by Abigail Agar
The guests were in no hurry to rise in the morning, so most activities Silas planned took place in the early afternoon. The Earl of Chadwick and the Viscount of Tisbury both commended Silas on his talents. It was nice to hear. Silas was inwardly commending himself on his talents every day.
The boats were on the lake, waiting for occupants. The ladies and gentlemen chose to take separate boats. Thank God, the weather cooperated this day. Eight guests sat in each boat while a footman rowed them around the lake, not too far from the shore. The boats seemed to become gossip chambers. Lady Dolly started it all. “Has anyone here heard what Lady Elizabeth said about the Duke and the family falling out he experienced? I just can’t believe it. Maybe I misunderstood?”
“I know,” said Lady Celeste. “Lady Elizabeth is a relative, but I would believe the Duke over her. She said he was involved in illegal smuggling and fled the country. He did go to India. There must be a reason for that. Lady Elizabeth departed shortly after she got here. There is some story there, mark my words.”
“Well, I agree with Lady Celeste,” Charlotte said. “Did you meet her? I would definitely believe the Duke over her. Who could possibly believe that woman? It couldn’t possibly be true that Phineas behaved in such a way. Why would anyone want to say these things?”
“Then why did he go to India? Why was the estate penniless? Why did his father disown him?”
“Ladies. If you want to know the answers, ask the Duke. He’ll tell you. Don’t think the worst of him because some cousin sashays in here in wild dresses. She may have an ax to grind,” Genevieve spoke, disgusted with them all.
After dinner, when the guests usually went to the parlour, they went instead to the music room. Seats were set up in front of the pianoforte and harp.
Silas walked to the front of the room. The audience by this time knew if Silas talked, he had something fun worth listening to. “You may recall we asked all guests with a talent for music – which leaves out my brother Phin – if they would like to perform.
“We are fortunate to have three ladies willing to share their talents with us all. Please welcome Lady Kate Watkins on the pianoforte, Lady Alison Kent on the harp, and Lady Alice Dove who will sing for us. Ladies?”
The guests welcomed the girls with muted claps. Once the music began, guests started whispered conversations. There was an undercurrent of murmuring to the musical performance taking place.
“There seems to be a lot of talk about it; can it possibly be true? After all, he just got back from India after five years. Nobody is acquainted with him. Who can speak for him?” Lady May whispered.
“Everett has known him all his life and was in constant contact with him while he was in India. Apparently, Phin paid down a large loan run up by his father. If that’s the case, his banker could also vouch for him,” Lady Genevieve said.
“Well there must have been a big loan. I heard the rumours a few years ago, that Bennett, His Grace’s father, was selling off his possessions. If that isn’t penniless, I don’t know what is,” Lady Mary said.
“Apparently, the falling out was well known in London back when Bennett was alive.”
No matter the activity, lawn games, boat ride, musical performances or ride into town, the subject of Phin’s past always came up. Charlotte thought if someone could provide evidence the rumours were wrong, partygoers would welcome the information with open arms. If somehow Phineas could hear these ugly rumours and refute them. They wanted to believe the best. She wanted to believe the best.
But they were living in a bubble being at Collinswood. Maybe in London, where more information was surely available, these rumours could be refuted. Maybe, they should all wait and see. They would be back in London shortly.
***
Bernard followed Elizabeth into her parlour. “Merritt told me you were in London. How was Phin’s house party?”
“I was thrown out for spreading rumours. But I got a couple of good days in before I left.” She shrugged. “No doubt they are all talking about it, speculating about it right now.”
She looked up at Bernard. “You look happy.”
“The mate will forgo my loan and pay back.”
“What’s the catch?” Elizabeth asked, eyes no more than slits.
“French brandy.”
Elizabeth sat down on her couch with an unladylike flop. “Oh, no. Those days are just as dead as Bennett Collins is. We used his signature and his seal on those documents. He was at the docks when the shipment came in,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head repeatedly.
“Elizabeth, they just need some document to go back to France with. Who cares if the guy is dead?”
“What about you? You’re the Baron of Warwick. Use your signature and seal on the document. The smugglers will accept it.”
“The mate won’t. If this operation leads back to me, it might put him at risk. Look, Elizabeth, I’m in waist deep here. You’ve got to help me.”
“He’ll really walk away if you do this?”
“Yes. No more alone.”
“Will he come back wanting more? Bennett smuggled French brandy three years ago. The Napoleonic war isn’t going to end soon. What’s to say he won’t come back? If he needs a gentleman’s documents now, he’ll need them in the future.”
“I don’t think I have any choice,” Bernard said, his shoulders drooping.
