Daphne felt the ribbon of her hat brush against her cheek in the wind as she listened to the others’ silence following her announcement.
All were silent but Jem, that is.
“What a Cam’rn Sife, Mama?” he whispered loudly from where he skipped along the path to Little Seaford beside Lady Serena.
“Hush, Jem,” she said in an undertone. “Why don’t you see how fast you can run to that dandelion up ahead?”
With a squeak of delight, the boy lifted his legs and ran ahead of them.
“When were you going to tell us this?” Ivy asked, once the child was out of earshot. “We’ve been here for three months, and this is the first I’ve heard of this cipher.”
“Is that what you’ve been searching for in the library every day?” Sophia asked, her head tilted in exasperation. “You told us you were especially interested in the mathematics volumes, but I knew you had been through the art books, too.”
“Well, I don’t blame you a bit,” Gemma said firmly. “I know very well how difficult it is to maintain your credibility in the sciences as a woman. If it got out you were treasure hunting, your academic reputation could be ruined. Unless, of course you were keeping this quiet because you didn’t wish to share your gold with us, in which case, I am quite put out.”
But it was obvious from Gemma’s grin that she was nothing of the sort.
“Perhaps you would like for Maitland and me to leave you ladies to discuss this on your own,” said Ivy’s husband with a speaking look at Maitland. The duke, Daphne was relieved to see, looked only concerned for her, which she couldn’t quite fathom after how she’d been treating him.
“No,” she said with a wave of her hand, not meeting any of their gazes—not that she was particularly fond of eye contact at the best of times. “You should stay, since Ivy will tell you whatever I say anyway. And then you’ll tell Maitland, who’ll tell his sister.”
Since none of the named gossips denied the accusation, she took that for their agreement with her assessment.
“Perhaps we should wait until we reach town and can safely sit down to a nice cup of tea in a private dining room at the inn?” she asked. It was illogical, she knew, but she feared Sommersby might somehow overhear them out here in the open.
“If that’s what you wish,” Maitland said, taking her arm in his and leading her past the others and toward the village, which they could now see as their party approached.
A more subdued group, they made the short trek into the village and had little trouble procuring a dining room at the Pig & Whistle. Serena, aware that what Daphne would say was perhaps not something Jem should overhear, made an excuse and took him back to Beauchamp House.
Once they were seated around a large table, full teacups before the ladies, pints of beer for the gentlemen, and two plates of sandwiches and an assortment of cheese and fruit for all of them, Daphne began her story.
“There isn’t all that much to tell,” she said staring into her teacup. “Like the three of you, I received a letter informing me that I’d inherited a quarter of Lady Celeste’s estate, and telling me that per the terms of the will I needed to remove to Beauchamp House at once and remain there for a year or I’d forfeit my share.”
The other ladies nodded. This was information they’d exchanged before.
“But I also received a letter from Lady Celeste herself, which I didn’t tell you about.”
The fact that only the gentlemen expressed surprise at this news told Daphne that they had also received personal letters from their benefactor.
“What did it say?” Maitland asked. He’d refrained from peppering her with questions on the way to the inn, as would have been his usual wont. But now that they were enclosed and away from prying eyes and ears, he seemed more relaxed. At least his posture seemed so to Daphne. She wasn’t very good at reading his expressions.
Quickly, she told them about the line of the letter that was pertinent to the discussion at hand. They didn’t need to know the other parts of the letter, where Lady Celeste talked about how lonely she had guessed Daphne must be, and hoped that she could find friends among the other bluestockings at Beauchamp House. That was personal. And for once, Daphne stopped herself from blurting out exactly what she was thinking. “So,” she concluded, “I knew she was telling me that the Cameron Cipher was somewhere at Beauchamp House. And since she mentioned the library several times in the letter, I guessed that it was probably hidden there. It’s taken me longer than I thought it would however, because I keep getting distracted by the other treasures there.”
“All those summers of searching for the blasted thing and it was in the library all along,” Kerr said with a shake of his dark head. “Aunt must have known what we were up to but she never said a thing.”
