Lady Laurel beamed. “How they do gaze at one another with the light of love in their eyes.”
“Shalt be thy task to get them to look aright when the time comes.” He brushed her lips with a gentle kiss.
“Me thinks that time is now.” Releasing her hand he reached into his pocket.
Lady Laurel flitted to the couple standing beneath the “hearts.” Pulling a handful of laurel leaves from the topiary she tossed them at the pair
.
* * * *
Eldridge crept out of Heart Haven’s kitchen’s rear door where he had left a bottle of tainted wine as gift for Richard. When he heard voices there, he hastened towards the garden. Taking refuge behind a Grecian rendering of Diana he watched Daphne and Richard take a stance beneath the laurel hearts and look towards the house.
What is this
? Eldridge crept toward them. His gaze lit on their clasped hands. This after all he had done to instill distrust of each other in them. He ground his teeth.
After an interminable time Eldridge willed them to action.
Move. Find the dammed treasure if that is what you mean to do.
He shifted impatiently. A beam of light winked across the night. Eldridge blinked, peered keenly about the area but could not find its source. The beam steadied at the foot of the hillock. He followed its path and saw it glint off a windowed door behind a small balcony on the first floor of Heart Haven.
“Do you see it?” he heard Richard ask Daphne.
“What room is there?”
Eldridge tried to imagine the floor plan.
“’Tis a small chamber. Unaltered over the years,” Richard explained. “Mother decreed it remain untouched.”
Eldridge, gaze on the window, gasped as a dull light began to fill the room behind the windowed door.
“Do you see that?” Daphne exclaim.
Eldridge looked back to the pair. He saw Richard release Daphne’s hand and step forward.
“Mayhaps the treasure does exist,” Richard said. “Mother will be vastly well pleased.”
Eldridge caught a blur of movement behind his cousin. To his astonishment Richard crumpled to the ground. Then Daphne, skirts in hand, raced toward the house.
* * * *
Daphne choked back a sob as she pushed open the front door of Heart Haven. As she entered a swirl of laurel leaves danced about her feet. She didn’t dare glance back. The memory of the thud of the rock inside her reticule colliding with Richard’s head made her shudder. She hadn’t just knocked him unconscious. She had destroyed any chance for the reality of the dream she saw in Richard’s eyes. Now there was no hope, no turning back now.
At the foot of the grand staircase Daphne paused, her breath harsh to her ears. She started up the stairs warring between family needs and Richard’s right to the treasure.
You fool, it may not even exist
, Daphne chided herself as she fumbled in her reticule. But the auras of the specters who had actually shown themselves to Richard and her said differently. She glanced down. The laurel leaves were still with her. A moment later she had her candle lit and hurried up the stairs.
When Daphne burst into the small chamber the beam of light still played against a wreath of laurel leaves carved into one of a quadrant of small panels opposite the balcony doors. It flared brightly and disappeared as she drew to an abrupt halt.
* * * *
“What was the gel thinking?” Lady Laurel asked as she bent over Richard’s prone form.
“A woman’s foolishness,” Lord Ricman said, the words pricked with sarcasm.
“He shouldn’t have mentioned his mother,” Lady Laurel sighed. “It panicked Daphne.”
“Just as ye were ‘panicked’ when ye coshed me ov’r the head at Biddleage those years ago?
“Get to the chamber gel,” he added, impatient to be done with the mirror.
“Thou meant to do battle with Father,” his wife retorted as if it explained all. “He stirs.”
“’Course he does—that tap couldn’t do more than stun him but a moment. “Finally,” he breathed seeing Daphne’s dark form enter the room and pocketed the mirror.
Lady Laurel straightened as Richard pushed up to a sitting position. “Do you hear something?”
“We are not alone,” intoned Lord Ricman in his eeriest voice.
* * * *
Daphne studied the panel, certain the specters wanted her to do something with it. She walked up to it and lightly touched it. She gasped when the panel clicked and slid to one side. In the light of her lone candle a wooden box stood in the small opening. Daphne reached to withdraw it, hesitated, and then slowly took it from its resting place.
