Treasured

by Candace Camp

  Elizabeth nodded. “If there truly was a tunnel to the caves from the castle, digging one from here to the castle would mean one could go all the way to the sea without outside notice.”

  “I fear it is too dangerous to search the castle ruins.” Isobel sighed. “No doubt it was fine when this house was built, and even in our grandfather’s day it was probably safe enough. But it has deteriorated a great deal in the last sixty years.”

  “That’s true.” Elizabeth frowned. “There was another cave-in there when you and Andrew were children.”

  “It might be possible to climb down on ropes,” Jack mused.

  “There would still be the danger of it collapsing on top of you,” Isobel pointed out. “Please, Jack, promise me you will not try that.”

  “I won’t. I’ve more fondness for my skin than that. But if we were to shore it up, it might be possible to search there in the future.”

  “In the meantime,” Isobel put in, “I think the best place to search may be the attic.” At the others’ puzzled looks, she went on, “When I was cleaning the attic, a number of the chests had papers in them as well as possessions—letters and lists and documents. Cousin Robert took a few chests and I got rid of a fair bit of clothing and such, but most of the papers I just stacked together. Also, there is a good portion of the attic that I never even touched. There might be original plans for this house that show the tunnel. Or letters, instructions, a will. Obviously knowledge must have been passed down in some fashion if our grandfather was using the passageway. If he had lived, he probably would have told my father.” She turned to Elizabeth. “Do you think Papa knew of its existence?”

  “I don’t think so.” Elizabeth shook her head. “He never said anything to me, and you know your father was not a secretive man. I know my memory is not always certain, but I cannot believe I could have forgotten it if your father told me about a tunnel. Nor did Mother speak of it; it would not surprise me if she didn’t know. The Roses tended to be a secretive lot. My grandfather was said to be very tight-lipped about anything concerning the family. This could have been something they would not let slip to anyone but the heir. Even spouses could have been excluded.”

  For the next few days, all four of them spent much of their time searching through the accumulated papers of the Rose family. Isobel had the servants bring down the chests of papers she had set aside when she was cleaning the attic, and Elizabeth and Millicent began to sort through them while Isobel and Jack started with the papers stored in the household strongbox, then moved on to the records in the office.

  When nothing of any use turned up, they returned to the area of the attic that Isobel had not yet cleaned. Isobel stumbled upon a trunk containing a number of things belonging to her father, among them some childish notes written by her and her brother that made her eyes mist a bit with sentiment, and she set the chest aside to go through at a more leisurely pace.

  After a week of such efforts proved futile, Isobel’s aunt and Millicent returned to their needlework and conversation, and Jack was speaking of taking up his daily rides again. Even Isobel’s interest began to flag.

  Andrew returned from town, declaring that it was simply too boring to continue living in Cousin Robert’s house. Isobel realized, with a pang of regret, that she felt more apprehension than happiness at her brother’s homecoming. He was, predictably, thrilled at the notion of the tunnel and insisted on trying out the secret stairs and exploring the underground passage.

  Looking at her brother’s eager face, hearing his easy laugh and droll depiction of the misadventures he and Gregory had experienced in their search for the treasure, Isobel told herself that her suspicions must be wrong. Still, she could not help but hope that Andrew would soon grow bored and head back to London.

  The morning after Andrew returned to Baillannan, Jack sent a servant to his room asking Andrew to join him in the office. Predictably, it was almost an hour before Andrew strolled in. He flopped down carelessly in a chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, ankles crossed, the very picture of unconcern. Jack felt an urge to grab the young man by the collar and jerk him upright, but he refrained. He sat down across from the young man and regarded him steadily for a long moment.

  “I assume you must have had some reason for sending for me,” Andrew said finally, shifting in his chair. “It’s like being called down by the headmaster.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “No. I suppose you would not.” The ghost of a smirk touched the corner of Andrew’s mouth.

  “It is time you returned to London,” Jack said without preamble.

  “London!” Andrew jerked upright.