Elizabeth shook her head again. “I can’t get near Bennett’s papers. Phin lives in the townhouse now. When Bennett was alive, I went into his study. I put together whatever they were looking for, Bennett signed it, and I put his seal on it.
“Phin and I have already had a run-in. He won’t let me near his townhouse. He would probably think I’m there to steal something. And his butler? He’s loyal.”
Bernard paced. “You once told me you kept blank documents with his signature on them in case you needed something. Do you have them here?”
“I have one left. I was saving it for something special,” Elizabeth said.
“Look, Elizabeth. I’ll pay you for it.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You have no money Bernard, that’s why you’re in this predicament.” She tilted her head. “Why don’t you just forge someone real or made up? Why would you want to spend money on a real signature?”
He looked at Elizabeth. “They have Bennett’s signature from before. They aren’t going to risk things on their end for a forged signature.”
“Tell me again, why do you need documentation?”
“Because the French government will hang them if they are caught smuggling. They assume they’re smuggling if they don’t have the papers.”
“Well, I’d like to help you out, Bernard. But I think I’ll save my last document. I may need it one of these days.”
“You’re going to leave me hanging?” Bernard understood her position, wanting to hold onto it for a rainy day, but she had no idea of his position. The mate was forcing his hand with this smuggling operation. He had to make it work.
“Talk to Merritt. He’ll help you out,” she said.
“Why don’t you talk to him for me?”
“Look, Bernard. Merritt and I have a great understanding that works well for both of us. I’m not going to get in the middle of this. You work it out.” Merritt didn’t know it nor would he ever know it, but Elizabeth loved him. She almost wanted to laugh. She was his mistress, and she was in love with him. How pathetic. He could marry her because she came from nobility, but he would opt for a large dowry instead and keep her on the side. She’d take it. It was better than nothing.
Chapter 11
That night, the dinner table was buzzing with anticipation over the scavenger hunt. While gathered in the parlour before dinner, Silas had gone over the rules for the hunt. The first group back after having found all the clues would win the prize. Silas told them the prize would be an old dented trophy from his childhood. He might have been wrong, but Silas thought it made the teams want the prize even more.
The trophy sat
proudly on a stand in the middle of the entry hall. It really was sad looking.
Dessert was served; Silas rose from his chair and pinged the water glass with his knife. Everyone came to attention.
“Please continue to eat your dessert. You will need every bit of energy you can muster.” Silas paused at the soft laughter coming from the diners. God, how he loved doing this.
“Aunt Genevieve has declined to play – obviously the smart one in the group – and Lord Hill’s knee injury will keep him on the sidelines. For the rest of you, I have put your names into a bowl. A boy bowl and a girl bowl.” Silas held up each bowl one at a time.
“I will make a team by selecting a name from each bowl.” Silas held up a folded piece of paper. “No one will know their partner until I read the names chosen.”
Charlotte smiled. Once again, she thought she should be attracted to Silas, but she was not. Entertaining, tall, handsome, funny. Someone like that. That was always who she thought she would end up marrying. She shook her head. So much for mapping out your future, Charlotte.
After more theatrics on Silas’ part and the making of the teams, dessert and coffee were over. Instead of returning to the parlour, the guests met Silas at the entry Hall. Phin had miraculously been paired with Charlotte. They stood together as did the other teams.
“Your first clue is on this paper.” Silas held up several small pieces of paper. “I will give you this clue; it will lead you to another clue, and so on until you make it back here. The first team to touch the trophy wins. Keep all your clue papers. That will ensure that no one skips steps and cheats.” He breathed deep. “Any questions? No? On your mark, get set, come for your first clue.”
They all flooded Silas, grabbing at the clue sheets he held. He passed them out, moving his hand out of the way as if a crocodile was snapping at it. Then they ran off.
“You don’t get to play, My Lord.”
Silas turned to see Aunt Genevieve standing there. “I have far more fun making the clues and hiding them than by actually going out.” He smiled broadly.
“How did you manoeuvre your brother to be with my niece?”
“Ah, that was easy. A small red dot on each paper did the trick rather easily. Did it look rigged?”
“No, that’s why I wanted to know your trick. Come, sit with an old woman while I take some tea.”
“I will as long as you stop telling me you’re old.”
The couples ran out of the front door and read their first clue from the dim moonlight.
Charlotte and Phin read theirs. ‘Hidden in the well wall, three bricks across and four stones down.’
Phin looked up at Charlotte, “I guess we’re supposed to head for the well.” Charlotte nodded and smiled. She’d had that look on her face since the moment she was handed out of the carriage. The happier she was, the more pleased Silas should be, and the more despondent Phin became. This house party was a once in a year event, if that. Two weeks out of the year. Lots of boring time in-between. Almost at the well, Phin decided he would dwell on that later.
