He glanced up at India who was staring thoughtfully at the bracelet. “What do you make of it?” he asked.
She took it from his hand, flipping it over several times as she studied it.
“Artemis was right,” she said. “It is as exactly as the drawing represented.”
Ridge nodded, not wanting to discuss the eccentric old man and his prophetic ramblings.
“What now though?” he asked. “What do we do with the bracelet?”
Mrs. Unster, too, looked curiously at India. “Are you taking up your father’s work, my dear?”
India looked between him and Mrs. Unster, uncertainty ringing her eyes. “I’m not all together certain, but I know the legend has it that the bracelet is the key to Pagoria.”
Mrs. Unster nodded approvingly before Ridge could respond. “In Roddy’s last letter to me before his death, he told me that he and your father were on the verge of a most remarkable find, that they had finally found the key to all their dreams. I can only assume he meant the bracelet.”
India surveyed the woman in shock. Was the old woman daft? “My father was working with Sir Roderick? But he was in India.”
Mrs. Unster shook her head. “I have the letter. Would you care to read it?”
“Please,” India responded.
Her mind raced as the older woman disappeared from the sitting room. Surely her father wouldn’t have left India when she was being held captive by the rebels. But then how else did she explain his presence now in Spain? Alive.
Hurt crowded her chest. Had her father deserted her? Left her for dead? And to work with Sir Roderick, a man she and her father both regarded as a scoundrel, someone who held no real respect for history, only the wealth ancient artifacts would bring.
She shook her head as if her will alone could alter the truth. She wouldn’t allow that her own father had chosen his obsession with the lost city over her safety.
Ridge curled his hand around her elbow, directing her attention to him.
“I don’t understand the significance of your father working with Sir Roderick.”
She blinked and looked away. “There is no significance. I was merely taken aback by her claims.”
He looked doubtfully at her but didn’t pursue the topic.
Mrs. Unster returned bearing a folded sheaf of papers. “Here you are, dearie. This came a mere month before I learned of his death.”
India opened the letter and began reading. By the time she reached the end, tears blurred her vision. Unless Sir Roderick fabricated the entire story, her father had indeed joined him in Spain to search for Pagoria. While she remained in India, frightened, alone, and certain of her death.
She closed her eyes and handed the letter back to Mrs. Unster. She had always assumed her father had disappeared in his search forher. Not for the city. When she had escaped and made her way to the British Consulate, she was informed that her father had vanished and presumed dead.
And here she was prepared to sacrifice everything to save him from certain death.
“Are you feeling well?” Ridge asked beside her. “Perhaps we have done too much on the heels of your injury.”
“Injury?” Mrs. Unster exclaimed. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m quite well,” India responded, raising her head and forcing the oppressive sadness from her throat.
“We must take our leave, Mrs. Unster,” Ridge began. “But before we depart, I feel it necessary to warn you that someone with nefarious intentions is dogging our every step. The book seller who sold me your brother’s journal was murdered this morning.”
Mrs. Unster gasped and raised a hand to her throat.
“Heavens! I shall have to retrieve the pistols from the case.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to post a few extra men around the house to ensure no intruders gain access. I shall direct a few of my men to see to your protection,” Ridge continued.
India looked down at the bracelet resting in her palm, ignoring the discussion between Ridge and Mrs. Unster. Could this really be the key to the lost city? Had her father and Sir Roderick gained access to Pagoria? And what had gone so terribly wrong afterwards? Sir Roderick’s mysterious death. Her father’s capture. And now someone willing to murder for the journal and the key.
