Starting on the left side of the room, I examined every inch of the blue walls and ornate portraits. I paid close attention to the plasterwork and wood carvings, moved books on the shelves, and checked behind each one. My meticulous search lasted half an hour. When I was confident I had scoured every inch of the room, I made my way out to the corridor.
The wide and long passage on the second floor was my next task, but it was daunting. Lady Tottenham’s ‘exercise hall’ might as well have been an art gallery. Countless portraits and other paintings striped the walls that led to a window, cushioned bench, and a bookshelf. The tables and sideboards that flanked the corridor were topped with vases and busts. A tiger skin rug, with the head still attached, stared at me from underneath the nearest table. The exhibition was crowded enough to overwhelm me, yet wide and vast enough to almost justify such excessive decoration. Lady Tottenham was nothing if not excessive. She took great pride in this part of the house.
I walked forward, uncertain of the best place to start. The air was surprisingly cold. I wrapped my arms around myself as gooseflesh erupted over my skin. My footfalls echoed as I made my way to the opposite end, taking a brief glance at each item I passed. I gripped the key in my palm hard enough to leave an impression. I unfolded my fingers. “What do you unlock?” I whispered, casting my gaze across the many frames on the walls. Oval frames, landscapes, and portraits stretched all the way up to the ceiling.
I walked slowly as I scrutinized each one on the left side. After several minutes, I paused on a small portrait of a young woman with ginger curls. Her sharp green eyes were familiar. The painting was not as well done as some of the others, but it was still clearly Lady Tottenham. She could not have been older than twenty when it was commissioned. Her pursed lips and vibrant eyes revealed her impish disposition, even all those decades ago. Her larger portrait was at the center of the wall. The likeness must have been taken after her marriage to Lord Tottenham. I gasped when I noticed the small tan rabbit tucked under her arm.
A pang of grief struck my chest at the reminder that Alexander wasn’t here to see it. He would have laughed.
I checked both portraits of Lady Tottenham closely, but there were no keyholes hidden in the paint strokes. I took a deep breath as my frustration rose. I hardly knew what I was looking for. A heart in its frame. Lady Tottenham’s heart.
The key to her heart was the rabbit, but there was an actual key beneath its foot.
Finding her heart in its frame might only be another clue that would lead me to the true location of the keyhole. My head hurt as I examined the portraits again. There must have been something I was missing.
My gaze froze on the small portrait of her younger likeness. She wore a delicate chain with a large locket resting over her chest. The brush strokes were smudged together, the paint flaking off. It didn’t seem to match the rest of the portrait, as if it had been added years after the original work had been done.
I knew I was alone, but I still glanced over my shoulder before scratching lightly at the paint. Tiny flecks stuck to my fingertips. Was the locket significant? Was it some sort of clue? I couldn’t look away from that particular portrait. My instincts told me that I was close to discovering something.
I took hold of the gilded frame, jostling it slightly. It was less than two feet tall, and was attached to the wall at both upper corners. I lifted it away from the striped wallpaper, peering behind it.
I nearly dropped the frame on my toes.
The same locket that had been painted over the portrait hung from a nail behind the frame.
My hands shook as I set the portrait down on the floor and unhooked the locket from the wall.
The heavy gold locket was the size of half my palm. The details were much clearer than they had been in the portrait. It was engraved with a small depiction of cupid on one side, with his bow drawn. On the other side was a border in the shape of a heart. At the center, was a tiny keyhole.
My pulse raced. I hadn’t expected to find the next clue so quickly. Luck had been on my side. I held up the key to the corresponding hole on the locket. It was a perfect match. Was the locket the prize? Or was there something else inside? I hardly knew what to expect as I wiggled the key into the hole and turned it. My heart leaped as the locket sprung open. A tiny slip of parchment fluttered to the floor.
I snatched it up, nearly dropping the locket in the process. Was it only another clue? I thought I had reached the end of the game, but I should have known better. There was still a week remaining of the house party. I read the short message written on the parchment.
18 Archard Street
“What?” I whispered. I hadn’t expected the clues to lead me away from Birch House, but that seemed to be what Lady Tottenham intended. Was it a London address?
Urgency rose up in my throat, making it difficult to draw a breath. I lacked the patience to wait another day to discover what that address meant. With Lady Tottenham feeling unwell, today was my best opportunity to leave the house unnoticed. I was familiar with London, but not with the address inside the locket. The day was young, and my next clue was waiting for me.
I had to find it.
A wild excitement thrummed through my veins as I hastily hung up the portrait, taking the locket and key with me as I made my way back down the stairs. I found a straw bonnet that matched my lavender gown, a shawl, and my reticule before sneaking out into the courtyard. I slipped the locket inside the reticule, counting my shillings as I started in the direction of the square. I needed to find a coachman willing to convey me to 18 Archard Street with very little money. It wouldn’t be an easy task, to be sure.
“Ma’am?” A young man emerged from the stables, waving one arm high above his head. He doffed his hat in greeting as he approached. “Where’re you off to?”
“Oh—” I froze, unsure of how much I should reveal. “I have business in Town. I hoped to find a coach to convey me to my destination.”
“That is my responsibility, ma’am.” He gave a polite smile. “The mistress instructed me to provide the needed conveyance for her guests. I’ll have a coach prepared straight away.”
I gave a small nod, though the situation made me slightly uneasy. Had he been watching for me? He had jumped out of the stables so quickly.
I waited as he assembled the team of horses and led the coach out to the middle of the courtyard. He opened the door, motioning me inside. I took his hand as I stepped up and sat on the velvet cushions. The tassels that hung from the ceiling matched the blue cushions. “What is your destination?” the coachman asked.
I hesitated. I hadn’t the slightest idea where the locket was leading me. I didn’t know how far it was from Birch House, or if the coachman would even be willing to convey me there. “The address is in an area I’m unfamiliar with.” I gave an apologetic smile. “Do you know where to find Archard Street?”
He smiled. “Oh, yes. Would it be Eighteen Archard Street, perchance?”
My stomach twisted. “Y-yes.”
