“That is the message.” I pointed at the card.
“A message…behind the message,” Duke said. He turned around, scanning the library with laser-like focus. Then he walked straight over to the mantel, plucked the small carriage clock off the shelf, and shook it gently.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer, merely flipped the clock over and popped off the back to expose the inner workings.
“Voilà,” he said and held up a small silver key.
“That…that’s the key to the desk lock.”
“Apparently there is more than one secret of the old clock. Now will you let me help you solve this case, darling?”
Slowly, I nodded my head, dazed and dazzled and delighted.
“You’re hired.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Thank you. I was already planning to solve this case, but now I’ll do itwithyou instead of in spite of you,” Duke said. “Makes things much more pleasant.”
“But…”
“Darling, you know I hate when you start sentences with ‘But’—”
“You can help me figure out where Pops went and help me find my book.Butyou have to be back inyourbook by midnight.” I thought one day should be safe enough for him to be out of his stories.
“Midnight? Surely not—”
“InThe Velvet Coffin,you solved the case in less than twenty-four hours.”
He took a deep breath, then narrowed his eyes at me. “Challenge accepted. One day,” he said. “If only because it means we might finally solve the mystery of how we can be together.”
“And find out where Pops went.”
“Right so. Priorities,” he said. “Grandfather comes first. Book second. You and me third. A close third.”
“All right, but if we’re going to work together, even for a day, I need to set some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” he repeated. “I have a crown. Ground rules are for people who don’t have crowns.”
“It’s a coronet, not a crown. And even dukes have to followsomerules.”
“Tell that to the first Duke of Buckingham.”
I began pacing. “Ground rule number one. No kissing me. Or me kissing you. Or anything more than kissing. Or even less.”
“Less? I’m doing less than kissing you now.”
“You know what I mean. No looking at me like you want to kiss me.”
“So I should wear a blindfold? I could be persuaded.” He grinned.
“Less,” I shouted at him. “Less than that!”
“That’s not a rule. That’s torture.”
“Ground rule number two—no declarations of love.”