“She would hardly have put the things into the hands of a couple of grubby schoolboys,” Maitland said with a shrug. “And it was the chase that was fun. I sincerely doubt either of us would have been able to decipher a code like that. Try though we would have done.”
“It’s possible that she didn’t find it herself until later on,” Ivy said reasonably as she peeled an orange. “Or perhaps she acquired it from someone else and then secreted it in the library herself.”
“She did spend a great deal of time in the library,” Kerr said thoughtfully. “I always thought she was reading or writing letters or whatnot. But since I had an active boy’s loathing for staying indoors, I never joined her there if I could help it.”
“Nor did I,” the duke agreed. “She might have been trying to solve the puzzle herself for all we know. Though I suppose she wouldn’t have told Daphne about it if she had done so.”
Daphne gave a nod of thanks to Gemma, who had just poured her another cup of tea. “She gave no indication one way or the other in her letter. Though my guess is that she was unable to unravel the cipher because if she had done so, she would likely have told someone about it. She knew as well as anyone how much of a coup being the woman who solved one of the greatest puzzles in a generation would be. Woman being the operative word. As someone who valued women’s contributions to scholarship and the arts, she’d have found a way to use the accomplishment as a means to further the cause.”
* * *
“That is my thinking as well,” Sophia said, her dark brown hair showing chestnut highlights in the light from the window. “I knew who Lady Celeste Beauchamp was long before I received my own notification that I was one of her heirs. And it was always in reference to some way she was celebrating the accomplishments of other women. Perhaps I misinterpreted her actions, but despite her own modesty, I think she’d have felt duty bound to report her feat if it meant shining a light on just what sort of things women were capable of.”
“So, she chose to leave it to the one person she knew would be able to solve it,” Ivy said with a nod in Daphne’s direction. “The winner of the Ladies Gazette editor’s prize.”
Two years ago, the editor of a prominent ladies’ magazine had printed a series of ciphers in its pages, promising a free year’s subscription to the person who could solve them. Though not a reader of the publication, Daphne had been unable to resist the opportunity to use her ciphering skills to unravel the puzzles. She’d always been fascinated by codes and secret messages and had studied some of the more famous ones with her tutor. She’d quickly dispatched her solutions to the editor and had won the contest handily. According to her letter, Lady Celeste had taken note. And so she had chosen Daphne to inherit the Cameron Cipher.
“So.” Kerr sat his now empty pint glass on the table. “If we’re agreed she didn’t solve the thing herself, why didn’t she just tell Daphne in her letter where to find it so that she could decipher it? Why go to the trouble of hiding it again?”
“I think I know,” Daphne said, grateful that none of them seemed angry with her for keeping her own counsel on the matter up to now.
Because there was something else Daphne was keeping from her friends. There had been another note waiting for her once she reached Beauchamp House. And its contents she would keep to herself. Not only because its contents were somewhat personal. But also because they pertained to another member of their party.
In full, the second note had read:
My dear Lady Daphne,
I cannot tell you how pleased I am to welcome you to Beauchamp House. I have long admired your intellect, and mathematical genius, as well as your facility with solving equations of other sorts, like the ciphering contest in THE LADIES GAZETTE. What joy it gave me to see an intelligent young woman do that which scores of men could not, by solving their nonsensical coded phrases. I knew I had to include you amongst my Bluestockings in that moment. And I hope you will sharpen your ciphering skills for a much more difficult task now that you’re here.
You will find Romance—and enough intrigue—to Riddle with envy even the most unschooled of ladies among the Treasure of my collections. And as you peruse them, I hope that you will accept the assistance of my dear nephew, Maitland.
His father, my sister’s husband, was a devilish creature and I am happy to say that not one drop of the scandal attached to his father’s reputation has splashed onto dear Dalton. His happy disposition might make you question his intellect, my dear, but do not be fooled. He is quite as clever in his way as any man. (Though not, of course, as clever as you—but who among us is, dear Daphne?)
