Sure enough, Hypatia returned with a box, which she upended on the dining table. Everyone crowded around as she sorted out the wood tiles, each of which had a letter painted upon it. She arranged the letters to spell out DEATHLESS VEIN.
Shuffling the tiles, she rearranged them.
SHETLAND SIEVE.
“Ring any bells?” She looked at Rhys.
He shook his head. “Try again.”
Her fingers flashed. HEAVIEST LENDS.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she muttered.
“How about EVIDENT LASHES?” Newton suggested.
“What would that refer to?” Maggie tilted her head. “A place for public floggings?”
“It could be a place where ladies gather to flirt,” Rhys mused. “To bat their obviouseyelashes.”
“You would think of that,” Maggie said wryly.
He winked at her.
Hypatia’s fingers drummed against the table. “The solution to the anagram should be an obvious place. One that Ransom would know about. We haven’t got the right combination as yet.”
She pushed the tiles around, trying out different combinations. After a few attempts, she put together SEVENTH AS LIED.
“That’s still not right.” She tapped out a frustrated ditty with a tile.
“May I?” Rhys said.
He took her place. Removed the “TH” from “SEVENTH.”Seven…seven…His gut told him he was on the right track. Slowly, he formed the word “THE,” placing it in front of “SEVEN.” He studied the results: THE SEVEN ASLID.
The answer struck him like a physical blow.
At the same time, Hypatia expelled a breath. “The Seven Dials. That’s where Horatio hid the treasure. The jewels…they’re in London!”
20
When the dooropened to her chamber later that night, Maggie wasn’t surprised. She had left a bedside lamp burning, hoping that he would come.
“Rhys?” she called softly.
“Expecting someone else?” Closing the door with a click, he emerged from the shadows. He’d removed his cravat, the strong column of his throat rising from the open vee. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing his sinewy forearms. Unbuttoning his waistcoat, he slung it over a chair on his way to the bed.
Her heart thumped at the vision of masculinity he made. Sitting up against the pillows, she looked up into his wickedly handsome face as he drew near.
“We have to be quiet,” she whispered. “Hypatia and Mr. Newton are downstairs.”
After solving the anagram, the four of them had enjoyed a celebratory repast. Hypatia had unearthed another bottle of brandy from Paul’s study. Before Maggie knew it, the bottle was empty and the clock striking midnight.
Given the lateness of the hour and amount of alcohol imbibed, Hypatia had suggested that Rhys and Mr. Newton stay the night. The latter had already fallen asleep on the sofa. As long as the men left early in the morning, none would be the wiser.
“I don’t think your sister-in-law and Newton will pay us any mind.” There was a hint of amusement in Rhys’s tone. “My guess is that they’re rather occupied at the moment.”
Maggie’s jaw slackened. Although she hadn’t missed the signals passing between Patty and Mr. Newton, the idea that her bluestocking sister-in-law would engage in impropriety—and with a man she’d just met—was shocking.
“You don’t think…that is, theywouldn’t…”
