A Heart's Treasure

by Teresa DesJardien

  “Wot ’appened?” the stable boy asked in wide-eyed expectation.

  Xavier allowed his jaw to work as though from strong emotion. “He was dead, of course, next morning. We found him, his arms raised and frozen before him, as though he’d tried to shield himself from…something. Something that had come out of the ice storm and frozen his heart solid.” Xavier thumped his chest over his own heart, nodding at the murmurs and hesitant laughs around him.

  “But wot of yer eye, guv’ner?” the boy pressed,

  “Ah yes, my eye. You see, it was so very bitterly cold, that as soon as I saw my brother thus, tears welled into my eyes and froze as they fell. They froze my face, turned my left eye into one long icicle, and when I tried to break it off the eye itself came away and I was left with the resultant scar you see today.”

  “Blimey!” the boy said, but he’d not been fooled because he laughed, and others laughed with him. Xavier returned to his chair to scattered applause, putting out his hand toward Haddy, who promptly passed over his glowing pipe.

  “That was a grisly tale,” Kenneth commented dryly as Xavier puffed on the pipe, and handed it back to Haddy.

  “It seemed the night for a grisly tale.”

  “I must agree with that,” Michael said around his own pipe stem. “We were chilled, drenched, and my best velvet cutaway ruined beyond redemption by mud. The only thing keeping me from promptly hiring a chaise back to London is the fact you had this very gratifying port awaiting us as soon as we came through the door.” He lifted his glass, making a dip of a salute in Xavier’s direction.

  Xavier inclined his head, but when he looked up it was to rise abruptly to his feet. Seeing the ladies had come down to the common room to join them, the other men stood at well.

  Genevieve led the ladies, her head held high so that Xavier had to grin despite the sudden pounding in his chest, not doubting for a moment this venture had been her suggestion, for even Penelope looked a trifle sheepish at their daring. The impropriety of ladies coming into the common room created a buzz of muted exclamations, but Genevieve refused to acknowledge it, coming directly to their table. She stopped before them, hands demurely folded. “We’ve grown beyond bored, and don’t care to sleep,” she announced.

  Michael shook his head, removing his pipe and setting it in a glass bowl, saying directly to his fiancée, “Summer, this is most—”

  “Irregular, yes,” Genevieve cut in. “But, you see, we’ve decided we don’t care.” She blinked twice, silently daring her brother to refuse her. Summer’s color was high, but she didn’t speak or turn to leave.

  The brothers looked pained, but the moment was decided for them when Xavier nudged out the bench on which he’d been sitting and swept his arm in a gesture above it. “Cards, my ladies?” He didn’t even try to fight his own desires, and although he’d not wanted the ladies’ company either—but more than peace or quiet, he wanted to see Genevieve pleased enough with him to smile, to perhaps see again that moment of…attention…in her eyes.

  “And claret,” Genevieve said, giving him a gracious nod made all the more pronounced by the twinkle in her eye. Exactly what I wanted, and oughtn’t want. Her gratification was in contrast with the way Laura held herself, obviously less comfortable with this act of public bravado than was Genevieve.

  “And claret,” Xavier confirmed, waving down Michael’s obvious protest before he could utter it. Once you’ve fallen over the cliff, why not enjoy the rush of air in your face while you can? “Oh, come, man,” he joshed Michael. “Let this be a small scandal we recall of our youth once we’ve grown old.”

  Michael may have given him a curled lip, but Genevieve’s bright smile was as he’d hoped for. Xavier raised his hand to signal the innkeeper for service.

  “As you will, then,” Haddy muttered, giving in to the moment. “But I’ll not be putting out my pipe.”

  Summer made a point of sitting on Michael’s far side, away from Haddy.

  Michael looked down at his own pipe, which had ceased to burn, and glanced at Summer, who said naught but wrinkled her nose. He sighed with apparent annoyance, but the pipe remained in the bowl.

  Cards were provided, which Haddy, as usual, inspected, though this time a trifle more discreetly than he’d inspected the dice in Wycombe. Satisfied, he suggested, “Cassino?”

  “That is for groups of four. We don’t wish to be divided, do we?” Xavier said quickly.