I hope you will do your benefactress the favor of allowing him to provide any assistance you might need as you begin to plumb the depths of mystery to be found within the many wonderful shelves of my library.
You see, I think as much as adventure, you need a friend. I’ve seen too many brilliant minds brought low by the more emotional toll of loneliness. And if nothing else, I think dear Dalton’s sunny humor can give you a bit of light.
I have every faith that you are the special one I’ve hoped for. And I know you will dazzle the world when your quest is complete.
Yours in intellect,
Lady Celeste Beauchamp
Now, feeling a pang of conscience over her deception, she tried to explain the contents of the note without actually disclosing its existence. “I believe all that Lady Celeste wished was to make an adventure of it. A sort of real-life puzzle, as it were, to lead me to the cipher. She told me as much in her letter.”
That the lady had also wished for her to let the Duke of Maitland be her assistant in the matter was something that they didn’t need to know. Besides, after her indecent proposal, and his perfectly respectable one, she considered that she’d done a creditable job of attempting to let Merry Maitland ease her loneliness. Perhaps they were even friends now. Whatever the case, it was not a matter for the ears of the whole of Beauchamp House.
“There is a certain logic to it,” Gemma said with a nod. “A puzzle that leads to a puzzle.”
“And Aunt Celeste was fond of mazes, riddles, and all sorts of games,” Maitland said with a grin. He turned to Daphne. “You rather remind me of her in that way.”
“I can see that,” Kerr said with a tip of his head to his cousin.
* * *
“Then why are we waiting?” Gemma demanded with excitement in her eyes. “We need to get back to the house at once and start looking for this cipher!” It was ironic how quickly she’d turned from skeptic to true believer, Daphne thought with an sigh. Which was quickly followed by another as she thought about the consequences of having their entire household pawing through what she’d come to think of as her own territory.
But, there was no time to waste. Sommersby was here now, and he was going to find a way into the Beauchamp House library whether she liked it or not.
* * *
The walk back to the house seemed to pass more quickly than the one into the village.
Maitland had watched Daphne as she carried on a lively conversation with the other ladies, an unruly blond curl bouncing against the sensitive skin of her neck. He’d never really considered the back of a woman’s head to be particularly enticing before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.
To his relief, Kerr left him to his own thoughts and when they filed into the front entrance of Beauchamp House, he managed to separate Daphne from the others without being seen.
She must have recognized the need for discretion, because she made no protest as he led her by the arm into the small antechamber his aunt had used as a waiting room for unwanted guests.
With its dull gray walls and mismatched furniture, it was hardly the appropriate setting for a proposal of marriage, but with the arrival of Sommersby that afternoon Maitland had realized that he couldn’t abide the notion of Daphne going to the other man because he’d been too principled to bow to her wishes.
“What did you wish to speak to me about?” she asked, her lovely face tight with impatience. “I should like to have another look at Lady Celeste’s letter before dinner. Especially now that Sommersby has arrived to search for the cipher.”
Her thoughts were a million miles away, and Maitland was suddenly determined to bring her back here to this room. With him.
Pulling her against him, he lowered his lips to hers in a soft, seductive kiss, full of all the pent-up desire he’d been fighting against since their first encounter weeks ago.
She was surprised, but it took only the barest moment for Daphne to catch him up. And when she opened her mouth to his, and slipped her arms around his neck, he hummed with satisfaction. Whatever might have passed between them, whoever might have arrived to distract her, the spark between them was still there.
Coming up for air, he leaned his forehead against hers, and looked down into her half-lidded eyes. “Marry me, Daphne. So that we can explore what’s between us.”
When she didn’t reply at once, he realized his mistake.
Shaking her head, she pulled away from him, and reluctantly, Maitland let her go.
“I won’t marry you simply so that we can lie together, Maitland,” she said with exasperation. “It’s too high a price. If I were already married, or a widow, you wouldn’t even feel obliged to offer at all. Why can you not afford me the same courtesy as you would a willing widow?”