A gust of wind rattling the balcony doors turned Daphne to it. She clutched the box to her chest as Richard paused in the inner doorway.
The intensity of his gaze sent Daphne a step back. Deep regret flared in her heart; flickered in her eyes.
Richard walked forward, a hand extended.
Daphne thought he meant to take the box. But when he reached her, he carefully took the candle from her hand.
“Open it,” Richard commanded.
Their gazes met, locked. In the sudden startling quiet of the room Daphne could hear their hearts race in unison. The chasm that lay between them was, for the moment, set aside.
“Open it,” Richard repeated quietly.
With trembling fingers Daphne eased the delicate iron latch free. With bated breath she gently lifted the lid.
Both stared at the tiny slender gold key lying upon an aged piece of parchment in the box.
Daphne blinked back tears. So much risked. So much lost.
Richard touched Daphne’s arm. “Could it be the key to the
hearts
in the portrait?”
Their gazes locked. At her nod, he picked it up.
Swallowing hard, Daphne removed the bit of parchment beneath it. She read, “
Intertwined laurel, Intertwined hearts, Where they meet, They never shall part
.”
Another senseless verse. Another dead end
. Daphne caught her breath on a half sob.
“It means something,” Richard insisted. A perplexed grimace darkened his features. “This box is made from the wood of the laurel. Laurel is part of the Blanchard women’s seal. My mother’s seal. We know about the
hearts
pin even if we do not have it in hand. What else might the words tell us?”
The laurel stirred at Daphne’s feet. She flicked a glance at them, then stiffened. “The box moved in my hands.”
Richard held out the candle and his free hand.
Daphne placed the box in his hand and took the candle.
“Bring the candle close.” Richard turned the box over end for end, side for side. Turning the bottom upright he grimaced. “There is nothing to be seen. Nothing that could move.”
“Wait.” Daphne placed her hand atop his. Her pulse leapt
at the contact. She was certain his also did. She forced her gaze from his to the box. “This was not here when I first took it in hand.”
“What? I see nothing.”
Daphne drew her finger slowly across the box’s center. Certainty curved her lips. A glint of triumph lit her eyes. She took Richard’s hand and pressed one of his fingers across the surface.
“A laurel branch and an intertwined heart?” Richard paused and then asked. “You have seen this design before?”
Daphne nodded.
“Where?”
She shook her head. To reveal that would be to lose everything. Unless? “If you give your word—”
“I gave it to my mother before I left for Heart Haven.”
The chasm between them yawed wide as she knew it would.
We are enemies set against one another. That is what we have always been.
Tell him. ‘Tis but a throw of dice. A gamble you could yet win
, Reason whispered.
“Where have I seen it?” Daphne said slowly. She tried to read Richard’s intent and then thought of
harmony
.
“Downstairs in the library. There is a carved panel there.” The tiniest alteration in his expression said he knew the answer all along.
When Richard motioned for her to return the slip of parchment to the box Daphne did so. He placed the key atop it and put the box in her free hand then gently took the candle from her.
Daphne was surprised and dismayed when he took her hand, turned it, raised it to his lips, and kissed the pulsing vein in her wrist. Was he playing with her?
“Let us discover our hearts,” he whispered and offered her his arm.
Was there yet more pain to be had
? Daphne wondered as she gazed into his eyes.
No matter what, I shall take this last puzzle to solve with him.
When they reached the library Richard lit the pair of candelabras on the writing desk. While he did so Daphne studied the aged weathered oak panel from the first house built by Lord Ricman. It was framed by delicately carved mullions that hung above the desk.
Daphne fingered the carving. “Laurel.”
“And the hearts,” Richard said. He gently pressed on the edges of the panel. “It is tight. I doubt there is anything behind it.”
Turning over the box in her hands Daphne fingered the laurel leaf pattern.
Richard joined her. He traced the faint image of the intertwined hearts below the leaf pattern.
A soft
click
stilled both. They stared at a line that appeared as if magically drawn across the wood.
Richard took the box and slowly drew his hand across the bottom. It slid forward revealing a secret tray.
With trembling fingers Daphne picked up the verdant green velvet pouch that lay in it. She eased the small oblong object inside it onto Richard’s hand.