  “Oh no,” Summer said at once. “Cast and Catch?”

  Michael looked down at his betrothed again with a modicum of censure, but then heaved a sigh and gave in yet again. “We might as well. It’s a mindless game, which might well suit this group.”

  “It will leave us free to chat,” Genevieve approved as Haddy made a growling noise, but otherwise didn’t speak against the children’s game.

  As they played, they recounted the evening’s experiences. Michael told them how his foot was nearly run over, and Haddy explained how many men it took to hold the carriage up while the new wheel was fixed on the axle.

  “It was unfortunate,” Kenneth said, grinning despite his own words, “but one of the stable lads couldn’t keep his feet under him. The poor fellow fell at least three times, and was covered in mud from cap to shoes. I’ve never seen so woebegone a face.”

  The ladies then put aside the cards and explained their own disasters, complete with descriptions of the “joy” of sitting inside a tilted carriage.

  As Laura described the deepness of the night when the moon was cloaked in clouds, Xavier became aware of Genevieve’s stare from a couple seats down and across the table. A mere flick of his eyes assured him that she gazed upon him, and it took him a long moment to let his eyes move back to meet hers. Her dark eyes took him in, and there was warmth in her gaze, in the set of her mouth. When he stopped before the inn to assist the ladies from the coach, she’d laid a hand on his arm, gazed up into his face, and quietly, sincerely thanked him for standing guard over them. Was there something yet of that in her face, her mouth poised as though to say the words again…? She seemed to be waiting. But waiting for what…?

  “Xavier? Have you a guess?” Penelope was asking.

  He rallied, finding all eyes on him now. “Pardon me? A guess?” Damn the room’s revealing candlelight, he was sure he flushed red.

  “He wasn’t listening,” Penelope said to Kenneth. Turning back to her brother, she said, “Really, Xavier, we’ve moved on to one of the Little Riddles.” Before he could respond, she went on, “Ask it again, Kenneth, please.”

  Kenneth obeyed. “This region of our fair country was, in the seventh and eighth century, part of another kingdom. What was the name of that kingdom?”

  “I have no thought as to the matter,” Xavier confessed at once, his own haste probably making his face redder yet. He sat back in his seat, fighting off a scowl.

  “I think I do,” Laura said, obviously still ill at ease in the common room, for she kept her voice low. “Mercy, or Mercury, or something like that.”

  “Close enough. It was Mercia. But, Laura, how did you know that?” her brother cried.

  “Well, Kenneth, you do go on forever about your studies. Despite my best efforts, I’m afraid some of it must lodge in my head occasionally,” she said crisply.

  Genevieve covered a little laugh by pretending to cough delicately. At least she’s laughing at someone other than me.

  “Then I shall continue to do so, for if some of my wonderful teachings have found their way into your un-studious head it proves there is hope for the larger efforts I make.”

  Laura made a face at him. “You shan’t have my kiss, of course. But don’t think you’ll ever be granted one from any of the ladies, for you are a pompous oaf, as they can now plainly see for themselves.”

  “And whom shall you kiss?” Summer asked, dimpling.

  Laura looked around the table, her eyes sliding over Haddy unflatteringly quickly. They lingered on Michael, but then transferred to Xavier.
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br />   “I say she’ll give a kiss to no one,” Penelope said, voice low. “She’s already been seen in a common room, but she’ll not allow herself to be seen kissing a gentlemen here as well.”

  Laura lifted an eyebrow at the taunt, and half turned to Penelope. “Haven’t I been hearing claims of how this is the ‘last trip of our youth’ and ‘something to remember in our old age’? Far be it from me to spoil that effect.” She rose and stepped around the table, stopping next to Xavier, where she bent and gave him a hasty kiss on the right cheek.

  Despite his fluster of a moment ago, it caused no flutter in his breast, no constriction of his air passages. It seemed he was developing a talent for receiving kisses from ladies.

  Laura returned to her chair, her face a bright red at her own daring.

  Haddy turned to Kenneth. “We must be toads. These fellows have had two kisses apiece, and here are we, still lacking any.”

