Susannah clapped her hands together. “Yes! That is what we are looking for! Great news for only the first hour.” She noted the empty drinking glass on the bedside table. “Let me refill this for you so that we can keep it up.” She walked over to the bureau to fill the glass from the pitcher sitting there.
“Did you find your mother’s notes? Is there anything else we are to do?”
Susannah nodded and indicated the journal. “Yes, I found them. And yes, there are a few more things. I have no idea why, but my mother recommends having cucumber sandwiches for luncheon each day.” She grinned. “As an accompaniment to your meat, of course.” She handed Letitia the glass and took a seat beside the bed.
Letitia raised her eyebrows, considering. “Hmm, that does seem an odd requirement. Rather like a ritual one would use for good luck. But I have no aversion to cucumber sandwiches, so I suppose it won’t hurt anything to try it for a week. What else did you find?”
This next one was a bit trickier. “Well, have you ever done any sea bathing?”
This brought a chuckle. “One can hardly grow up this close to the sea without doing it once in a while. Though certainly not since I’ve been out of the schoolroom. Happy memories, though. Why?”
“According to my mother’s journals, she heard many reports of sea bathing healing your condition. We were too far from the sea, so she never witnessed it herself. But perhaps since we are so near, it would be wise to try it?”
Letitia’s lips twitched in merriment. “I confess I like to be given a reason to do it again. And what of you, Susannah? Have you ever been sea bathing?”
“No, I have not. The church is the closest I’ve ever been to the sea.”
“Then we shall go together! Sea bathing is much more entertaining with a friend. And it will be doubly so with a friend who is experiencing it for the first time. Will you join me?”
Susannah was surprised at the offer. She had never considered sea bathing for herself. But she would be happy to keep Letitia company, and the idea sounded amusing. “I will. If you’ll teach me what to do.”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise!” In her excitement at the prospect of sea bathing, Letitia had sat forward. Now she settled back against the pillows. “Susannah, you are indeed an answer to prayer.”
Susannah felt the color creeping over her face. She had long since given up on God, and it was uncomfortable to think Letitia thought He might be using her. If Letitia knew what kind of woman Susannah really was, she would know He would never choose her to be His instrument. She opened her mouth to say so, but was prevented from doing so by the entrance of Mr. Daventry.
He must have stopped to visit Mr. Robinson before coming here. She hadn’t been this far ahead of him.
Letitia, at least, was pleased to see him. “Nick! Come in. Come in and join us! Susannah is keeping me company, and we have the best adventure planned. We are to go sea bathing!”
He came in, scooting a chair closer to the bed. He had already shot Susannah one dark look upon finding her there, and the mention of sea bathing brought another one her way.
“Sea bathing? Are you sure that is wise? It hardly seems the thing for a lady. Especially one…” Words failed him, and he simply gestured toward Letitia’s torso.
Fortunately for him, Letitia did not find this offensive. She laughed. “Actually, Susannah’s mother, who was a very accomplished amateur midwife, says otherwise. She says the seawater may make the swelling stop.”
Nick’s mouth made a grim line. He glanced at Susannah, then back to his friend. “I have already heard much this morning about Mrs. Stanhope’s mother. Yet I am not certain it is wise to take the counsel of an amateur midwife. Particularly one who is not herself available for consult.”
Letitia shrugged. “There is no other midwife. I can only conclude that God brought Susannah to me. I have but two choices, Nick. I can sit here and wait to see if I die, or I can follow the advice of my friend and see if it helps. And have fun doing it, it seems.”
Nick had no response to this, and Susannah rather enjoyed watching the discomfort on his face at his friend’s words. He seemed to be looking for words to contradict Letitia’s plain speaking, but Letitia reached out and grabbed Nick’s hand. Her face was serious now. “Nick. Listen to me. Do you know how long I’ve been married?”
He shifted in his chair. “Yes, of course. You were married the year that Gabriel was born. Five years.”