The delicate beauty of the intricately made golden intertwined hearts fashioned by a skilled artisan centuries before stole her breath. Enchantment surrounded the locket pin.
“’Tis found,” Richard said, shocked amazement clear in his voice. He met Daphne’s stunned gaze. “You found it.”
“We did,” said Daphne. One of the lines in the verse rang clearly through her thoughts.
If they but triumph over invidious lure and bloodied pride
.
“All’s fair in love and treasure,” Richard said and shoved the box impatiently at her.
Gulping Daphne accepted it and retrieved the tiny key. Her hand shook as she slid it into the slot in the lower center of the hearts in Richard’s hand. Nervously wetting her lips, she turned it.
The top half of the pin lifted slightly.
Daphne nudged it up. A layer of brilliant gems filled the space. “Geoffrey’s debts could be paid in full,” she whispered.
“I can’t permit that,” Eldridge drawled from the library’s doorway. “Why should your fool of a brother profit from my treasure.”
Daphne watched him edged into the rim of candlelight. A malevolent grin curled his lips.
“Let me see what you have found my dear cousin,” Eldridge demanded.
“Hold fast,” a man said behind Eldridge.
“Geof,” Daphne squeaked.
“Don’t be utterly birdwitted, Stratton,” Eldridge growled.
“Lay down your weapon,” Geoff demanded. He halted behind Eldridge.
“I’ll put a ball in your sister’s heart first.”
On the word sister, Daphne saw Eldridge turn and slam his free hand into Geoffrey’s wrist. He caught the pistol as it fell. Just as quickly Eldridge backed away, one pistol trained on Daphne and Richard, the other on Geoffrey.
“Turn your back,” he ordered Stratton.
“It was you all along,” began Geoffrey as he did so.
Daphne barely concealed a scream as Eldridge rapped the butt of his pistol hard against the back of Geoffrey’s head. Her brother dropped to the floor unconscious.
“Now, now,” Eldridge cautioned the remaining pair.
An ashen Daphne halted when Eldridge cocked the pistol and trained on her chest. She saw that Richard had come forward with her. He halted beside her
“Now where were we, dear cousin,” Eldridge sneered. “Ah yes, show me what you have found.”
Daphne saw that Richard’s fingers remained tightly clasped about the pin. “Leave before you do irrevocable harm. You have no say in this.”
“Oh, but I do.” Eldridge jeered. “I will see it. Now.”
“Don’t do this, Mr. Blanchard,” Daphne protested. “Richard is your cousin. You were raised with him. Family is all we have when we lose everything.”
“Family?” Eldridge sneered. “Like your worthless pup of a brother? Family has been of no use to you, my dear. Stratton was too stupid to see that I caused his difficulties and yours, especially in regard to prospective husbands.” He chuckled mirthlessly.
“Why do all of that? Why ruin us?” Daphne prompted. If she could keep Eldridge talking perhaps Richard could think of something, some way to escape.
“’Twas all to force you to search for the treasure,” Eldridge sneered. “You are nearly as beef brained as your brother. But a very pretty fool.”
His leer sparked a spiral of fear in Daphne. By sheer force of will she did not retreat.
“How gullible you both were.”
Eldridge’s grin was wicked. It tightened the coil of fear in Daphne.
“Don’t you find the penny sheets a deft touch?” Eldridge asked. “You never suspected who wrote them. Neither of you.
“You, my bloody prim and proper cousin,” he scoffed. “’Twas a lucky turn that I even managed to get you and Stratton to the same table that first night.”
Daphne quailed when he flicked the pistol toward Richard.
“Take what he holds and bring it to me,” Eldridge ordered her. When she did not move he snorted. “I am applying pressure to the trigger. If you do not bring it to me now, I shall do something I have longed to do for many a year.”
“Why doest thou not act?” Lady Laurel asked grimly as she and her husband surveyed the scene.
“Thou knowest we cannot touch living beings,” Lord Ricman growled.
“He means to murder Richard and ravage Daphne.”
“Over my dead body.”
“But we are dead,” Lady Laurel said. She frantically looked around for an object with which to strike Eldridge.