  “I will bid you both a good night then, little toads,” Penelope said, pushing back her chair and rising to her feet. “I’m finally ready for slumber.” The other ladies rose as well.

  Good nights and sleep wells were exchanged, and Kenneth yawned as the ladies exited the room. “I’m for bed myself,” he declared. “I received far, far too much fresh air today.”

  The other three men exchanged amazed glances. “You sat in an inn while we bathed in rain and mud,” Michael protested.

  “After I drove the coach here,” Kenneth reminded them.

  Grumbling and laughing, the men made their way to their rooms.

  As Xavier crawled into bed, it was of Laura’s kiss that he thought. He noted again with some satisfaction his growing ability to allow such familiarities; perhaps this journey had been a fortunate exercise after all. Although he knew he couldn’t listen to the clarion call his heart insisted on trumpeting all-too frequently these few days past, for the first time he accepted that he could perhaps reach a smaller, less lofty goal. He dared to let himself think—not merely dream—how it might be that he could gain new kisses, not from Kenneth’s or Haddy’s sisters, but from one specific dark-haired, dark-eyed lady in particular.

  Chapter 13

  If we do not find anything pleasant, at least we shall find something new.

  —Voltaire,

  Candide

  Late the next afternoon, Genevieve turned from the impressively tall spire of St. Michael’s and said, “But we are not here to admire Coventry’s architecture. We’re here to solve a clue.”

  “It’s medieval, all this, you realize,” Kenneth said. “As is Holy Trinity, there. The priory was founded in 1043.” He took in the ancient structures before them. The sun had already chased yesterday’s last straggling clouds from the sky, and the day promised to be too warm once again, flooding the scene before them with a light so bright it made them squint as they took in the ancient grandeur before them.

  “It has a particularly splendid name, St. Michael’s,” Michael said.

  Genevieve shared a glance with Summer, the latter more amused than the former.

  Laura ignored it all, echoing Genevieve as she reached for her brother’s pocket. “Come along. Read Haddy and Laura their clue.”

  Kenneth laughed and dashed her hand away. “I shall, I shall.” He cleared his throat, laughing again when Laura put her hands on his arm and gave him a small shove in half-pretended irritation. “No note, I’ll recite it.” He cleared his throat. “‘Look for the house of the man who looked at Leofric’s lady-wife, known as Godgyfu.’”

  Haddy’s head slanted back on his shoulders and he made a gesture of surrender with his arms. “I give up. These things are far too obscure for me.”

  “Are they?” Kenneth grinned, indicating Xavier with a nod of his head. “Look, you can see that fellow knows.”

  Xavier made an exaggerated moue of innocence.

  “And he stands next to answer if you cannot,” Michael, their unofficial timekeeper, stated from where he gazed down on his pocketwatch. “Your team has nine and one half minutes remaining. Laura, have you a guess?”

  “That’s all we’re to know? Look for a house? It’s not much of a clue. It’s not even a nice little poem.”

  “Even so, the clue stands.” Kenneth rocked on his heels, awaiting their answer.

  “What house? That one?” Laura ventured unhopefully, pointing to the nearest residence.

  “That is your guess, and it’s wrong.” Kenneth grinned. “Forfeit.”

  The interest of the others quickened as Kenneth pulled the small bag of penalties from his left coat pocket.

  Laura shrugged apologetically at Haddy, and reached for the bag. “Oh dear,” she said after glancing at the slip of paper she drew. “‘The partners,’” she read, “’must sing two stanzas of any song of their choice in the High Street, during daylight hours.’” She looked up, aversion mixed with reluctant humor mingling on her face. “Oh, Kenneth, how simply dreadful.”

  “Yes, I thought so, too, at the time I wrote it. Well, well, well! It seems to me it’s daylight, and it seems to me we are very near Coventry’s High Street.”

  Laura shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair. By the time Haddy and I have done humiliating ourselves, Xavier and Summer will have had an inordinate amount of time to think over the clue.”

  “Too true. I suppose we must settle that business first. Which I believe we will do in short order, for we’ve seen Xavier already has the answer.” Kenneth turned to Xavier and prompted, “Well?”