Letitia nodded. “Five years. In that time, there have been five lost babes. Five babes that I have never held.” Her eyes shifted to Susannah’s face, then back to Nick’s. “I know it isn’t ladylike to speak of such things, but you are like a brother to me. I need you to know that I will do anything to hold this babe. If God has sent me a gift, I will take it. And if I am wrong, if Susannah is wrong…” She broke off, emotion choking her. She closed her eyes, then let a slow smile spread over her face. She opened her eyes, still smiling. “If I am wrong to try, the result won’t be any worse for having tried.”
Nick simply stared at his friend, clearly as shocked by her words as Susannah was. After a moment, he broke his gaze away and looked to the floor. Then his eyes met Susannah’s, and for the first time since he entered the room, there was no malice in them. Only pleading.
He looked back at Letitia and smiled sadly back at her. “Then I suppose I can’t wait to hear about your sea-bathing adventure.”
Letitia almost squealed with delight, her pleasure at having won his blessing obvious. Susannah dug around in her reticule, searching for her embroidery project to distract her, embarrassed by the intimate conversation she had heard, her heart breaking for Letitia and the babies she never birthed. Embarrassed that she had presented herself as one who could help, though she herself had experienced nothing of the pain this woman had been through. And so embarrassed that she hadn’t been able to correct Letitia’s belief that she herself was an answer to prayer. At least Nick knew better. He could have a good laugh over the idea.
Maybe his laughter would hold back her own tears.
Chapter 13
Letitia had always been that way. One moment Nick was scolding her, in prime older-brother fashion—and yes, he knew he wasn’t actually her older brother, but in the absence of him, Nick would do in a pinch—and then the next, she had turned the tables with her direct, painfully honest way of speaking, and he was left with nothing to do but whatever it was she suggested.
It would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing.
So it seemed Mrs. Stanhope would have her way after all. He threw a glare at her. Look at her, sitting over there, blandly embroidering, as though his friend hadn’t just ripped open her own heart and shared it with the room. Stitching along as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
He had no clue what Letitia found so appealing about the woman. If Letitia had been a man, he would have understood. Mrs. Stanhope’s honey-colored hair and blue eyes were the kind of things many men found appealing. There was a certain curve to her lip when she smiled that invited thoughts of kissing. To many men. Certainly not to him. He would never kiss a snake.
But Letitia was not a man, so he didn’t understand.
He wondered about Mr. Robinson, whether the reason the old man was allowing this woman, this interloper, to lead his daughter astray was because of the woman’s…well, womanly appeal. He liked to think not, but he couldn’t be sure.
He had visited the vicar before coming to Letitia. He had found the old man in prayer. He expected to find concern, but instead, Mr. Robinson had practically leapt up from his knees to tell him all about how wonderful it was that Mrs. Stanhope had come to them. That she could save Letitia and that she was an answer to prayer.
And then Letitia had said the same thing.
Vile woman. She certainly wasn’t the answer to his prayers.
But now Letitia was asking about the treasure hunt. His eyes flew over to the corner where Mrs. Stanhope sat. He hadn’t known anything about her whe
n he had told Letitia and her father about his grandfather’s game the day before. Now he wished Letitia hadn’t brought the topic up in front of her. The last thing he needed was an adventuress sneaking around behind him, hoping to get her greedy little hands on some treasure.
But she was still placidly stitching, as though no one had said anything.
Letitia waited expectantly, and he had no choice but to answer. He crossed one ankle over his knee and cleared his throat. “Actually, my dear, that was what brought me to the vicarage this morning. I was going to ask for your assistance in looking over St. Gregory’s. But you’ve gone and ruined all my plans.”
His friend grinned at his teasing.
“It would appear so. But last time we spoke, you expected the answer to this clue to be at Poppledown Park. What made you change your mind?”
“Only desperation. I haven’t been able to find the answer at home.” He grimaced, mocking himself. “The clue is ‘It is time to seek the Lord.’ I’ve been to all the places at Poppledown that my grandfather used to go to seek the Lord. I was thinking perhaps there would be a clock in one of them, to take care of the ‘time’ part of the clue.”
