"Gentlemen," came the voice of Sir Geoffrey Morton from behind them, "we have a contest to win, and we have yet to agree the teams."
"Blast," said the colonel. "Come on then. May as well get this over with."
???
By the time Elizabeth reached the east gallery with Jane and Mrs Cartwright, the contest had been underway for nearly a quarter of an hour, and one object had already been found.
That unexpected triumph belonged to Miss Harrington. The first clue had read,A neat hand hides me, a careless hand displays me; I am made in silence and most often noticed only when I fail.Lady Frances had come to stitch after only a coupleof minutes of thinking.And Elizabeth had sent Miss Harrington, Miss Lacey and Miss Grey towards the drawing room, where the workbasket and embroidered cushions had seemed the likeliest places to begin.
They had scarcely been gone five minutes before Miss Harrington returned. "Found," she announced, holding up a small sampler between finger and thumb, her smile small and more than a little smug. She turned it over to display the small card marked ‘HS’.
Elizabeth had been too relieved to question the speed of it. Miss Lacey had written stitch beneath the first clue, though she did so with a slight frown, and Miss Grey had looked once over her shoulder towards the corridor, where a footman was carrying an empty tray away from the drawing room. They heard a cry of victory from the gentlemen and Elizabeth had taken Jane and Mrs Cartwright to the east gallery to pursue the second clue.
I am spent, kept, lost and watched, though no purse can hold me.
"It must be time," said Jane, as they considered the paper.
"Yes, of course! Very good, Jane," said Elizabeth. "Now we must discover what Lady Hortensia has used to represent it."
She had chosen the gallery because Clara had remembered seeing several timepieces there the previous evening: a tall clocknear the far window, a smaller ormolu clock beneath a hunting portrait and a cabinet full of curious little objects. They set to work. Jane inspected the little clock and the table beneath it, while Elizabeth examined the cabinet near the window. Mrs Cartwright moved more slowly than either of them, but she was incredibly thorough. She looked inside vases and under shelves, even lifting candlesticks to check they did not hide any secrets.
At the far end of the gallery, the gentlemen were making more noise as they worked on their second clue.
"I tell you, Ashcombe, it is a thimble," said Sir Geoffrey with a huff, as his companion insisted strenuously that it must be a hunting horn. Mr Hadley wandered ahead of them, humming to himself and looking as though he were enjoying a morning stroll rather than conducting a treasure hunt.
Mrs Cartwright was attempting to lift a flowerpot, and he rushed over immediately to assist. "My dear lady, please let me help you."
"Hadley," Mr Ashcombe called, "you are assisting the competition."
Mr Hadley gave an abashed smile, ensuring she had inspected the area beneath the object to her satisfaction before returning to his party. "It seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do," Elizabeth heard him mumble.
"Miss Bennet," said the colonel, appearing beside a painting of a gentleman in a green coat. "How do you fare?"
Jane smiled at him. "Very well, sir. We have already located our first object."
"I am unsurprised that you are more than equal to the task."
"You are most kind, Colonel, but I assure you I have been very little help so far."
Elizabeth glanced at her sister. "Jane, unless the gentleman has an hourglass concealed in his coat, I beg you not to be drawn into consultation."
The colonel looked wounded. "Miss Elizabeth, you misjudge me. I am simply being cordial."
"Pray, sir, please go and be cordial elsewhere. We are in the midst of a challenge and you are on the opposing team"
From the other end of the room Mr Darcy’s voice carried, low and controlled. "Richard."
The colonel straightened, though not before giving Jane one last look of amusement. "Duty calls."
Jane coloured, and the colonel returned reluctantly to the gentlemen, while Jane bent over the nearest table with an air of studied concentration that did not fool Elizabeth for a minute. She shook her head and returned to her own search.
Mrs Cartwright, who had ignored most of the commotion in favour of the little table beneath a hunting scene, made a small sound. "Miss Elizabeth."
Elizabeth crossed to her at once. The ormolu clock stood in the centre of the table, flanked by two candlesticks and a porcelain bowl of dried rose leaves. Mrs Cartwright had lifted the bowl and was peering into the narrow space between the clock and the wall.
"There is something tucked behind it," she said. "Not the clock itself. Behind the plinth."
Elizabeth leaned in carefully and saw the edge of a small card. She moved the clock just enough to reach behind it, then drew out a tiny brass hourglass no taller than her thumb. A card marked H.S. hung from its neck by a thin piece of thread.
