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From the depths of the trunk, William recovered a tarnished silver tiara that still sparkled with colored gemstones. A wand made in the same style lay beneath it. “I remember this. It belonged to Caroline. One summer her only wish was to be a fairy princess like she’d heard about in a book Aunt Lavinia used to read us.” When Caroline refused to come forward, it was Mr. Butler who accepted the items and brought them to her.

“There is no shame even as a grown woman to still believe in magic, Miss Storme,” he said softly as he presented them to her. “The world needs more of that sort of madness I think.”

The look she bestowed upon the sailor sent worry circling through William’s insides, but it vanished the second she placed the tiara upon her head of dark curls. For one moment, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she waved the wand about as if granting wishes to her subjects. In that tiny second, he remembered her as his middle sister from childhood, the girl with dreams in her head that her insanity couldn’t touch, the sister who had the world at her feet.

Before everything changed and darkness and dissent broke their family apart.

Oh God, I had a part in keeping her locked away. Is it too late for her?

For us?

He’d have to square with those consequences sooner rather than later, surely. Once more he delved into the trunk. “Oh, I remember this.” He pulled out a replica of an HMS naval ship. “This belongs to Brand.”

“Damn, but I haven’t seen this in years!” Reverently, Brand took the model ship from him and traced his fingertips over the shiny hull. “Father and I made this, and I sailed it on one of the small ponds down by the maze. Even back then I knew I wanted to sail.”

“What happened to it?” Elizabeth asked.

“I don’t know. I assumed Drew had stolen it out of jealousy.” Brand shrugged but softened his words with a cheeky grin. “Perhaps Father gathered up all these things and dumped them in the chest so we might appreciate them later.”

She nodded. “I think it’s a fine model ship. If you’d like, we can tuck it away and save it in the event we have a son,” she said in a whisper with secret knowledge shining in her eyes.

Exclamations of delight went through the room from those folks who hadn’t heard his cousin’s announcement upon his arrival at Hadleigh Hall. A flush sneaked up Brand’s neck from the extra attention, and he nodded. “I would like that.”

As sharp jealousy and pleasure warred with each other inside William’s chest, he hid his emotions by bending once more over the trunk. The last item inside had once belonged to him. A small leatherbound notebook and the nub of a well-loved pencil awaited, and he snatched them up, putting the book to his nose. When he inhaled, the scents of leather and lead assailed his nostrils. “My writing master gave me this years ago. He said I had a gift for details and observation, and that perhaps this would help me organize those thoughts.” A veil of tears misted his eyes as he stared at the scuffed exterior of the notebook. “It was the beginnings of the path that would eventually lead me to Bow Street. I thought one of the boys at Eton had stolen it.”

Andrew had lined up his tin soldiers upon the mantle. “There’s still the mystery of why these items were in that trunk at all.”

“Wait, there are two envelopes at the bottom.” William grabbed the two yellowed envelopes. On one, Andrew, Phineas, and Brand were written. On the other, William, Caroline, and Isobel had been penned in his father’s handwriting. “I’ll wager these explain it.” He joined Andrew at the fireplace and handed over the envelope that belonged to him. “You go first, since you’re the oldest.”

“Quite right.” Without fanfare, he tore open the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper. “‘My dearest boys, never think you don’t need each other. Despite what the years bring, family will always prove the most valuable gift, and you must trust each other. I learned that too late. Use the bonds you’ve formed this Christmastide and during this treasure hunt to help you move forward in your lives. Don’t make the same mistakes I did with my brother. Death is difficult enough without added guilt. Much love, Father.’” Moisture shimmered in Andrew’s eyes as he looked at William. “It was a rather fun time, wasn’t it?”

“When we forgot our differences and old remembered slights?” he nodded. “That it was, and…” He forced moisture into his suddenly dry, tight throat. “And I hope our friendship will continue to build over the course of the house party.”

“And beyond,” Andrew said with a nod. He clapped a hand to William’s shoulder and gave him a good-natured shake. “I’m glad you came, Cousin. I’ve missed having you underfoot.”

“As long as you don’t strive to keep me under your thumb.” He then turned his attention to his own envelope, which he ripped open and removed the letter. The envelope scraps fell to the floor. Wellington immediately carried one away beneath a sofa. “‘Congratulations on solving all the riddles successfully. If you’re reading this note, you’ve no doubt realized my brother and I parted ways some years ago. I left this missive and some of the riddles for the scavenger hunt with my loving wife. She was instructed to give them to Lavinia to include at the time of her choosing in the hopes that you children would come together in love and forgiveness. Those were things I couldn’t manage in my lifetime.

“‘Regardless, it’s my fondest wish that in working together toward a common goal, the Stormes have learned the value of relying on each other. Christmastide is for family, and that is the legacy I leave behind. Make it stronger and better than I ever could. Lord knows I missed too much of life due to pride and anger. Don’t waste any more of yours in the same.’” His voice broke on the last word, and he passed a hand over his eyes as tears welled. “‘P.S. Tell Caroline I’m heartily sorry, and that I was wrong.’”

His aunt pressed a handkerchief to her streaming eyes. “My husband wanted all of you children to be better than he was. He often dreamed of having a reunited Storme family, but he was too broken to make that happen.”

“My husband said much the same,” his mother said with a nod. “Oh, they were stubborn fools, but I don’t believe our children will follow in those footsteps.” She met William’s eyes. “Mend the hurt, William. Set aside the differences. You need your cousins, and they need you.”

“I’ll do my level best.” He turned away lest they see the tears he didn’t know what to do with. The night had been full of emotions he couldn’t sort through, and that healing wouldn’t occur overnight, but it had started. When Andrew tightened his hand on William’s shoulder, a kernel of hope bloomed in his chest. The olive branch had been extended this night, and now it was up to him to continue building that bridge between the two Storme lines.

I don’t know if I’m strong enough.

“You needn’t do this alone, Cousin,” Andrew said in a low voice. “We can both set aside our pride and egos to work together. And once that happens, nothing will stop the Stormes.”

“I appreciate that.” He bowed his head. “Thank you, Father, for showing me the first glimmer of the path I need to tread.”

Perhaps Christmastide was indeed a time for miracles, for essentially, he’d been given his family back. It was broken and rough around the edges, but it was his. He couldn’t wait to see where his life led from here.


Tags: Sandra Sookoo The Storme Brothers Historical