1
1841, Strathmore Castle, Scotland, Estate of the Duke and Duchess of Strathaven
By hook or by crook, I am going to win, twelve-year-old Lady Olivia McLeod vowed as she left fresh tracks in the snowy field.Then the boys will have to admit that girls are just as clever, or cleverer, than they are.
It was the day before Hogmanay, the Scottish celebration of the New Year, and Livy’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Strathaven, were hosting a party at the country seat. Friends and family had gathered to join in the festivities, including all of Mama’s siblings. Livy adored her aunts, uncles, and cousins from the Kent side of the family; when they were around, a rollicking good time was guaranteed to be had.
Indeed, Livy’s older cousins had designed a “treasure hunt” to amuse the children. A trail of clues led to a prize: a tin crown painted gold and decorated with paste jewels. Whoever retrieved the crown would be declared the winner of the contest and king—or queen—for the day.
The prize was a worthy one. Especially since Livy had overheard her younger brother Christopher and some of his cronies betting on which one of them would be king.
“Obviously, no girl is going to beat us,”the boys had all agreed.
Obviously?The fire of competition had ignited in Livy’s chest. Then and there, she’d resolved to make the boys eat their words, and there was one surefire way to do it: she wouldwin.
Her goal would have been easier to accomplish had her bosom friends Glory and Fiona been there. Since the girls weren’t scheduled to arrive until after the new year, however, Livy had to tackle the task on her own. When the first clue had been distributed at breakfast, she’d gone straight to work. She’d solved the riddle, which led to the stables. There, she’d found the second clue, which took her to the billiards room. Whilst everyone had partaken of luncheon, she had hunted down the next slip of paper hidden in the strings of the pianoforte:
Find me behind the page that never ages.
She’d wasted hours in the library, searching through books for the mysterious page. Her pulse had quickened when she heard two of her male cousins outside in the hallway; were they about to catch up to her? Luckily, she was saved by the tea bell. At the tinkling summons, the boys scampered off to fill their bellies, leaving Livy to contemplate the riddle in peace.
As she’d rifled through a book of medieval poetry, the realization had struck her. She’d dashed to the gallery, stopping in front of an oil painting. The portrait showed a knight in leather armor, his metal helmet carried by an adolescent boy—hispage. The page’s youth had been forever preserved in glowing paint.
Livy had slid her hand between the gilt frame and the wall, triumph surging as her fingers encountered a scrap of paper. Pulling it free, she’d unfolded it and read the scrawled words:
Felicitations, intrepid explorer. You hold in your hands the final clue:
Like Narcissus, I am captivated by my own glitter,
As I hang, suspended between earth and sky, where the wind is bitter.
Livy had hurried to her chamber to don her forest-green mantle, shoving the matching hat with a white plume over her chestnut curls and slinging a leather satchel she’d purloined from her brother across her shoulder. Exiting through the kitchens to avoid being seen—she had no desire to tip off her competitors—she’d managed to snag a sandwich on her way out.
All the sleuthing had worked up her appetite.
Livy was brushing off crumbs when she arrived at her destination: a pond situated at the northern edge of the garden. In the summer, the water teemed with fish and playful ducks, but now the surface was iced over and dusted with drifts of snow. That opaque surface would have frustrated Narcissus who, Livy knew from Mama’s stories, had been captivated by his own watery reflection. She scanned the icy perimeter, looking for a place between earth and sky…and then she saw it: a flash of gold in the branches of a Scots pine.
I’ve done it,she thought gleefully.I have found the prize!
She raced over to the base of the tree. Tilting her head back, she stared up into the thicket of blue-green needles: the crown was tied to the end of the lowest branch. After several futile jumps, she had to concede her vertical disadvantage. As Mama was fond of saying, however, there was more than one way to cook an egg.
Livy grabbed onto the bark, shivering at the chill that seeped through the smooth kid of her gloves. Nonetheless, she pulled herself up, finding the footholds, getting to the desired branch. Testing the ledge and finding it sturdy, she carefully maneuvered toward her glittering prize. She freed the crown from its rope and held it aloft.
“All hail the queen,” she sang.
An ominous crack interrupted her tune. She watched in horror as the branch she was sitting on snapped from the trunk. She plummeted, a shriek exploding from her lungs. Her back hit the snowy bank with a jarring thump. Dazed, she caught her breath and sat up. Looking around her, she couldn’t find the crown.
“Botheration,” she muttered.
Then she saw it: lying some twenty yards away on the pond. Rising, she dusted herself off and placed a foot cautiously onto the ice. Papa had issued countless warnings about walking on frozen surfaces, but the ice felt thick and solid beneath her boots. She would have her prize in a blink and be on her merry way.
She slipped and slid over to the golden circlet. Grabbing it, she shoved it into her bag and started back toward the bank…and froze. Had she imagined the movement beneath her? She took another step forward, and the ice groaned and swelled. A web of cracks shot through the surface.
Heart hammering, she raced toward the shore, but the ground vanished beneath her, her screams lost in an icy abyss. Freezing water burned her lungs as she fought to surface. Ice was everywhere, blocking her escape. Trapped, she pounded her fists against the thick translucent wall, a watery hand choking off her cries. As the world beyond grew blurrier and more distant, a terrifying conviction took hold of her.
I am going to die. Here. Alone.
She fought to survive with all of her strength, thrashing against the ice until the last of her breath bubbled from her. Until her limbs grew heavy, invisible chains dragging her downward. Numbness blanketed her as she sank deeper and deeper into oblivion…
