“Three, actually.” Max flipped them over to examine the long loopy scrawl. Interesting.
“More letters?”
“But we hadn’t found any in months!”
“Let me see.”
A chorus of female voices rang out in rapid succession. All four ladies gathered around him with wide eyes. “Another?” he asked.
“Yes. We’ve found a dozen love letters tucked in the pages of books, first here at the shop, and then Ellie and Lucius found more in a bookshop in London. They are all from the same shipment of books sold to the shop by a private owner. Mr. Buxley purchased part of that lot from the place in London. It has been an ongoing mystery to figure out who the couple is and what has become of them.”
Mrs. Grisham nodded. “It seems their affair was a secret.”
“She tucked the letters into books in her library to hide them. Maybe from her disapproving family,” Lady Weston said.
“Or perhaps from her husband,” Lord Weston chimed in, which earned him a disapproving frown from his wife. He just shrugged.
“Anyway, the address pages are torn off, leaving us with very few clues,” Olivia said. “But we have enjoyed reading the letters. The author is quite effusive with his language.”
Mrs. Kingsley winked. “And very naughty.”
Max raised his eyebrows. “Well, that sounds interesting. You know you can use charcoal to find out the missing name and address.”
“What do you mean?” Olivia asked.
“An imprint from the nub of the quill is left behind on the page underneath. You just have to rub lightly with charcoal to see it. Here, I can show you.” He walked over to the desk and rummaged around in the top drawer for a piece of charcoal pencil. Then he returned to the desk where everyone had gathered. “I’ve done this often when trying to retrieve information from old documents where the ink had worn away.”
He unfolded one of the letters, and indeed the address page had been carefully torn off. He flatted the first page of text then looked up at the group. “Should we read it first? The charcoal will make it hard after.”
“Yes!” the ladies chorused.
Max was taken aback by their fervor. He picked it up and began to read aloud.
My love,
Seeing you with him last night has destroyed any joy I once felt in this life. I had to contain my jealous rage at observing his hand laying possessively at your waist. The smile you afforded him as the two of you danced almost overwhelmed me. I know you said you feel nothing for him, and you have avowed your affections for me in your letters. But not being able to hold you in my arms and be assured by the sweet kisses from your lips is torture. I must come to see you. Leave your window unlatched tonight. I will climb into your tower like a thief to steal any crumbs of affection you are willing to offer.
Yours always, J
“A bit dramatic, isn’t it?” Max said. The letter was over the top in its sentiment, as though it was written for the theater. He glanced up and found everyone frowning at him.
“You have to have read the others,” Olivia said. Then, she turned to her friends. “He had to have read all the others to understand.”
The other ladies nodded, but Lord Weston smirked. “They are all like this. I will admit, the thread of the story does pull you in. The letters found so far are not in any order, so the ladies have been trying to decipher the whole picture.”
That Max could understand, a mystery always appealed to him. “Shall we see if we can get a name or address off this?”
“Yes, please.” Olivia stepped closer to peer down at the paper as Max began to lightly rub the charcoal pencil across the parchment in long even strokes covering the middle of the page. “Oh my,” she breathed out softly as a name appeared.
“What does it say?” Mrs. Grisham asked.
“Lady Diana Edwards, Number two Berkley Square,” Max read aloud.
A collective gasp tore through the room. “Pardon?” Lord Weston exclaimed.
“Do you all know who this is?” Max asked.
Lady Weston nodded. “It’s Daniel’s aunt.”