At her words, he huffed out a startled laugh. “You do realize that you’re probably the only unmarried lady in the country who doesn’t wish to become the next Duchess of Maitland?” He thrust a hand through his hair, disheveled from her hands. “I vow, Daphne, you are the most frustrating lady it has ever been my misfortune to meet.”
“If it’s such a misfortune,” she retorted dryly, “then I wonder at your wanting to spend the rest of your life with me.”
“You would try the patience of a saint, madam, and make no mistake about it,” he said with a sigh. “And no, that is not a contradiction of my wish to wed you. It is rather a statement of fact.”
He stepped close to her again, looking down into her defiant green eyes. “Another statement of fact is that there is unfinished business between us, and I will not insult either your or my honor by attempting to bed you without an understanding between us. You might wish to be treated like a different sort of woman, but the truth is that you are not. And a gentlemen would not, could not, forget that.”
“Then I fear you will be doomed to disappointment,” Daphne responded with a shrug. “Which is a shame. For I think we’d get on well together.”
How she could be so hot in his arms one minute and cool as a cucumber the next, he couldn’t know. But he couldn’t deny it added to his desire for her. Even now his fingers itched to pull her against him and persuade her to change her mind.
He wondered suddenly if others were tempted by her in the same way. And was beset with a rare fit of jealousy. “I won’t stand by and let this Sommersby chap take advantage of your friendship, either,” he warned her.
But rather than the irritation he’d expected, he saw instead a shadow pass over her eyes. He realized at once that he’d mistaken her feelings for the other man. Whatever was between her and her former tutor’s son, it wasn’t the sweet tale of young love’s dream he’d conjured in his imagination. If he wasn’t mistaken, it had been fear he’d seen in her eyes.
“What is it, my dear?” he asked, noting that the hands he pulled into his own were trembling. “Daphne, what has that blackguard done?”
But she took a deep breath and pulled away. “Nothing,” she said with a hollow laugh. “We simply knew each other in our youth. That’s all. And I do not wish him to find the Cameron Cipher before I do.”
But Maitland couldn’t let her get away so easily. “Simple acquaintance does not explain the way you paled when you set eyes on him. Nor the way you trembled just now.”
She looked as if she would speak for a moment, then stiffened her spine and gave a slight shake. “Do not be absurd, Duke,” she said with a sunny smile. “I fear you are letting my rejection go to your head. But please do not repeat your proposal again, for I do not know how many times I can tell you I have no wish to wed.”
“You will have to do so one day,” he warned her. “I doubt your father will simply allow you to do whatever you wish.”
Daphne’s lips curled into a genuine smile. “You’d be surprised, Duke. Very, very surprised.”
He watched her, trying to guess what she was thinking. Finally, he shook his head. “I’m going to wear you down, you know. I can be very persuasive.”
“I’m sure you can be,” she replied with a catlike smile. “And so can I.”
Lifting his chin, he said, “Then may the best man, or woman, win.”
With a nod, she accepted his challenge. And without a backward glance, she sailed with head held high from the room.
Watching the sway of her hips as she went, Maitland knew he had his work cut out for him.
And more than ever he wanted to know what had passed between Sommersby and Daphne. Because judging from her response to the man, it hadn’t been anything good.
* * *
After dinner that evening, the ladies—clearly eager to discuss matters they did not wish to share with male ears—headed upstairs to bed, while Kerr and Maitland retired to the room they still thought of as Aunt Celeste’s study, though she’d been gone for months now.
“What did you make of him?” the duke asked his cousin as he settled his large frame into one of the oversize chairs his aunt had purchased expressly for her nephews. “I didn’t believe his story a bit.”
Kerr, who had been pouring them both generous snifters of brandy, looked up, his brow furrowed. “Who?”
If Daphne was frustrated with her friend Ivy’s recent lapse into absent-mindedness, then Maitland was equally put out with Kerr, who spent most of his time away from his wife gazing off into space with a vague smile on his face. “That Sommersby fellow, of course. He looked at Daphne like she was a prize calf at the cattle show.”
