Chapter Nine
William couldn’t but help feeling like a reckless young buck again as he hoisted the loaf of bread he’d stolen from Cook while their group had been in the kitchens.
It had been Brand’s wife who had solved the particular riddle, but there’d been no time to properly marvel over the fact that his younger cousin had married, nor that he’d lost an eye during the war, for the mob of his family had pelted into the kitchens following Brand’s arrival.
The kitchens had been a bevy of activity, for Cook and her minions were preparing for Christmas Eve festivities as well as Christmas itself. That good woman had been pleased to see the flood of guests in her domain, and her eyes had twinkled as they’d poked about, stealing a few savory hand pies in the process.
It had been Elizabeth who’d approached Cook and asked for a clue: Cook then handed the woman a loaf of bread.
The red-faced woman grinned. “Long I’ve waited for this moment. The old earl left instructions for me to bake a scrap of paper into a bread loaf, and that I’d know the time was right when all the Stormes once more came together.”
“I, uh… thank you?” William had no idea what that meant.
Confusion had abounded. Apparently, no one else did either. Elizabeth gave William the bread, and with a ridiculous hunch, he’d broken it open. A clue rested in the middle of the fresh-baked loaf. Brand had nearly burst with pride, and he’d soundly kissed his wife in front of God and everyone in that kitchen, much to the amusement of the staff and the annoyance of Andrew.
Now, William showed off the bread to the occupants of the drawing room as they gawked at him with varying degrees of interest and speculation. A tea service had been delivered and the detritus sat on a low table between the sofas. Various occupants of the room held cups and saucers as well as snacked on biscuits and sandwiches, while the remainder of the house party streamed into the room behind him.
“It seems the final clue has been hidden inside this loaf of bread,” he said by way of explanation, his voice slightly breathless from the exertion of running through the manor house.
“You refused to read it in the kitchens, so do it now,” Isobel demanded, her tone quite imperious for all that she was so young. She flopped on a settee next to Miss Bancroft and soon their heads were together as they whispered and giggled. Apparently, his sister had found a fast friend in the other woman.
“Very well.” Then his gaze landed on his other sister, Caroline. She sat by herself at the opposite side of the room, a teacup clutched in one hand, and when she met his eyes, he was taken aback at the anger roiling there. “Good evening, Caroline. I’m glad you joined us.”
Every head in the room turned toward her, and she shrank into herself. A volley of greetings soon followed, which put a blush on her cheeks.
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you, William, after everything?” Her words were slow, as if she exerted great concentration on uttering them for whatever reason. “I am here because possible made it Cousin Andrew.” Worry wrinkled her smooth brow. She blew out a breath of frustration. How did her insanity affect her outlook? “Cousin Andrew made it possible.”
Andrew cleared his throat. “I’m beyond happy the whole of the Storme family is beneath one roof again.”
The bastard.Always needing to have the attention. “We’ll discuss that later.” Anger sliced through his chest like a hot poker, for she’d come at the behest of his cousin instead of wishing to see her own siblings. Once again, the earl had shown him in a poor light. He darted a glance at his oldest cousin. A faint smile played about Andrew’s face, but the man said nothing. When he looked at his mother, strain and sorrow showed on her face. Obviously, relations hadn’t been repaired between the two women.
“Now is not the time for familial arguments,” his Aunt Lavinia said in a soft voice as she continued to work her embroidery. “Please read the final clue, William. I can’t wait to see if you’ve all guessed correctly.”
Thus chastised, he nodded. “Perhaps you’re right.” He tugged a rolled scrap of paper free from the middle of the bread loaf and then set the food onto a nearby table. Then he slipped off the ribbon tie and let it fall to the floor, where Finn’s cat promptly pounced upon it. After William unrolled the paper, he cleared his throat. “‘You’ve successfully solved the riddles three, I hope as a family you’ve earned some glee. The treasure you seek is within your grasp, and the upcoming search will be your last. Somewhere in the room you occupy now, you’ll find what you seek, but how? Look for the scene of a sunny day, but be forewarned that what you need is behind; remember the key you discovered at the outset.’”
“Well, that’s odd,” Brand said from his spot in a chair. He’d settled his wife on his lap despite the mixed company and the high impropriety of it, but then, he was a Storme and slightly wild at heart.
Perhaps they were all a bit reckless on that score.
“Agreed.” Andrew rested a fist on the mantel. “How the devil could Father had known we’d be in the drawing room?”
“Or is this room not the place we’re meant to be in at all?” Isobel countered. “Oh, this is so annoying!”
William frowned as he read the riddle through once more, silently this time. Then he glanced at his mother. “Mother, can you not reveal all to us?”
“Where is the fun in that?” She coughed slightly. “Your father was adamant that you children do not receive assistance from me or your aunt.”
“I see.” He tossed the scrap into the fire and then clasped his hands behind his back. “Does anyone have an inkling of where to go next?”
A low murmur of conversation circulated through the group as everyone tried to puzzle out the meaning of the final clue.
“Hush, you lot. I believe the answer you seek is forthcoming.” The large man—a sailor friend of Brand’s—slowly crossed the room. He perched on a chair near to Caroline. When he leaned toward her, William bristled. How dare this man talk to his sister! She didn’t need her already convoluted life complicated by the likes of him. “Miss Storme, you’ve solved it, haven’t you?” he asked in softly modulated tones.
She gave him a faint smile and nodded. “Look at the painting on the opposite wall, Mr. Butler.” When he, as well as the rest of the company, did as she bid, Caroline continued. “It is reflecting summer.”
“By Jove, I believe you’re correct.” The sailor with the wavy golden hair, cut slightly longer than current fashion, grinned. “I knew you were the smartest woman here.”
A blush jumped into Caroline’s cheeks, but she didn’t lower her eyes like most unmarried women would after such a blatant compliment. Instead, she regarded Mr. Butler with curiosity and an odd sort of longing William couldn’t interpret. “I things not always people notice.” When her companion cocked his head to the side, she did look away then. “I notice things people sometimes overlook because they ignore me.”