by Wolf, Bree
Somehow Grandma Edie knew. She always knew. How? That was a good question. Phineas doubted that they would ever find out for she did not strike him as the kind to reveal her secrets. She liked them far too much.
Louisa cleared her throat, her green eyes rather wide as they swept over the many faces of her beloved family. Then her lips parted, and she said, “I cannot read.”
Phineas held his breath as he waited for what might happen next.
Silence continued to linger as Louisa’s family looked back at her, the look in their eyes speaking of confusion. He could see that they were all but waiting for her to continue, certain that there was more to whatever story she was trying to tell them.
Louisa’s parents exchanged a confused look before her mother rose from her spot by the mantle and walked over, seating herself next to her daughter. “What are you trying to tell us?” she asked gently, her hands settling upon Louisa’s.
Louisa inhaled a slow breath, her eyes never leaving her mother’s. “I am trying to tell you that I cannot read. I don’t know how.”
While most of her family found themselves experiencing a rather severe shock at those words, Phineas saw Leonora smile gently at Louisa, relief upon her face that her sister had finally decided to share her secret with them. Anne and Tobias, too, were smiling, their hands linked.
Troy suddenly strode forward, a deep frown upon his face. “You cannot be serious!” he exclaimed, slowly shaking his head as he stared at his sister.
Ignoring her brother, Harriet rose to her feet, her face bearing a most similar expression. “But you always read to us,” she objected, her hands gesturing wildly. “All those lovely poems. How…?” She shook her head. “How?”
Squeezing her mother’s hands, Louisa turned to look at her youngest sister. “I did not read,” she admitted. “I recited from memory.”
More questions bubbled up and everyone in the room suddenly shot to their feet, asking and commenting, confusion and disbelief foremost on their minds. Phineas could see that Louisa was becoming overwhelmed, and yet again, it was a Grandma Edie’s forceful interference that quieted the room. “If you wish to hear her answers,” the dowager chided after once more using her walking stick, “then you need to give the poor girl a chance to talk.”
Casting her grandmother a grateful smile, Louisa then began to tell them everything. She spoke of her childhood, getting confused with the letters and words and their meaning. She spoke of being ashamed, and thus not mentioning that she was falling behind, that she did not understand. She had tried her best to remember what was read to her, but memorizing could only help her to a certain extent. Some situations had always been difficult and terrifying.
Coming to sit beside his wife, Lord Whickerton placed a hand on his lady’s shoulder while the other reached around and closed over Louisa’s. His expression, too, spoke of disbelief, but also of sorrow and regret. “Why did you not tell us?” he asked gently. “We could’ve helped you. We would have helped you. Do you not know that?”
Tears were brimming in Louisa’s eyes, and Phineas smiled, relieved that her family was reacting exactly how he had hoped, how she deserved. “I should’ve known,” Louisa replied on a sob. “Perhaps somewhere deep down I did know. But I was afraid and ashamed, and I did not want you looking at me with pity in your eyes. I did not want you to be ashamed of me.”
Her father’s jaw hardened. “We would never!” he exclaimed, a tinge of anger in his voice. “You did nothing wrong. It is I who failed you.”
Louisa frowned. “Father?”
Shaking his head, her father closed his eyes. “I should’ve noticed,” he mumbled, then looked at his wife, who looked back at him nodding. “We should’ve noticed. I’m so deeply sorry, my girl.”
“No, Father.” Louisa squeezed his hand, her other wiping away the tears that still lingered upon her face. “Do not blame yourself. It was not your fault. It was—”
“It was no one’s fault,” Grandma Edie exclaimed, her voice surprisingly strong, for it silenced everyone else. All heads turned to look at her, and she paused for a moment to ensure she had everyone’s attention. “The past is the past,” she told them wisely, “and it is the future we need to concern ourselves with. Now, what do you suggest we do?”
“We help her,” Christina mumbled, her voice rather quiet at first before certainty replaced confusion upon her face. A wide smile teased her lips, and she looked at Miss Mortensen and then at her sister warmly. “We shall help you. Of course, we shall.”
