Kate hid her laughter. The captain’s language was always colorful. She’d attempted to impose a fine on the gentlemen when they cursed, but their substitutions tended to be even more imaginative and sounded equally obscene. Manure, indeed.
“Well, if I fix the clock, it won’t be quiet.” Fletch opened the tool box. “First, you must understand that the weight of the pendulum itself measures the time. The only thing they should contain, at best, is a small container of mercury. Mercury adjusts weight for temperature to ensure accurate time.”
“Which it hasn’t kept in forever. Housekeeping will appreciate anything even resembling correct time,” Minerva said. As the housekeeper’s daughter-in-law, she’d have discussed the clock with her. “Maids don’t own watches.”
Fletch chose a tool. “If the mercury containers have been removed, I cannot immediately repair them. Our scholars will need to calculate the amount of mercury necessary to keep pendulums of this length on time, and we’ll have to order it.”
People departing the luncheon buffet drifted past the library while Fletch worked. Arnaud and Thea, Davy’s sister, glanced in, presumably at the unusual sight of her brother conversing with adults. As Fletch carefully removed the back plate on one pendulum, the pair entered to watch.
Dirty old stones tumbled out. Thea gasped.
“Diamonds?” Minerva whispered.
Catching a glimmer of crystalline light, Kate raised her eyebrows. She’d never seen diamonds in anything except jewelry—and never in this quantity.
Davy and Oliver grabbed for the yellowed, folded parchment that fell out with the stones.
Forty-three
Fletch
Ignoring the ancient paper and blackened stones that had ruined an exemplary piece of clockwork, Fletch smiled in relief when he produced an intact mercury container. “These pendulums are newer than the clock. The late earl must have replaced the original with these oddly engraved ones,” he told anyone listening, which was probably no one. He studied the mercury container and the pendulum it came from. “We’ll have to weigh everything to see what adjustments are needed.”
“Open the other!” young Davy cried in excitement.
In surprise, Fletch glanced at the chubby scholar. Clockmaking was mind-numbingly dull work to most. To his amazement, it wasn’t just Davy, but he had an entire audience eagerly watching. Did they really want to know about mercury?
“Jewels,” Kate murmured, touching one of the dirty stones that had broken a perfect timepiece. She nodded at the crumbling paper the librarian had removed from grubby boy hands. “Treasure map.”
“Treasure? This clock is a treasure of human craftsmanship,” Fletch muttered. “Pretty sparkles to hang on your ears are just pebbles dug from dirt.” He used the felt he’d wrapped the weights in to slide the second weight closer. “The clock, however, is a precision instrument built by a genius.”
Listening, Miss Talbott was distracted from the stones she assessed. “There is a small but very profitable market for rare timepieces. If it’s rare or by a famous maker, it might be worth a great deal.”
Fletch stared at her in horror.
Beside him, Kate snickered. “I have tried so hard to persuade the gentleman to talk, and you have frozen his tongue again, Miss Talbott.”
Arnaud snorted. “She has that effect on most people. Give her an item of beauty, and she monetizes it. It’s the pirate blood.”
Thea swatted his big arm and whispered an angry retort.
Fletch ignored the lovebirds who sparred like sparrows. “It is unlikely this clock was made by anyone famous.” He worked at the back of the second pendulum, ignoring the gathering crowd. “It’s unsigned and unique and someone has tampered with it over the years. Clocks are meant to be useful instruments, not treasure chests.”
Arnaud’s merchant brother, Henri, studied the tiny diamonds that had spoiled the weights. “These have been fashioned to string together. I fancy they were once part of the missing parures.”
He handed them to Jack, Fletch’s former lieutenant. Jack had once lived in India and knew precious stones. Fletch didn’t recognize the French word, but the others understood. Excitement rippled through the crowd. Even those studying the parchment looked up in surprise. Fletch glanced questioningly at Kate.
Blessedly, she understood. “It is rumored our mad earl concealed the family jewels.”
Ah, right. Fletch shook his head in disgust. “Anyone mutilating a precision instrument like this had attics to let.”
Loosing the back of the pendulum, he gently opened it. Another vial of mercury, thank the heavens, more useless paper, and red stones this time. Fletch could almost feel the clock sigh in relief to be rid of the trash. He’d have to test the weights, see how far off they left the timing, Perhaps he could adjust?—
“Rubies and diamonds,” Jack confirmed. “A fortune’s worth, but I think not the major stones that adorn the parures in the paintings.”
Wondering where he could find an accurate scale, Fletch hefted the mercury in his palm.
Clare Huntley examined a small stone. “I’m no expert, but the cut appears similar to our pendants. The earl did leave us an inheritance! Can we restore the village now?”
