What a fool she’d been. What an idiot to think there might be something between them. Hadn’t she always been the cynical one? The one skeptical of emotional entanglements? So what the hell had changed?
Niall Campbell, that’s what. He’d begun breaking down the walls she’d constructed around her heart and despite her better judgment, she hadn’t been able to stop him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The hurt and disappointment turned suddenly into anger. Niall hadliedto her. He didn’t even have the decency to tell her the truth, to tell her that he wanted her out of his life, instead coming up with some vague excuse.
Damn him. Who the hell did he think he was?
Well, if he thought she was just going to meekly accept whatever bullshit he fed her, he had better think again!
She walked off. Behind her, she heard Antonio shouting for her but she ignored him. She marched back down the hill, past the building site, past the crofts and cottages, and through the gates to the manor house.
She barged through the heavy wooden doors, her heart thundering in her chest. Clenching her fists, she hurried up the staircase two steps at a time.
Turning a corner, she arrived at his study. The heavy wooden door stood slightly ajar. She hesitated for a second, then pushed it open with more force than necessary.
The room was filled with the scent of old parchment. Light streamed in through the tall windows overlooking the courtyard, casting long shadows on the thick rug. His desk was cluttered with papers and maps, ink pots and quills scattered haphazardly around.
But it was empty, with no sign of Niall.
Her frustration deflated slightly at the lack of a target for her anger. Fine. She would just have to wait. She threw herself into the chair behind the desk, drumming her fingers on the arms and glaring at the door.
Her eye was caught by the mess of papers sprawled across the desk. In fact, the whole study was a little on the chaotic side and she guessed Niall didn’t allow Flora to tidy in here. If he did, there was no way the housekeeper would let it get like this.
She noticed a figurine sitting on a small side table on the other side of the room. Unlike the rest of the room, the side table was clean and tidy and the figurine gleamed as if freshly polished. Charlie got up from her seat and walked over to examine it.
The figurine was about a foot high and depicted a female rider astride a rearing horse. It was made from fired clay but had been carved and worked to such a degree that its detail was exquisite. Charlie could see the muscles beneath the coat of the horse and the woman’s hair billowed back from her face in an unseen wind.
The little pedestal on which the figurine sat bore a name and date carved into it.Arabella Campbell, 1675.
Niall’s mother had made this? No wonder he kept it so clean and well cared for. If the workmanship of this piece was anything to go by, his mother had obviously been an accomplished sculptor as well as a potter.
Charlie reached out and ran her fingertip over the haunches of the rearing horse, appreciating the elegantly carved and molded lines. As she did so, the sculpture shifted on the pedestal slightly. Charlie heard a ‘click’ and a little draw she’d not seen before opened in the base of the side table.
She blinked in surprise. On the outside, there was no indication that the little table had a drawer built into it and she would never have known it was there if she hadn’t moved the sculpture to release it. A secret drawer? What was Niall hiding in there? Bags of money? Stacks of jewels?
But no, as she leaned down to look, she saw that the drawer was stuffed full of parchments and letters no different to the mess that covered the desk.
No. Wait. These lettersdidlook a little different. Instead of being written in a language she recognized, these pages were full of symbols and patterns that made no sense.
She reached out, her fingers running over the rough parchment of one of the letters. The seal was broken and it looked like it had been read several times.
Gibberish, she thought.Why does Niall have letters that are unreadable?
Her curiosity piqued, she took a handful of the papers and carried them over to the desk. Laying them out flat on the smooth wooden surface, she examined the strange marks, squinting at the alien symbols. The symbols looked meaningless but she sensed they weren’t. There was a pattern to the markings as if they represented...
“Words,” Charlie breathed in sudden understanding.
They were coded letters.
She skimmed over the symbols again. They were arranged neatly into rows and columns, a pattern of dots and dashes and strange glyphs that made no sense to her.
But if it was a code, there should be a key.
She returned to the secret drawer and pulled it open, revealing a small wooden box tucked at the bottom, beneath the papers. Inside was an old, worn piece of parchment with lines of symbols and corresponding letters beneath them—a cipher.
She shouldnotbe doing this. She should not be rummaging through Niall’s private things. And yet, this might be her only chance to unravel the truth.