Letitia’s brow wrinkled. “And you were thinking of the sun dial at St. Gregory’s?”
He nodded. “Yes. Or anything else. I figured between the two of us, we could root it out.”
Mrs. Stanhope cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon… Are there any broken clocks at Poppledown Park?”
“I beg your pardon?” Nick shot up an eyebrow.
“It’s just that… Well, it seems that if one is going to use a biblical reference to make a clue…it seems likely that one would somehow include the reference. If any of the clocks are broken, it would be easy to scan the faces of them for twelve after ten.” Nick stared blankly at her. When he made no response, she added, “The verse is found in the book of Hosea, chapter 10, verse 12.”
This made Letitia exclaim with delight. “Susannah! I did not even know that one! What a scholar you are!”
Nick had known the verse. But he too was surprised that Mrs. Stanhope had. Fallen women were rarely so well acquainted with the prophets. Regardless, the idea of the clock hands was a clever one, loath though he was to admit it. “Thank you for the suggestion, Mrs. Stanhope. I will search St. Gregory’s, as I intended. But if I am unsuccessful, I will broaden my search for clocks to other areas of Poppledown Park. It is a clever idea and won’t take long to implement. I shall let you know if it bears fruit.”
She nodded, barely catching his eye before turning her attention back to her embroidery. But his attention was also called away by Letitia uttering the foulest words he’d ever heard from her mouth.
“Oh, Nick, isn’t it wonderful! It seems perhaps Susannah is an answer to my prayers twice over. I am unable to help you, but Susannah is of able body and obviously of clever mind! She can help you in my stead!” She beamed at both of them, a veritable angel from heaven, not even recognizing the atrocity she spoke.
At least Letitia had finally said something that affected the woman. This time when Nick’s eyes flew to the corner, they did not find her stoically embroidering, but rather with mouth agape, eyes wide. She looked almost as horrified as he felt.
Apparently, even the idea of treasure didn’t make time in his company appealing to her.
Nick opened his mouth to refuse Letitia’s suggestion, but an idea crossed his mind. If Mrs. Stanhope was busy helping him, she would have less time to weasel her way into any better graces with the vicar and his daughter. Perhaps it would be wise after all. But he wasn’t ready to commit to the idea. His eyes met Mrs. Stanhope’s, answering her horror with a nod.
“That is an interesting idea, Letitia. But right now, Mrs. Stanhope is needed by your side. Perhaps if you improve, she will be available to help.”
Mrs. Stanhope closed her mouth and swallowed, but the look of dread didn’t quite leave her eyes. He felt his mouth widen into a grin. He rather liked seeing her ill at ease. She was so deuced contained most of the time.
But he wouldn’t stay to enjoy it. Best to take his leave before Letitia got any more cake-headed ideas. “Speaking of your recuperation, my dear,” he said, turning his attention back to his friend, “I must leave you to it. I think I will poke around a bit at St. Gregory’s, futile though it may be. And I promised Gabriel I’d be back in time for luncheon.” He stood and walked toward the bed to give Letitia an affectionate pat on the hand. He might have dropped a kiss on her brow if that dratted Mrs. Stanhope hadn’t moved next to her, making it impossible to get close to Letitia without getting even closer to the other woman.
He’d already spoken to the vicar, so when he left the room, he went straight downstairs and out the door. His lungs filled with the fresh sea air, as though he had been under water and had just broken the surface, so relieved was he to be free from Mrs. Stanhope’s presence. He hoped she hadn’t been right about the clue. That would give him the excuse he needed to fob off Letitia’s suggestion. He lifted up a short prayer that the clue would be readily found at St. Gregory’s as he walked the short distance to the squat, medieval church.
An hour and a half later, he accepted that particular prayer would not be answered. Alas. He locked the door with the key Mr. Robinson had given him and began his walk back to Poppledown Park. He stopped briefly by the vicarage to return the key, but mercifully met with none of the inhabitants. Or visitors, he thought darkly. And when he came to the cottage, he kept his head down and hurried along. It might have been cowardly, but he didn’t want to risk a conversation with that woman right now. He was disappointed his search had been in vain, and didn’t wish to see the smug twinkle he could too easily imagine in her eye. He would go home, play with his son, and put all thoughts of Susannah Stanhope far from his mind.