  “Or Edinburgh. Wherever you prefer. As long as it is not here.”

  “You are tossing me out of my own home?” Andrew surged to his feet.

  “My home, Andrew. I believe we have discussed this before.”

  “I grew up here! I belong here!”

  “Yes, yes, I know. And I am an interloper.”

  Andrew clenched his fists, his face flooding with color, but Jack merely cast a sardonic look at his doubled-up hands.

  “Really, Andrew? Do you want a dustup?”

  Andrew glared at him, jaw set, then stepped back, opening his hands. He gave a half shrug. “Of course not. I don’t engage in street fighting.”

  “Naturally.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Andrew moved restlessly around the room. “If you are still on about that little mistake I made regarding Mrs. Kensington, I can assure you it will not happen again. I had no idea it would prove to be such a contretemps.”

  “No. This is not about my mother or your attempt to embarrass us. It is about your sister.”

  “Isobel!” Andrew looked at him sharply. “You’re never telling me Isobel wishes me to leave.”

  “Surely you know her better than that. She loves you, and she feels that she has failed you, given the man you have turned out to be.” Andrew’s eyes flashed, but he said nothing, and Jack went on in the same cool, inflexible voice. “Perhaps your hope that evening was to show Isobel what a mistake she had made in marrying me. Or perhaps you did not think at all about the effect it would have on your sister; that would be typical of you. But the fact remains that you caused her a great deal of distress.”

  “Why should Isobel be distressed because your mother cannot hold her liquor?”

  “Your pettiness shamed her. You embarrassed a guest in her house, and she feels responsible. It is a harsh blow to someone who loves as deeply as Isobel to find that the person she loves is not worthy of it.”

  “As if you are!”

  “I don’t claim to be worthy of Isobel. I am, however, able to protect her. And that is what I am doing.”

  “She doesn’t need to be protected from me. I would never hurt Izzy.”

  “No? You already have many times over. Do you think it did not cause her pain to see you waste your life drinking and gambling? That it did not hurt when you were too busy carousing in London to come home to visit the women who loved you? You did not spare a single thought for them when you threw away their home!”

  “Isobel managed to keep Baillannan, didn’t she?” Andrew said sulkily, turning away.

  “By offering herself to a stranger! Good God, man, your selfishness is beyond belief. You have been blessed with everything a man could wish for, not least a family who loved you and raised you with tenderness and care. And you threw it away.” Jack stopped, drawing a deep breath. “I saw Isobel when you returned to Baillannan yesterday. She looked at you, not with joy, but with worry and unease. I understand that you dislike me, and frankly I don’t care. But when you attack me in whatever juvenile way you concoct, it wounds Isobel. I refuse to allow you to do that.”

  “So you are her great protector,” Andrew sneered. “Her knight in shining armor.”

  “I am her husband.” Jack’s voice was cold and filled with finality.

  “Does Isobel know about this? Is she aware that you are
throwing her flesh and blood out of his home?”

  “No. And she will not know. You will not tell her.” Jack came forward, looming over Andrew. “I do not wish Isobel to be distressed. You will tell her you have decided to return to London. She will not be surprised. Take a few days playing at finding your treasure if you wish. But within a week, I want you gone.”

  “How am I supposed to live?”

  “I understand that you still hold a fund whose income should be enough to sustain you.”

  “A pittance.”

  “As long as you do not lose your principal, it will be quite adequate. In addition, I will see to it that you receive a monthly stipend.” Jack held up a warning finger. “That stipend will stop the instant you write to Isobel, begging her for money or describing your woes. It will stop if you go to her whining that I have tossed you out. You will visit Baillannan once a year—two if you choose—to visit your aunt and sister. If you do not, that will stop the money as well.”

  “I am sure Isobel would be pleased to know you are managing her life for her.”

  “Isobel is well capable of managing her own life and most of ours as well, and I am sure she will continue to do so. But I intend to make sure that she is not made unhappy over you. I will not let you place her in a position where she is torn between her brother and her husband. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do. I’m not dim.”