Miss Mortensen nodded vigorously, answering her friend’s smile with one of her own, mere seconds before Harriet shot to her feet. “We can teach you all we know,” she chuckled, “which, I’m afraid, in my case is not that much.”
Everybody laughed at that, and the tension that had been lingering upon the room was broken. Everything felt lighter suddenly, and Phineas stood back, allowing Louisa this moment with her family, and watched as they all came together to help her.
“I still have all my old books,” Juliet threw in, a rather maternal smile upon her face as she looked at Louisa, “from when I first started to learn. We should leave you little notes and—”
“And riddles!” Harriet interjected, all but bouncing on her feet with excitement. “Oh, perhaps a scavenger hunt, where one note leads to the next and so on.” She glanced around the room, quite obviously very eager to get started.
Christina nodded, also surging to her feet. “Oh, that will be so much fun!”
Troy cleared his throat in that moment. “Should we not hire a tutor?” he asked, looking around the room from one face to the next.
Immediately, his sisters protested loudly, and once again Grandma Edie was forced to silence them. “I believe Louisa should decide.”
Lady Whickerton nodded as she looked from her mother-in-law to her daughter. “I quite agree,” she stated brushing a tear from Louisa’s cheek. “What do you want? How do you wish to proceed?”
Louisa inhaled a shaking breath, then her tear-filled eyes swept around the room, lingering upon every member of her beloved family. “I think, I like the idea of a scavenger hunt.” She turned to look at her two younger sisters. “It does sound like a lot of fun!”
Christina and Harriet all but shrieked in delight.
“I hate to be a naysayer,” Troy threw in, a bit of an apologetic look upon his face, “but to get started, I suppose, she ought to learn at least a few necessary words. Do you not agree?”
Indeed, his objection put a bit of a dampener on everyone’s mood. At least, until Louisa exclaimed, “But I already know a few words. I have been practicing these past weeks.”
Stunned faces turned back to look at her. “How did you learn?” Juliet asked, looking deeply surprised.
And for the first time since they had stepped into the room, Louisa turned to look at Phineas. Her eyes still shone with tears, but he could not help but think that the moment they fell on him, they grew warmer and shone more deeply than before. “Phineas has been helping me, teaching me.”
Instantly, all eyes turned to him, and Phineas swallowed, a chuckle drifting from his lips. “And she’s been criticizing me the whole time.”
Everybody laughed, even Louisa. “You’ve made up nonsensical sentences,” she accused him before her gaze turned back to her family. “He’s made up nonsensical sentences.”
Smiling warmly, Julia shrugged. “What does it matter? If they help you learn, and you have a bit of fun along the way.” Her gaze shifted back and forth between Louisa and him, and something contemplative came to her brown eyes. “And you do look as though you’ve had fun.”
Louisa’s gaze returned to him, a deeply affectionate smile coming to her face. “I did,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. “I did have fun. Thank you.”
And it was in this very moment that Phineas realized that he was in love with Louisa and had been for a good, long while.
Chapter Thirty-Two
A Scavenger Hunt
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br /> Never in his life had Phineas seen Louisa this happy or this carefree. She seemed to wake every morning, eager to begin the day, and head to bed every night, regretting that it had ended.
“What does this mean?” A deep frown came to her face, and she heaved a deep sigh as though she could feel it linger like a heavy weight upon her chest as she peered at the small note in her hands. “Pat it and prick it.” Still frowning, she looked up at Phineas. “What on earth does this mean?”
Phineas could not help but smile at her for she had not even paid attention to reading the note but had jumped right away to trying to understand it. “It might be a clue,” he said with a shrug.
Standing by the drawing room windows, Louisa gazed out at the wind whipping through the trees, gathering up leaves and tossing them about. The skies were gray, and heavy clouds lingered over Whickerton Grove, promising a downpour soon. “A clue to what?”
Leaning against the wall, Phineas chuckled. “Well, I suppose if it were too obvious, where would be the fun in that?”