Alas, that was not to be either. For no sooner had he stepped into the foyer than she, or rather her words, were brought instantly to mind. For there, right where it had been since it had been brought from Mr. Clement’s shop in London, sat the longcase mahogany clock. In his boyhood, he and his siblings had come to meals and gone to bed according to its chimes, but shortly after his marriage, it had stopped working. But now he took the time to actually read it. Twelve minutes after ten.
A part of him argued against it. No, it was merely a coincidence. But truthfully, he knew it was no use. Ms. Stanhope had helped him solve the clue.
He cleared his throat, suddenly finding it rather thick. “Stokes,” he said to the butler, who was still in his position by the door. “Have you the key to this clock cabinet?”
“Of course. I shall retrieve it right away.”
Nick nodded, but when the butler retreated, he sighed a great sigh, dropping his eyes into his palms. It wasn’t that he minded having a partner. In fact, puzzles of this sort were often more amusing when one had a partner. He had attended many a house party in his younger years in which the hosts had arranged just such a game. Partners were lovely.
But not this partner. This partner was exasperating. Mysterious. Perhaps even devious. And even worse, too pretty and smart by half. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t certain he would be able to work with her without beginning to admire her.
Stokes returned with the key, and Nick sent a quick prayer that this wasn’t the correct answer to the clue. Noting, of course, that prayers along this line had proved quite unanswered so far this day. For a moment, it looked as though the cabinet were empty. But then he noticed the decorative casings all along the back of the cabinet. There didn’t seem to be a reason for this, as the cabinet door was wooden and would be locked.
Instinctively, he reached into the cabinet and gently pulled on one of the casings. As he had suspected, it slid from its moorings quite easily, and he could see a wide seam in the wood behind it. He freed the rest of the casings and then slid his fingers into the seam. He pulled the block of wood from the cabinet and saw a series of secret drawers on the back side. They were empty.
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br /> His lowered his brows. Why have secret drawers and not use them?
He leaned back over and glanced into the hole left by the drawers. The bottom of the cabinet didn’t seem to be constructed of the same piece of wood all the way back. Instead, the area that had been covered by the secret drawers seemed to have a small wooden tile covering it. Nick reached in and set a fingernail to the tile. It lifted easily, revealing a folded piece of paper in a shallow compartment beneath the tile.
The next clue.
Far from the ecstatic moment he’d imagined, he groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Because now he had to find a way to work with that blasted woman.
Chapter 14
Letitia had assured her that a plain morning dress would be appropriate wear for their adventure. Mr. Robinson had popped his head in and expressed his concern, but upon being reassured that it was truly in Susannah’s mother’s journal, he withdrew his objections.
So it was that Susannah found herself standing before a wooden box on wheels on the sandy beach. The box was painted a bright-blue color. Letitia was several yards away before a box of her own, a fetching yellow in color. She gave a merry wave at Susannah now and stepped inside the box. Susannah did the same.
As she had been advised by the “dipper,” their guide for this adventure, she found a robe inside. The bathing-box was slightly musty and quite dark, the only light filtering in from the cracks between the boards, and most of those had apparently been sealed over with paint. The dipper—a Mrs. Smart, if she remembered correctly—had told them they would have about ten minutes to change before the driver began towing the box out to sea. Once they got into position in the water, the team of horses would be released from the box, and the women would be able to swim in comfort and privacy.
Susannah had never been sea bathing. There had been a lake about an hour’s walk from her childhood home, and her father had occasionally taken his small daughters to swim there. But she only remembered a few times. And “swimming” was a bit of a euphemism for the splashing and playing that went on in the water. She didn’t think she’d learned a proper swim stroke in her life.
Legacy Redeemed (Redeemed, Restored, Reclaimed Book 1) Page 11