  “And do you agree to my conditions?”

  “Yes, damn you. Yes.” Andrew whirled away. He stalked to the door, then turned his head back to look at Jack. “Cousin Robert was right about you.”

  “Mm. No doubt he was right about you as well.” Jack watched coolly as Andrew stomped out the door.

  Jack dismounted and tossed the reins to a groom. Andrew’s return to the house had spurred him to resume his rides. Isobel had, predictably, fussed, but even she had to agree that he could not live his entire life without venturing outside. He had ridden out for the first time today, and he had felt exposed, like a bug on a stone wall, uneasily aware of the hills and rocks around him, where any number of attackers could be hiding. He had made himself keep to a canter, neither glancing over his shoulder or shortening the length of his ride. He was determined to make it clear that he was not a man to be frightened away.

  Still, he admitted, at least to himself, that he let out a sigh of relief when Pharaoh trotted back into the stable yard. Jack went inside, where he was disappointed to find that Isobel was not at home, and neither his mother nor Elizabeth had any idea where she had gone. He wriggled out of an invitation to sit and converse with them, instead making his way to the office.

  It was foolish, he told himself, to feel vaguely aggrieved that Isobel had gone off without him. After all, it was not as if she had to live in his pocket all the time. They were adults; they had separate lives. That they had been in each other’s company almost constantly the last couple of weeks did not mean they would continue to do so. Still, he could not help but wonder where she had gone and why she had taken off the first moment he’d left the house.

  When he stepped inside the study, he saw the folded, sealed piece of paper on the desk, his name printed in large letters across the front. Curious, he slipped his finger beneath the seal, breaking it, and unfolded the note. There in Isobel’s elegant hand was written:

  Dear Jack,

  I have gone to the castle. I await your arrival. Pray do not tarry. I can say no more, but I think you will not be displeased.

  All my love,

  Isobel

  He read the missive again, a faint smile hovering on his lips, and his thumb ran over her closing words: “All my love.” She had never said such a thing to him before, had she? What could she have arranged at the castle? He spent a pleasant moment envisioning the surprise; then, tucking the note into his pocket, he started out the door.

  Hamish was lurking about, as he always seemed to be these days. “Coat, sir?”

  “I think not. It’s too fine a day.”

  “Indeed. And where might you be going on such a lovely day?”

  “You have become oddly curious about my habits.” Jack gave him a quizzical look.

  “Sir.” Hamish stiffened. “I thought Mrs. Kensington might inquire of me about your whereabouts. Of course, if you do not wish me to know . . .”

  “No, no. No need to prune up on me.” As little as Hamish seemed a butler in other ways, he possessed a butler’s unerring ability to convey wounded feelings. “Should my mother ask, tell her that I have gone to the castle to meet the other Mrs. Kensington.”

  “Ah, Miss Isobel.” The butler’s face cleared. “Very good, sir.”

  Jack strode along the path to the castle, his steps quickening as he neared it. Isobel had spoken of taking a cold lunch to the castle one day, and he pictured her now, spreading out a blanket to arrange a picnic. He smiled, thinking that he could come up with more entertaining uses for a blanket.

  The path emerged from the trees, and ahead of him the remaining walls and columns rose from the ground like old, bleached bones. He stopped, glancing around in bafflement. There was no sign of either blanket or Isobel. The place appeared quite deserted.

  He strolled forward at a slower pace until he reached the edge of the foundation. He turned to look out across the green expanse of grass where the castle floor had collapsed. Rubble filled one end, timbers sticking out into empty space. A beam stretched out over the hole, and at the splintered end of it, a patch of color fluttered. Jack strode forward, fear suddenly clutching at his vitals.

  He had wanted to go explore the ruins, even talked of climbing down into the cellars. Surely the surprise Isobel had mentioned would not be such an expedition. She could not have ventured—

  His thoughts broke off as the colorful scrap resolved into a recognizable object—Isobel’s light-red shawl was caught on the edge of the ruins.

