“Here,” Eoin declared after just a few minutes. “The center of this flower is higher than the others.”
“Try moving it,” Calliope suggested.
Eoin placed his thumb on the oak circle, and a clicking sound filled the air. Several wall panels popped open at the exact spot where Matthew’s candle had been extinguished. The physician stepped back and motioned for Eoin to take the lead. “This is both your castle and your search, Your Grace.”
Eoin hesitated, and his aquamarine eyes found Hannah’s. Bittersweetness blossomed inside her as she realized thathe still instinctively turned toward her for advice. Yet she’d tainted their bond. Before his gaze could skirt away, Hannah tilted her chin toward the hidden passage in encouragement.
Eoin audibly sucked in his breath and marched over to the gap. Gripping the oak, he yanked back on the paneling to reveal a narrow space. Matthew relit his candle and handed it to Eoin, who stepped inside the room.
“Is there anything in there?” Sophia called as she stepped closer.
“I think…” Eoin’s reply was muffled. “The passage runs the entire length of the wall, and it appears as if something is piled at the end.”
Hannah heard Eoin’s footsteps as he moved unseen. Then there was a pause followed by banging noises. Eoin grunted but it sounded like it was from exertion, not pain. Still, Hannah wanted to confirm he was uninjured, but his mother was quicker.
“Are you fine, Eoin? Nothing fell on you?”
“I’m… unscathed,” Eoin answered between huffing breaths. Loud scraping echoed through the room. Moments later, a dust-covered Eoin appeared hauling a massive trunk that looked very similar to the one that Hannah had sorted through in Hugh’s bedchamber.
“Bollocks, not another one of those!” Hannah’s father groaned in dismay.
Eoin paused in trying to wedge the chest into the main room. “Should I not have brought this for everyone to see?”
“Pay him no heed.” Hannah’s mother shot her husband an exasperated look. “It is just that we found rather naughty pictures in the last one.”
“How naughty?” Calliope asked brightly.
“How disheartening is it that I had the very same question?” Powys asked.
“Do not get excited. They are very unrealistic,” Sophia reported.
“Well, they are fantasies, are they not?” Powys pointed out.
“Should I… uh… um… just open this in the priest hole?” Eoin asked, his face a deep scarlet.
“Ignore them all.” Hannah swooped in to rescue Eoin as she glared at each of the troublemakers. “This is serious. Banter can happen later.”
Eoin reached for the latch and paused. “It’s padlocked.”
“I can take care of that.” Matthew, whose face had also pinkened at the mention of scandalous drawings, walked over to Eoin. Kneeling down, he produced a set of picks from his boot.
“Who are you?” Powys asked rhetorically, but then he glanced over at Hannah in mock sheepishness. “Pardon. That question was not central to the mystery at hand.”
Within seconds, Matthew opened the chest. This one contained neither blankets nor rolled-up scrolls. Instead, books lay in neat stacks.
“Those look like the diaries that Joan uses to keep track of her gambling losses and wins!” Charlotte called as she hurried over. Eoin reached for one of the journals and handed it to her.
“Is the penmanship the same?” he asked when she flipped to the first page.
Charlotte’s eyebrows rose as she started furiously scanning the record. “I—I am not sure. It is written in a very odd style, and I cannot decipher anything.”
Eoin grabbed another book and scanned it. “It appears to be some sort of code.”
“Code?” Sophia stepped forward to snare a volume. “Who would write in code?”
“The Purveyor would!” Hannah’s heart thumped wildly. Unable to contain herself, she darted over and plucked up a journal. Thumbing through it, she found an odd combination of letters, squiggles, and numbers. Yet everything was precisely organized into what appeared to be paragraphs.
“I wonder if there is a word key to the cypher?” Sophia asked.