His cousin nearly dropped the glass in his extended hand. “You’d better not let her hear you describe her thus. Or any of the ladies, actually. They would flay you alive.”
“You know what I mean,” Maitland said pettishly as he took the brandy. “That chap is up to something, make no mistake about it. And he has designs upon Lady Daphne as sure as the sun rises in the west.”
“It rises in the east,” Kerr corrected absently, “but I suppose I agree about your point. He did seem a bit … calculating.”
“East, west? What does it matter when there is a wolf on the doorstep?” Maitland had never been particularly interested in such things. But he was interested in Daphne, who had clearly not been pleased to hear of her old friend’s reasons for being here. Whether the man wanted her for romantic reasons, or strictly because he knew her agile mind would far more easily unravel the Cameron Cipher once it was found, Maitland was unsure. Hell, it might be both.
“You really are enjoying the animal metaphors this evening, aren’t you?” Kerr quirked a brow at him. “Though the wolf one does seem apt.”
“Well, this is one wolf who will not catch his prey.” Maitland would allow the fellow near Daphne again over his dead body.
“You can hardly bar the door to him when he arrives for dinner tomorrow,” Kerr said reasonably, crossing one booted foot over his knee. “Aside from the fact that the house doesn’t belong to you, you really have no claim on Daphne aside from friendship.” He narrowed his eyes at his cousin. “Unless of course, you’ve changed your mind recently and allowed her to have her wicked way with you. You haven’t, have you?”
“Of course, I haven’t.” Maitland scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business. But, no, my mind is made up on the subject. I will not besmirch her honor. Even if she is willing to let me do so.”
“You’re a stronger man than I am,” Kerr said, shaking his head. “If Ivy had approached me with such an invitation…”
“She’d have to have done so before you even met in order to beat you to the mark, cuz.”
It was no secret that Kerr had compromised his now wife only a few days after their arrival at Beauchamp House.
“I think you’ve proven your inability to control your baser urges around your wife, else you’d not now be married.” Maitland gave his cousin a speaking look. “Though I will admit to a certain amount of envy at your situation. It’s certainly no easy feat to get through every day around her knowing that she’d be mine for the taking if I only agreed to her terms. But I am not in the habit of seducing innocents. And bold though Daphne might be, she is no wanton. I won’t bed her without at least the promise of marriage. It’s as simple as that.”
“I’m not saying it’s not noble of you,” the other man said. “It’s just that not many men would be able to resist temptation like that.”
“Not many men were raised by my father,” Maitland said, his mouth tight. “I will not repeat his sins, no matter how strong the urge. He was a rake and a scoundrel and is likely somewhere in hell beside himself with laughter over my priggishness. But I will not relent. I saw what havoc his dishonor did to not only my mother, but also to the women who were unlucky enough to fall prey to his charms.”
Kerr nodded solemnly. “I know, old fellow. I shouldn’t have teased you on the matter.”
Maitland only nodded in response.
“It was rather a shock to hear Sommersby mention the Cameron Cipher,” Kerr said, changing the subject. “I haven’t thought of it since we were boys. And I certainly had no idea that Aunt Celeste knew anything about it other than the legend.”
“I begin to think there was a great deal that Aunt Celeste knew but didn’t share with us,” Maitland said wryly. “The identity of her heirs, the secrets of her youth, and now the fact that she knew the location of the infamous Cameron Cipher. I wonder if we knew her at all.”
“It’s no secret that she disliked mysteries,” Kerr said with a shrug. “And it would appear that she’s left two at least as part of her legacy to the four heiresses. I wonder what the Misses Hastings are keeping back from us.”
“For now, let’s concentrate on the Cameron Cipher,” Maitland said, more concerned with Daphne than the Misses Hastings, fond though he had grown of them. “Daphne has been searching the library for it since her arrival, it would seem. And has thus far had no luck finding it. Which, given her intellectual abilities leads me to believe that it isn’t there.”
