“Then we shall search for it.” Isabella stood up and placed her sewing on the chair. “Today is the sixth of July. That falls within the appropriate week. What time is it?”
“Half past eleven,” Catherine whispered, her eyes round with excitement.
“Come along, Lady Catherine, we have some treasure hunting to do.” Isabella held out her hand, and Catherine took it eagerly.
The renovation of the east wing had begun in early spring, and the workers had achieved marvelous results in a short span of time. All the rooms had been thoroughly cleaned, broken panes of glass repaired, chimneys swept, and fireplaces re-stoned.
As Isabella walked the hallway with Catherine by her side, none of the memories of her previous trips to this part of the castle gripped her thoughts. It was as though she had never walked these floors, so complete were the changes and improvements.
There were other happy changes at The Grange, too. Maggie was expecting her second child soon, and the three other maids had successfully given birth, Fran to a boy and Penny and Molly each to a daughter. Mrs. Amberly had retired to a cozy cottage on the estate, and Catherine and Ian visited her faithfully every week.
Damien had mentioned to Isabella only last week that Mrs. Amberly had been hinting rather broadly about returning temporarily to The Grange when their child was born. Isabella amazed herself by seriously considering the idea, for despite her past rocky relationship with Mrs. Amberly, she knew in her heart that she would never find a more loyal, devoted nursemaid for her baby.
Isabella and Catherine entered the rose room just as the clock in the great hall struck noon. The bedchamber was bathed in a rosy glow, but when the final gong struck, the glow faded, and a single shaft of rose sunlight fell across the floor.
“Mama, look!” Catherine shouted in awe.
“It’s amazing,” Isabella agreed. The tip of the sunbeam fell nearly in the center of the empty room, directly on a square of parquet flooring. It looked like a giant, rose-colored arrow.
“Through the rose of the noon day sun,” Isabella whispered.
“ ’Tis just as Lady Anne’s poem says, Catherine.”
The little girl clapped her hands together with delight. “The treasure must be hidden under the floor.”
Shaking her head in agreement, Isabella knelt down to examine the floor. The inlaid wood was in good condition and had not been replaced during the renovation, but it had been cleaned, scraped, waxed, and buffed to a high shine.
Isabella ran her hand cautiously over the smooth, polished surface and through the sunbeam. The section of wood was flush to the floor, no different from any other panel.
Balling her hand into a fist, Isabella rapped her knuckles sharply on the floor. A deep, solid sound echoed through the room.
Catherine sat beside Isabella. Imitating Isabella’s actions Catherine tapped the surrounding floorboards, then hit the floor again directly in the beam of light. There was a hollow, thumping noise, distinctly different from the others.
Catherine’s head shot up in triumph. “We found it!”
“We have found something,” Isabella corrected, trying to keep the excitement from her voice. “If we lift the flooring, we might find only an empty space.”
“But we must look,” Catherine insisted.
“Of course we shall look,” Isabella agreed with a grin. “If we do not pry this floor open, we will never be able to sleep tonight. Quick, run and find your father and Ian. They should be out in the stables. The new horses from Tattersall’s were expected this morning.”
Catherine left with an undignified flurry of skirts. Isabella sat back on her heels and glanced about the room. The sun had shifted again as the minutes passed. The rosy glow created by the many panes of colored glass set in the windows now replaced the solitary beam.
In the space of a few short minutes, the single shaft of light was no longer pointing the way. Isabella sat directly in front of the floor panel, vowing not to move an inch lest she forget which panel the sunbeam had marked.
As she waited, Isabella’s eyes wandered involuntarily to the wall on the far side of the room that once hid the secret passageway. It no longer existed. Damien had ordered the entrance bricked closed and the latch removed from the wall.
The children had asked questions about their mother’s death and were told she had died accidentally, as was the truth. By coming here today, Catherine had amply demonstrated that she suffered no lingering effects from her previous ordeal of being trapped inside the cold, dark passageway.
Isabella had received a brief letter from Thomas, who had resigned himself to a quiet life in America. She thought occasionally of her half sister and half brother, but did not dwell on the past. There were too many important things happening in the future. Isabella’s hand rested comfortably on the slight swell of her stomach. If all went well, there would be a new baby to love by Christmas.
“What have my two favorite girls discovered?” Damien asked a few minutes later as he breezed into the room with Catherine and Ian hard on his heels.
“It is the most miraculous thing, Father,” Catherine said enthusiastically. “There is a beam of light that points to the floor. That is where Lady Anne hid the treasure!”
Isabella saw the confusion and disappointment mar Catherine’s face. “What happened to the beam, Mama? It has disap-peared!”
“It is past noon, Catherine,” Isabella said. “The beam only appeared briefly, but I have sat directly on the spot so we would know where it was.”
