Chapter 1
Otterburn Castle, Northumberland, 1841
Despite her petite nearly twelve-year-oldframe, Miss Charlotte Roylance prided herself on her ability to outrun most boys. Her titian braids flailed around, fueling her determination as she tore down the hill and into the forest of her family’s estate. Today, despite her best efforts, no amount of strength equaled her older brother’s speed. Christopher had grown up a great deal during his second year at Harrow.
“Wait for me!” Charlotte called, still trying to keep pace as he glanced over his shoulder and then continued his quick clip with his best friend, Alexander Jenkins. It was just like them to leave her behind, but this time she would not have it.
At last the trees grew thick, the path proved tenuous, and moss-covered logs and uneven ground forced Christopher and Alex to slow as they maneuvered deeper into the woods, giving Charlotte time to catch up. She was near enough now that she could hear the satisfying sound of their labored breathing just ahead of her.
“You are always ruining our plans,” Christopher spat over his shoulder as he reluctantly acknowledged Charlotte’s proximity.
“I am not.” Charlotte panted, her hands braced on her knees. “I knew you were going to explore the ruins.” She heaved another breath. “I’m the one who wrote to you about them, Christopher, so—”
“Poppycock. What could you know? I’ve always known they were there.” Her brother stopped and eyed his little sister with the contemptuous glare of a much superior fourteen-year-old.
He was lying. Deliberately, and in front of Alex, to make her seem inferior. How many times had Charlotte written to him these past months, trying to impress him with her clean penmanship and interesting stories, only to be rewarded like this? Embarrassed and enraged, she tried for a fearsome rebuttal, but instead her eyes welled up with tears.
Christopher stood with his arms crossed at the forest line of their family estate. “Alex and I have been dreaming of this place the entire last term at Harrow. We studied the medieval Scottish invasion, for heaven’s sake! I won’t let you spoil our day.”
From the corner of her eye Charlotte noticed Alexander’s blue eyes shifting between her and Christopher. Afraid he’d echo her brother’s words and send her away, her heart dove into her shoes as she stole another glance at him. The future of all her happiness hung in the balance, dependent on his words.
Alex squared his shoulders and boasted a confident, lopsided grin. “Let her stay.”
“Are you mad?” Christopher groaned, raking a hand through his mop of red hair, its shade much more vibrant than hers. “You really think she should come with us?”
“Come off it, Chris, and leave her be.” Alex let out an agitated sigh and stood his ground, arms crossed. “Despite the fact that sheisa pesky girl, I heard little George say she’s found real treasure here. I trust your sister, so I say she stays.”
Had her little brother George really bragged about her? Having an older brother and two younger ones was indeed her greatest trial, but if six-year-old George had said as much and it saved her now, she’d give him her pudding for a week.
Alex flicked his disheveled brown hair out of his eye as he tapped his toe and stared at her. “So is it true, Stars? Where exactly is it?”
She laughed, having forgotten that silly nickname. Alex had teased her mercilessly about her freckles since she could remember. The affliction of freckles had not been eased when he’d claimed her face reminded him of constellations in the night sky.
She raised her head high. “It’s more than true. I’ll show you as much.” Without waiting to see the boys’ reaction, she pressed into the forest ahead of them.
As her boots crunched over fallen logs and the hem of her dress rubbed against the mossy stones, she found herself just a hair grateful for Alex. Despite his use of his somewhat insulting nickname for her, hewasthe one and only boy she didn’t hate. Such a fact was fortunate, she admitted begrudgingly, because he was to be her intended, according to their mothers. How she was supposed to digest such rankling information, she did not know. But as she led the boys toward the path, she recalled Alex’s sure-of-himself face, no longer round after his time at Harrow, as he’d spoken up for her. He looked to be a few inches taller than she remembered, and if she had to admit it, he wasn’t bad-looking at all. Thank heavens.
Alex wasn’t awful; he was brave and kind.
In comparison, Christopher proved the chief offender as far as boys went. Her hands balled into fists. Just yesterday she had longed for her brother to return, hopeful that he’d include her in his summer jaunts with Alex. Now she wondered at her foolishness. She wouldn’t mind at all if he were thrown out with the bathwater.
Even so, she dearly wished to show both boys what she had found and perhaps even unearth more treasures. Sneaking out from her lessons had been no small feat, and she must enjoy this afternoon, for her governess, Miss Gardner, was sure to punish her dreadfully tomorrow.
They pressed on as a silent lot for several more minutes. The bracken-covered floor caused the air to feel heavy with damp. Dappled light filtered through the ever-thickening trees, but Charlotte knew right where she was.
“Here.” She walked into a small circle of trees near a clearing and stooped down to a large, shallow circle of dirt near the oldest tree. The space wasn’t more than fifteen feet by fifteen feet, and she hoped the partially dug-up dirt and moss, with all the other underbrush removed, proved to the boys that she knew what she was speaking about.
She’d always loved this small patch of ancient trees, their trunks more gnarled than the rest of the forest. Somehow they felt sacred, as if the very branches of the trees themselves held secrets. For as long as she had dared, this was the place she’d stolen to every time she’d wanted quiet. But only a few months ago, when she’d laid her back against the biggest tree and picked up her book, she’d noticed out of the corner of her eye something glinting. That had led to digging, then discovery, and finally sharing her find with her brother via a letter. The pieces she had found were rusted and broken, but they seemed like pieces of weaponry. She’d even sent a bit of one in a letter to Christopher.
The trees had told their story—this clearing had been a battlefield.
Alex came near her and reached down into the large space. He rubbed a bit of the dirt between his fingers, feeling the consistency, and then started digging in the pit. Christopher dug next to him, still grumbling that they should have left Charlotte behind. Alex simply shook his head. When he glanced at her and raised his eyes in exasperation at something Christopher said, Charlotte had to stifle a laugh. After nearly half an hour, Alex paused, a large scoop of earth in his hand.
Charlotte held her breath. In her hours of digging before today, she’d found sword tips and hilts and various remains of weaponry, but whatever he was sifting out of his palm was small and colored and definitely not made of metal.
He continued brushing as he knelt down. The tiny something flickered with light. Another moment and Alex lifted between his thumb and forefinger a small stone the color of old blood, cased in a thin line of silver. “My goodness, Stars, you were right. This place is a treasure trove.”
His acknowledgment felt good, though Charlotte thought she deserved a little more excitement from him. Never once had she found a jewel here. Alex sat back on his heels, lifting the jewel to eye level to examine it. The edges of the casing appeared tarnished, but the stone itself was still intact. The entire thing was just smaller than a thumbnail.
