“Rebecca. She is gone. She left this for me, but I cannot make sense of it.” She began weeping, then stomped her foot hard, closed her eyes, and stopped the tears through sheer force of will.
He took the paper and embraced her. With her tucked against his body, he read the paper over her shoulder. His arms felt strong and good. His warmth bathed her in comfort. She allowed herself to be weak against him, and trusted strength would return as a result and she would not succumb to the chaos threatening her mind.
“It says that they told her to write that they want the treasure your brother took. What does she mean, Eva?”
“I do not know.”She took a deep breath. “He had nothing. No treasure. Would we have lived like this if he did? It is nonsense. Some fools must have heard a stupid rumor, and now—” She looked up as a thought sliced through her worry. “Do you think these are the same men who tore this house to pieces when we were gone?”
“I think that they are. It appeared someone searched for something. Perhaps it was this treasure these men want.” He pondered that. “It is an odd word.Treasure. Not money or another word for blunt. Treasure suggests something precious and valuable.” He looked at the letter again, and read it aloud.
My dear sister,
I must write quickly, they say. I speak of the men who now stand around me and direct my pen. They arrived this afternoon, saying they came to take what our brother had left for them. When I expressed ignorance, they insisted on entering.
They are sure you know the whereabouts of what they speak. I hope so, because I am to go with them until you bring this treasure or its secure location to them. When you are ready to do either, you are to leave a letter with the proprietor of the Four Swans in Henley.
The one I think is the leader just said to write that you have his word that I will not be molested. Nor will I be harmed if you conclude our brother’s business with him. He even promises you will have Nigel’s fair share, as first agreed. If you go to the magistrate, however, you will get nothing, including me. I have explained that you are one woman alone in the world, and not given to bravery, and that you will do what you can, especially if you will get a share.
Do not worry too much for me, Eva. The leader seems somewhat intelligent, and fairly educated. As for my safety and virtue, I have my own ways of protecting myself.
Your loving sister.
“What does she mean, her own ways of protecting herself?” Gareth asked.
“Knowing Rebecca, she probably thinks the rightness and logic of her moral arguments will sway them.” No sooner had she spoken than another possibility jumped to mind. No. Surely not.
She broke out of Gareth’s embrace and ran up the stairs and into her bedchamber.
The trunk that held her winter wardrobe stood open. She dropped to her knees and pawed through it, hoping she was wrong. Gareth followed her in.
“It is gone,” she said. “The pistol. They must have let her get some clothes, and she sneaked in and took that too. The powder, the balls—all of it is gone.”
“Her kidnappers may have taken it, not her.”
Perhaps, but Eva did not think so. “I hope she is not so stupid as to try and use it. She has never shot before, Gareth. She will probably load wrong and kill herself.”
Strong, gentle hands lifted her to her feet. “She is not stupid, so she probably will not do anything more than tuck it under her mattress. If it makes her feel less vulnerable and frightened, it is good she has it. Now, come with me. We will go back to Albany Lodge. There we will eat something, and put our minds to solving this mystery of the treasure.”
Eva allowed him to guide her down to the carriage. Once back at his house, she even let him find some food for them both. Left to her own devices, she would not have eaten, or bothered with the small talk that he used to distract her during their meal. Shewould have sat in her library, staring at Rebecca’s letter, feeling helpless.
After dinner Gareth lit lamps in the library. He sat her down on the divan—there was no other way to describe how he drew her there, turned her, and pressed her into place. Then he collected all the pictures and stacked them away.
Finally, he poured out of a decanter and carried the glass to her.
She took it and he sat beside her.
“Brandy again?”
“You need it. Your coloring is ashen, and your eyes are like glass.”
“The last time I put myself under your protection and drank your brandy, I woke in your bed. Am I in danger of that again?”
He lifted her hand so the glass pressed her lips. “Yes. Not now, not tonight, but yes.”
She sipped. “I will say this for you, Gareth. You always give fair warning.”
“Anything less would be dishonorable.”
He waited for her to finish the brandy, then took the glass from her and set it aside. He submerged her in a warm embrace and held her while the spirits slowly untied the knots in her body.
