Chapter 12
Alexandra wove palm fronds into a hat, thinking about Nicholas’s confession. Nicholas was a proud man. Despite the murder publicized in all the papers, and at risk to her scorn, he had humbled himself to her. He had been released from the tragedy that surrounded his life.
To admit her own secret, to say the shame of not being able to bear children aloud was like saying she wasn’t a woman.
She wanted Nicholas. How she dared to dream. Yet the vagaries of life were as wide as they were severe, leaving her with no choices. Like continents they were, undiscovered, and sitting apart, with oceans of uncertainty between them.
His kiss was the kiss to end all kisses, but never could she cross that line again. Yet how could she stop from falling desperately in love with him?
He had fired a latent primitive force inside her, making her yearn for what was forbidden. Her longings were a young girl’s fantasies, a fool’s dream, causing a choking bitterness to rise, for the very thing she wanted the most and could not have—Nicholas. He need only to look at her—really look at her, to let his eyes fall on hers, deeply blue and penetrating, to see her soul laid bare.
The wind blew, flipping the pages of the diary, touting the unfortunate lives of Captain Sharp and Lady Jane. Alexandra’s heart ached for the sea captain and his lover, their bond wider than the plains of England. If they were ever to get off this island, she’d give the diary to Lady Jane.
Her hands worked quickly weaving the fronds, in and out, up and down, over and back. Parrots chattered in the treetops and she lifted her head. Two of them perched side by side, one leaning into the other for support, their bright colors gleaming in the sun. She smoothed a hand over her weaving and sighed. How their lives were entwined, she and Nicholas so like Captain Sharp and Lady Jane, a mirror image of their own difficulties.
She dropped the hat and picked up the journal, loosened the straps that bound it together and flipped open the corroded metal latch. A tightness in her chest held her rigid, held her in suspense. The book spine was worn from the binder. She held it up to the sun and a sliver of light protruded. A paper was stuffed in the tiny space. With care, she grasped the end of a parchment and pulled.
Her mouth went dry. A treasure map? Had Captain Sharp hid a map in the spine? With trembling fingers, she unfolded the paper.
“If anyone should read this diary, please give it to Lady Jane Dabney of London, England and tell her that I will always Treasure her in these terms, Lovely, Only, Valuable and Enthralling and that all the riches of my heart I hold for her, are on this island.”
How strange. No map and the sentence was not like the prose written on the former pages. Disjointed. She had to find Nicholas.
Prohibited to see what he was working on, she strode through the gardens to the tree line. His dark head was bent over an odd bamboo contraption, his calloused hands, fitting and gluing segments together.
When her shadow crossed his, he looked up and beamed. “You were not supposed to come until I called you, but since you ae here, what do you think?”
“What is it?”
Before she could protest, he grabbed the book from her hand and placed it on a stump. “Come,” he ordered, impulsively grabbing her hand. They ran along the path, following a line of bamboo. She was breathless when he stopped at the river.
“Let me demonstrate.” He tilted a bamboo segment to catch the descending waters. Water gurgled and gushed down the bamboo pipes. He grabbed her hand again, racing with the flow, and ending up where they had started, a clear stream of water pouring from the end piece.
Her laughter bubbled over and she clapped her hands. “You are absolutely wonderful.”
Shoulders back, chin–up, he exaggerated the puffed-up arrogance of an academic, and waved a hand over his invention. “Channeling water down a bamboo tube from the river to the house will solve the many hours of backbreaking hauling. Our plants can be watered and washing can be done at the house with minimal effort.”
She picked up the frayed hems of her shift and curtseyed her approval. “I am in the august company of a scientific genius.”
He leaned into her and for one frightening moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. She skirted away and said, “Nicholas I’ve something important to tell you. I have made a discovery. I believe Captain Sharp’s treasure is here. She presented him with the note tucked in the spine. Nicholas sat on the stump.
She read the phrase aloud over his shoulder. “Note how Captain Sharp capitalizes the first initials of Lovely, Only, Valuable and Enthralling. He even goes so far and to run his pen over the letters twice to give accent. In case the diary fell into Lady Jane’s hands, he wanted to make her aware.”
Nicholas nodded. “Definitely code. The T is capitalized in treasure to draw the eye. Well done, Alexandra except what does the emphasis on the other letters mean?”
“LOVE. I believe the set of initials represents a code for something else. We must convert the letters and discover Captain Sharp’s intended meaning. L could stand for anything as well as O, V, and E. Think Nicholas, what on this island would be characteristic to serve as symbols?”
Nicholas shrugged. “L might stand for London Tower.”
She smacked an insect on her thigh and slanted him a knowing look. “We are not in England. We must think of the secret meaning and how it relates to our present environment. Lookout or lake come to mind except there is no lake.”
She tapped her finger on her lip. “You are not helping much. You can step in with an idea anytime you want.”
Nicholas ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Captain Sharp did mention lagoon in his writings. “O” could be for oranges but more likely ocean which won’t help us much because we are surrounded by the ocean and that is a big area to narrow down.”
Alexandra walked around him. “V means what?”
“I can’t think of a thing. ‘E’ could stand for escarpment. We have explored that part at the island’s summit.”
“Brilliant logic, Nicholas.”
He stood and walked to the house.
Alexandra hurried after him. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to fill the gourds with water. If we are to hunt treasure, we will need hydration.”