  “Isobel!”

  He charged forward, his heart thundering in panic, and threw himself down at the edge of the gaping hole. He peered over the edge, relief flooding him when he saw no sign of Isobel in the rubble beneath him. In that moment he felt the ground beneath him shift, the edge crumbling away beneath his hands.

  Frantically, he twisted around, grabbing for purchase and encountering nothing but slippery grass and stone slick with lichen. With a loud groan and crack, a timber gave way beneath him, and he felt himself slipping inevitably down. His grasping fingers found the timber as he fell, and for a moment he swung there, pain throbbing through his shoulder.

  Trap! It had been a trap. Then, as his fingers slipped down the rough wood, sliced by splinters, and he fell into emptiness, the full reality of the betrayal shot through him. Isobel had lured him to his death.

  Isobel returned from Meg’s, her heart light in her chest. Jack had returned from his ride unscathed; Coll had met her as she walked up from the loch and reported that he had seen nothing unusual in his long-distance surveillance of Jack’s ride.

  “Miss Isobel!” Hamish appeared at the end of the hall. “Are ye back already, then?”

  “Yes. Meg sent Aunt Elizabeth more tonic.” Divesting herself of her bonnet and gloves, Isobel extended the bottle to him. “Put it in the stillroom for me, would you?”

  “Meg? No, I meant the castle. Are ye back from the castle?”

  “The castle!” Isobel smiled. “No. Why would you think that?” She turned away. “Where is Jack?”

  “At the castle, miss.” Hamish stared at her in confusion. “He’s gone to meet you.”

  “What? Why would he— Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” Hamish scowled. “It was himself who told me. I asked where he was going when he started out the door, just like you told me, and he said he was going to meet you at the castle, if his ma should ask.”

  “Did you send a servant to follow him?” Isobel’s voice rose.

  “No, miss. He was going to meet you. I thought there was no need.”

  Terror speared thro
ugh her, and Isobel whipped around, calling over her shoulder, “Send for Coll. Immediately! Tell him to come to the castle.”

  Not waiting for the butler’s response, she ran out the door and down the path. At the castle she was met with a silent, empty tableau. Sucking in air, trembling all over from exertion and fear, she turned this way and that, looking for Jack. He was nowhere to be seen. Shadows from the tall trees were already stretching across the ground. It would be dusk before long. She wished she had thought to bring a lantern with her.

  Her breath stopped when she caught sight of her shawl draped over one of the broken timbers, and for an instant she could not move.

  “Jack!” Her voice came out as a croak, and she tried again, shouting as she ran toward the gaily fluttering shawl, “Jack! Are you here? Jack!”

  Tears were streaming down her face by the time she reached the edge of the hole. The yawning pit was larger than before; clearly another section had fallen in. “Jack! Where are you? Please, please, answer me.” Tears choked her voice, and she could not hold back the sobs as she sank to her knees, edging forward to peer over the edge. “Jack!”

  “Isobel?” A figure stepped into view, covered with dirt and stone dust, and Jack turned his face up to her.

  “Jack!” She began to laugh and cry all at once. “Thank God! Oh, thank God. Jack.” Her hand slipped, and suddenly the ground before her crumbled. She plunged downward.

  “Isobel!” Jack lunged forward, arms outstretched, and Isobel slammed into him, knocking him over and sending them both to the ground. His breath went out of him with an oomph, and for a moment they lay there, stunned, struggling for air.

  Isobel was the first to move, pushing up to her knees. “What are you doing here? Why did you come to the castle—why are you grinning at me like that?”

  “From relief.” He laughed, sitting up and pulling her into his arms, squeezing her to him so tightly she could hardly breathe. “I thought— God, Isobel, I thought you wanted me dead.”

  “What!” She jerked back from him, her face flaming with fury. Sweeping the tears from her cheeks, she exploded, “Here I am, thinking you were dead—and you assume I tried to kill you! How could you think such a thing of me? Do you think I shot you as well?”