Lifting her gaze off the parchment, Louisa glared at him. “You’re not helping,” she chided, tapping the tip of her forefinger against the corner of her mouth. Her gaze became distant as she continued to stare out the window, her thoughts racing in her head.
Phineas would not have been surprised if steam had been coming out of her ears. “Anything?”
“You could help,” she grumbled, annoyance slowly sneaking onto her face. “Instead of simply standing there, doing nothing.”
Fighting to suppress a grin, Phineas crossed his arms. “I’m not doing nothing. I am…giving you the opportunity to…exercise your…formidable intelligence.”
Louisa rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, Phin, that is the worst thing you’ve ever said. How do you come up with these things?”
This time, Phineas did laugh, “That, I cannot say.” Again, he watched her as she poured over the little note. “Anything?”
“You know, if you don’t contribute anything,” Louisa remarked with a snap, “you might as well leave.”
Grinning, Phineas pushed off the wall and walked over to her. He came to stand behind her, his hands settling upon her shoulders before they slowly slid down her arms. He could feel her inhale a soft breath before she leaned back into his embrace. “Do you truly want me to go?” he could not help but ask, longing to hear her contradict him.
A soft laugh drifted from her lips, but she did not say anything, at least not something in answer to his question. “My sisters have been sending me countless notes,” Louisa mused, thinking out loud. “Most of which held some sort of reference to a book or a poem I’m familiar with. One or two were even about old nursery rhymes that our governess used to teach us.” For a heartbeat or two, she remained silent before Phineas suddenly felt her stiffen.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, a bit alarmed.
Louisa whirled around to face him, her eyes wide and a hint of triumph upon her features. “It’s from a nursery rhyme,” she exclaimed, her hands gesturing wildly as she tried to contain her excitement.
“Which one?” Phineas asked, trying to peek at the parchment.
Louisa rolled her eyes at him as though the answer should be obvious. “From Patty Cake, of course!” she exclaimed, her lips once more parting to recite the rhyme.
“Patty Cake, Patty Cake,
Baker's Man.
That I will Master,
As fast as I can.
Pat it and prick it,
And mark it with a T,
And there will be enough for Tommy and me.”
“Very well,” Phineas said, once more crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded her. “What does it mean?”
Again, Louisa frowned, her gaze moving back and forth between him and the small note. “Well, considering this is a scavenger hunt, I suppose this note is telling us where to go. Now, where could this nursery rhyme tell us to go?” She grinned at him, and he knew that she knew the answer.
Indeed, it was rather obvious. Still, he loved the way she was teasing him, and thus pretended to be utterly ignorant. “I do not have the faintest inkling.”
“The kitchen, of course!” Louisa threw up her hands. “Where else would you bake a cake?” Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him along as she hastened out of the room.
As expected, they found another little note in the kitchen, set down carefully upon a bag of flour. Louisa unfolded it rather impatiently and began to read, her eyes flying over the small scrap of parchment. Phineas was amazed at how quickly she was able to make out the words and assign the meaning. Indeed, she had come a long way, and perhaps distracting her with a scavenger hunt, letting her read without focusing on reading, was the perfect way to help her along.
And on they went, from room to room, finding note after note. Some were simple and straightforward while others required some thought. Most stemmed from nursery rhymes or short, little poems the girls had loved as children. Now and then, Phineas thought to see tears glistening in the corners of Louisa’s eyes as she read through yet another one, most likely one very dear to her heart.
Her brow furrowed though as they stood in the library, her head bent over yet another note. “Hmm?” she mumbled, then looked up and showed him the note. “What do you think? Do we need to dance? Without shoes? But how does that help?”
“She will dance without her shoe,” Phineas read, the line echoing in his head, sounding oddly familiar. However, for a moment, he was stumped. “I’m certain I’ve heard it before, but I don’t know where. Do you think it’s a nursery rhyme as well?”
The next instance, her jaw dropped, and her hand shot out, grasping his arm, her fingers squeezing him rather tightly. “It is a nursery rhyme!” She exclaimed, her voice sounding a little hoarse. Then she recited from memory:
Cock a doodle do!