“Or it’s somewhere she hasn’t looked yet,” Kerr retorted. “It’s one of the largest libraries in England. One lady searching for three months is hardly going to find it quickly. No matter how brilliant she is.”
“You have a point, I suppose,” Maitland said with nod. “What I want to know is how Sommersby learned that it was hidden in Beauchamp House. Or that there was a connection at all.”
“Someone must have told,” Kerr said reasonably. “Perhaps we can learn from him at dinner tomorrow. Aunt certainly had innumerable friends and acquaintances. She might have hinted at the cipher’s presence at Beauchamp House to any one of them.”
“She clearly chose Daphne as one of her heirs because of it,” Maitland said. “I wonder if she feels any discomfort over that. That she was picked because of her ciphering abilities.”
“I can’t imagine Lady Daphne is the sort to dwell too much on such things. She seemed eager enough to find the thing. It’s Sommersby’s arrival on the scene that’s set the cat among the pigeons. For all that they’re old friends, she didn’t seem particularly happy to see him.”
Maitland thought back to her response earlier when he’d brought up Sommersby’s name. There was definitely something from the past between them. And on Daphne’s side at least, it was an uncomfortable memory. If he judged Sommersby aright, he thought Sommersby had some sort of an in with Daphne. There had been no mistaking the proprietary way the man’s eyes had roamed over her.
He’d proposed tonight because he thought perhaps Daphne would turn to her old friend in the face of his own rejection of her advances, but the way her hands had trembled at the mention of the man told him she’d sooner proposition a snake.
He looked down to see his hand clenched tight around the brandy glass. When he glanced up, he saw Kerr was watching him knowingly.
“I don’t think there’s anything particular between them, you know,” his cousin said. “If there were, Sommersby would have looked far more smug than he did. He was trying to win back her trust, I think. Ingratiating himself with her.”
“Perhaps,” Maitland said, not wanting to speak of his suspicions regarding the newcomer just yet—at least not with any specificity. “Regardless, I will continue to keep an eye on him. Until he proves otherwise, I don’t trust the man.”
“What did you make of his friend? Foster?”
“Most of my attention was on Sommersby,” Maitland admitted. “But Foster seemed a nice enough chap. He didn’t strike me as anything but what he seemed. Certainly not like Sommersby did. There’s just something about the fellow I cannot like.”
“Foster didn’t look familiar to you at all?” Kerr asked, his eyes troubled. “I could have sworn I knew him from somewhere, but I cannot think of where for the life of me.”
Maitland thought back to the scene on the path to Little Seaford. Sommersby, he could recall with exact detail. His companion, however, was less clear. He had an impression of reddish hair and a medium build. But he’d not lied when he said he wasn’t focused on the fellow. Kerr was usually good at recognizing faces, however, so he didn’t dismiss the other man’s words.
“Perhaps you saw him somewhere in town? Or at university?”
“Maybe,” his cousin replied. “Doubtless it will come to me as soon as I stop trying to remember.”
“If you’d stop mooning over that wife of yours, you’d probably remember quickly enough,” Maitland said, setting down his now empty brandy glass and stretching. “You were a rather clever fellow before Ivy came into your life.”
“I was a rather lonely fellow before Ivy came into my life,” Kerr corrected him with a wink. “And you cannot blame me for being a besotted fool when I have such a prize.”
Despite his jest, Maitland could see that his cousin was happier than he’d ever been. It was as if Kerr had become lighter somehow. As if the cares of the world had lifted from his shoulders and been replaced with a mantle of joy. Or something. He was no poet. He only knew his cousin was a different man since he’d married Ivy. And the duke couldn’t help but be a wee bit envious.
Aloud he said, “I won’t agree too heartily, because I do not wish to be called out.”
“Now, who’s the clever fellow?” Kerr asked with a wink.
And on that note, the cousins made their way upstairs. Kerr to his own room where he would likely share every syllable of their conversation with his wife, and Maitland to his bachelor bedchamber, where he would lie awake for some time mulling over the events of the afternoon.