested in her in a romantic way. Nor was she interested in him.

The connection had lasted only a moment. Much like the flash of a falling star in the night sky. Over and done before one was even certain what had been seen.

Even if she became close friends with Lady Bernice, that didn’t mean she’d have further interactions with Renwick. His suspicious nature and lack of trust in others made him far too prickly as far as she was concerned.

Lena could imagine too well his reaction if he ever discovered her secret. All secrets had a cost. The thought was enough to cause her to shiver.

She forced herself to smile at Lady Bernice. “Thank you for allowing me to read the letters. They were certainly interesting.”

The lady’s eyes lit with pleasure. “I’m pleased you thought so. Why don’t I send the remaining letters over so you can read those as well? Then perhaps we can discuss them and compare ideas.”

Lena’s pulse jumped. “I’d like that.” Whether it was her sense of knowing or simply hope, she was certain the other letters contained helpful information about the possible treasure.

“Who knows what the two of you might find?” Renwick asked.

She didn’t know what she’d do if they did. She couldn’t imagine handing any discoveries over to Renwick so Clarke could take the credit. While she didn’t know why she was so determined to find out more, she couldn’t let this rest until she did.

Chapter Seven

Two days later,Lena settled in the drawing room at her desk to read the additional letters Lady Bernice had sent over. Then she read them again, only to sit back in the chair with a sigh of impatience. Why was nothing ever as easy as she wished it to be?

Her gaze shifted to the beautiful bouquet sitting on a nearby table as she pondered the additional odd lines the privateer had written. The flowers were still lovely despite the days that had passed since their arrival. Yet looking at them frustrated her as the bright blooms brought Renwick to the forefront of her thoughts. As if she needed a reminder of the man. He was already in her mind far too often.

The dance they’d shared at the ball had stolen into her dreams. They’d been waltzing alone in a ballroom, spinning as they danced, only a breath apart. The lilting music filled her entire being—until passion grew and took its place. Sterling had held her so close. So gently.

Then he’d smiled.

Ha! As if that would ever happen. She dismissed the image with a sweep of her hand through the air. If only she could so easily dispel it from her thoughts. She didn’t understand why she’d dreamed of him when she’d danced often without that ever happening.

Renwick unsettled her. She might not be able to name the reason, but he did. Was it only because of the link to Oak Island and her father?

She deliberately turned her back on the bouquet and focused on one of the letters. The privateer was remarkably prolific. He’d written to his love, the great-aunt of Sterling and Bernie, in amazing detail and with surprising regularity.

These were much like the others, full of news of Ebenezer Jenkins’s fellow shipmates, questions to the lady about her family, and of course, descriptions of the weather as he sailed about the world. The notes on Oak Island were achingly familiar. The frequent rain, especially in the autumn. The snow and cold in winter. The worst of the heat came in August, and December brought both rain and snow.

From what she could discern, Jenkins had visited the island on more than one occasion, though he never said why.

However, it was the strangely worded passages and vague references that had her rereading. The lack of specifics was maddening.

She’d had high hopes for the additional letters, partly because Lady Bernice had held them back and partly because of a feeling. But perhaps that had been optimism and nothing more.

What did she hope to accomplish anyway? Any details she discovered would be for naught. Mr. Johnson had left the island months ago. Lena had no intention of helping Clarke find treasure, though she dearly wanted to know how he was faring. She studied the last page of the letter again, unable to escape the nagging thought that she was missing something.

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