What is my dame to do?
Till master's found his fiddling stick,
She'll dance without her shoe.
Phineas grinned, slapping his forehead. “Yes, that’s the one.”
“But where do we go?” Turning, Louisa looked out the window where soft raindrops had begun to come down. Then she glanced at the door behind him. “The ballroom? We’ve already been there. The music room? We’ve been there as well.” Her gaze once more dropped to the parchment, but then rose when she did not find the line, she was looking for there.
Phineas watched as she closed her eyes, her lips parting and then moving as she quietly recited the nursery rhyme once more. A moment later, her eyes flew open. “The barn!”
Now, it was Phineas’ turn to frown. “Why the barn?”
Before answering him, Louisa once more grabbed his arm and pulled him along. Phineas had no choice but to follow, not that he minded. “Where else would you find a rooster?”
Phineas laughed as they hurried along, running as though time mattered. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought to spy one of the Whickerton sisters, probably Harriet, judging from the soft reddish glow of her hair. Were they spying on them? Or were they simply too curious to stay away? Whatever it was, Phineas could not help but smile.
Rushing to slip into their coats, they headed outside where a harsh wind blew into their faces. Phineas blinked, and glanced up at the sky. “There are even snowflakes among the raindrops,” he observed, pulling his coat tighter around himself as another gust of wind found its way to his skin, chilling him to the bone.
Running ahead, Louisa laughed. “It is winter, is it not?”
Phineas hurried to catch up with her. “Still, I’ve never cared for snow.” Again, he glanced up at the dark sky. “I hope this will not get worse.”
“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Louisa chided as she pushed open the barn door and slipped inside.
Rushing to get out of the cold, Phineas breathed in deeply as he stepped into the stables. The scent of hay tickled his nose, and he blinked his eyes at the dim light inside. A striped cat slunk around his legs, brushing up against hi
m and purring. “Lou?”
“Over here!”
Trying to step around the cat, Phineas moved along toward the back of the stables. Two large sheets seemed to have been fixed to the upper beams and then crossed before their other ends were attached to the floor. “What is this?” Phineas mumbled as he came to stand beside Louisa.
A rosy glow shone on her cheeks, and she was nibbling on her bottom lip. “I think this is it,” she whispered almost reverently.
Phineas frowned. “This is it? How do you figure?”
She turned to look at him, a wide smile upon her face. “Well, this is an X, is it not?” she said, one arm lifted, pointing at the two sheets strung from top to bottom, crossing one another diagonally.
Taking a step back, Phineas nodded, suddenly seeing something that had eluded him before. “Now that you mentioned it,” he mumbled, then turned to look at her. “Do you suppose there is treasure buried here?”
Louisa laughed, “Perhaps not buried,” she replied, then ducked under the crossed sheets and stepped onto the straw-covered floor behind it. “Or at least not buried in the ground.” She bent down to push aside the straw. “Help me!”
Somewhat reluctant at first, Phineas joined her, leaning down to push aside the straw. In the dim light in the barn, he could barely see anything, but rather felt his way around. “What do you think we are looking for?”
“I haven’t a clue.” She rummaged around in the straw somewhere to his right, shoving and pushing, now and then even lifting armfuls of straw and dumping it elsewhere.
On his head, for example.
Phineas tensed as the load came down upon him, the straws scratching his skin. “Lulu!” His voice rang with warning, using the nickname she had once hated. He wondered if she still did. Shooting to his feet, Phineas rushed to brush the straw off himself. He glared at her, by now utterly annoyed with the scavenger hunt. He was cold and tired and now dirty.
Louisa, however, was still in excellent spirits, for she stood no more than a few arms’ lengths away from him, a hand covering her mouth as she tried not to laugh. Still, even in the limited light in the barn, her green eyes glowed with mirth and exuberance. “You should see yourself,” she laughed, finally giving in and no longer trying to hide it. “You look ridiculous. It suits you!”