“Remind me, Charlotte. Three across . . .”
Charlotte read the paper again. “Three bricks across and four stones down. The bricks must be on top?”
“Yes, but how do we know where to start counting?”
“What’s this thing?” she asked, pointing to an iron rod that held the rope in place.
Phin started at the iron rod, counted three bricks over, and counted four stones straight down. When he touched the fourth stone, he could hear the scrape of stone against stone.
“I think we found it,” he said, pointing to the loose stone. “If you would do the honours?”
Charlotte pushed at the stone, but it only moved a half inch. Phin looked around on the ground for anything metal or flat to pry the stone out. Silas must’ve left a metal rod just for that purpose. Without searching too long, he saw it.
Charlotte pulled out the stone, and the piece of paper behind it said one word: archery. Phin laughed. Silas was not one to compose poems for clues.
In her anticipation, Charlotte grabbed Phin by the hand and pulled him along. He was not as eager a participant as she was.
Earlier in the day, some guests were shooting arrows at six colourful targets lined in a row. They rested on tripods, so they were easily moved. The bows and arrows were brought inside in case of rain, but the targets still stood like silent soldiers waiting for their command.
“I suppose we have to inspect around the targets for the next clue.”
Charlotte giggled. “No need,” she said, running to the third target down. An arrow shot through a piece of paper stuck to the target.
“Do we rip it off?” Phin said.
“I’ll do it,” Charlotte volunteered.
‘Garden stone bench.’
“Well, this one looks easy enough,” Charlotte said.
“Ah, those are the hard ones.” Phin smiled.
Phin took Charlotte’s hand while he walked at a leisurely pace. “Hurry, Charlotte. We need to go to the next clue,” he said, grinning.
“Ha. Ha. I’ll walk at your pace, Phin. But know this – I really wanted that trophy.”
“I’ll find you one even more pathetic trophy. Will that do?”
“Yes, I believe it will.”
When they reached the garden bench, the paper clue was sticking out between two slabs of granite. They sat on the bench and read the clue. Both of them meant to stand up and be on their way, but neither did.
Phin took her hand between his and looked at her. “Do you feel it, Charlotte? When I touch you, I feel this slow, pleasant vibration. It is at once relaxing and exciting. I have felt it with you from our first touch. I never felt it with anyone else before.”
And he thought, he never wanted to feel it with anyone but Charlotte, ever. His body hummed when he was around her. It woke him up and poked at him, saying, ‘She’s here, she’s here, pay attention.’
Charlotte was silent for a minute. “I feel the comfort of my hand in yours. I have to confess, I have no experience to compare your touch to.” She shrugged sheepishly and looked down.
“Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
“May I kiss you?”
Charlotte lost her voice and could only nod. Phin leaned in and gave her a feather soft kiss on her lips then backed away. When he looked into her eyes, Phin saw a look that seemed to be giving him permission to kiss her again.
Slowly, his lips approached hers, and he put light pressure on her mouth, making her want to tilt her head to gain the maximum benefit. Phin guided her in the kiss and then pulled away again. “Thank you. I wanted to know how you tasted. It was as delicious as I thought it would be.” He ran the back of his index finger down her impossibly soft cheek.
Phin sighed. Nothing could be better than what they just experienced. “Let’s get back to the castle. I’ve run out of steam on this scavenger hunt.”
He laced his fingers through hers, and they walked hand-in-hand the whole way back. Phin thought Charlotte looked very pleased with herself. He knew it was her first kiss. During the whole way back, she was practically bursting but was trying to act composed. She made him smile. “Don’t forget,” Charlotte said, “I’m waiting for the saddest excuse for a trophy you can find.”
An hour later, Mercy and Everett came running into the castle to claim the trophy. Silas looked at the clues before officially naming them the winners.
Other teams came trickling in so that an hour and twenty minutes later, there were only two teams missing. Lord Burberry, a notorious rake, and Lady Ann as well as Phin and Charlotte.
Phin and Charlotte strolled in and went into the parlour without checking in with Silas. He came after them in a fit.
His hands on his hips, Silas said, “You need to check in with me at the end of the hunt.” He thrust out his hand. “Show me your clues.”
Phin put the clues in Silas’ hand. Silas nodded and began to move away. He stopped short. “W
here are the rest of your clues?”
“We didn’t get any others.”
Through gritted teeth, Silas said, “Phin, you skipped clues?”
Phin looked at Charlotte and shrugged. He turned to Silas, “I suppose we did.”
Silas sputtered something about how the game was played and following the rules. He threw up his hand, letting the clues fly all around him.
Loud gasping for breath drew everyone’s attention to Mercy. She was laughing so hard, she could no longer breathe.