  “Firstly, Laura,” Xavier explained, “you might have had a better chance if your brother had pronounced Leofric’s wife’s name in its more familiar form of ‘Godiva.’”

  “Oh!” Laura gave a little squeal of recognition, quickly followed by a black look for her brother.

  “But that’s not the question, is it?” Kenneth countered.

  “No. You asked us to locate the house of the man who looked at Lady Godiva.”

  “Peeping Tom!” Summer, Haddy, and Laura cried together.

  “Exactly,” Xavier said. “But where that structure resides is beyond me.” He offered his arm to Summer, “My Fair Summer Rose, methinks our ten minutes isn’t much in which to discover something that will point the way for us. Shall we begin?”

  Genevieve grinned, like everyone else, at Xavier’s show of gallantry…but she also didn’t miss Summer’s nod and bright smile up at him, nor how the pink bonnet ribbons tied in an artful bow to the right of the delicate girl’s chin brought out the color in her cheeks. Genevieve decided she’d be part of their search party, unasked, and by moving close her ears couldn’t fail to overhear their conversation as they walked.

  “I never really thanked you…for last night,” Summer was saying up to the dark head above her own. “Your coat. Sharing the lap robe. Everything.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Xavier said, then seemed to think better of the statement, smiling a little. “Well, a pleasure to be of assistance to such a charming lady, even if the circumstances themselves were not so very pleasant.”

  “It’s you who is the charmer, I think,” Summer shook her head, smiling along with him. “Did Mrs. Denny return your coat to you?”

  “She did, none the worse for wear.”

  Summer made a doubtful face, but she didn’t challenge the statement, since they all knew he would just deny it. That was Xavier, a charmer indeed, Genevieve thought as the others straggled behind. All except Michael.

  “You frown, Genny,” he said as he came up to her side.

  “No, I don’t,” she said, forcing her brow to smooth and her mouth to come up to an even line.

  “Hmm,” he replied noncommittally as they walked along the cobblestones.

  “It’s you who ought to frown,” Genevieve countered. She kept her words low.

  “How so?”

  She wished she’d bitten her tongue rather than speak, for now she was forced to explain. “Summer,” she said uncertainly. “And Xavier…?”

  Michael raised his
eyes from the road. “What of them?”

  “Honestly, Michael,” she said in sudden exasperation brought on by his untroubled question. “Can you not have noted they’ve become most friendly? Does it not concern you just the tiniest that they may be growing, well, too friendly?”

  Michael looked startled for a moment, and considered for several longer ones. He studied Summer’s back, then Xavier’s, as the two walked not far ahead of brother and sister—but then he waved a hand and shook his head dismissively.

  “As to that sort of thing, Summer is a very affectionate individual. She cannot help herself in that regard. She told me once that her father and the countess were particularly close. She rather hopes to emulate them in that regard, and so she is used to bestowing affection wherever it suits her to do so. I accept that fact. It is, in truth, one of the things that makes her so very well-loved.” He took her arm, moving Genevieve to his other side, for a carriage was approaching and might splash last night’s standing water. Genevieve took advantage of the moment to put her hand on his arm and hold him back from the other couple.

  “Michael, I know you’re not truly this obtuse. I’m trying to point out to you that if you cannot show the girl more affection yourself, she may seek it elsewhere,” she said in an even quieter voice.

  “With Xavier?” he said, his tone reflecting the fact he was surprised at the notion. “Nooo,” he drew out the word, then repeated it more firmly. “No.” Now he nearly laughed. “You peagoose. No wonder you were frowning. No, Summer adores me. I have no concerns in that quarter.”

  “Well, I have. You’ve been affianced for nearly a year and a half now, Michael. No girl will wait forever.”

  “Nor will she. I’ll marry her one day,” he replied blithely.

  “You’re steering toward trouble,” Genevieve warned, her voice going ominous.

  “Enough, Genny! Don’t fret yourself.” Now Michael did laugh, taking long strides of a sudden that carried him from his sister’s side. He turned, walking backward long enough to call, “See, I go to flirt with my dear betrothed even now. Only see which gentlemen she prefers.”