Page 57 of His Wicked Charm

“Who?” Con blurted.

“Kalhoul—he is my contact on the Other Side. My mentor and adviser.”

“Ah. I see.”

“But of course Alma paid no attention to me. They never do, you know. It’s the curse of Cassandra.” She shook her head.

Con pulled the conversation back on course. “Mrs. LeClaire, why did you say it made sense that the key would belong to Lilah’s father? What does it open?”

“I don’t know.” Vesta shrugged. “I just assumed...because Barrow House was where the Brotherhood always met.”

“The Brotherhood?” Con straightened.

“Yes. Niles, Virgil and Hamilton. They called themselves some silly name. The Brothers of the Blessed. The Blessed Brotherhood. Something like that.”

“What was this brotherhood? What did they do?” Con asked, the familiar excitement of having found a trail rising in him.

“I’ve no idea.” Vesta spread her hands out, palms up.

“It sounds like something religious,” Lilah offered. “The Blessed.”

“Niles?” Aunt Vesta chuckled. “I wouldn’t think so. No, I think it was just some foolishness that started with our fathers.”

“So their fathers started the Brotherhood?” Con asked.

“I think so, and the boys continued it. Family tradition...that sort of thing. Papa was great chums with their fathers. I’m sure they wanted their sons to continue. And, of course, men do love their little clubs and rituals, don’t they? I’m sure you understand, dear boy.” She smiled archly at Con. “It wasn’t as if the club was a great chore. They simply met on the old festivals every year.”

“The old festivals?” Con asked.

“Yes, you know. All Hallows’ Eve, Midsummer’s Eve, winter solstice, spring equinox.”

Con’s jaw dropped. “They were, um...”

“Witches?” Vesta laughed. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t think so. But Papa had a great respect for the old ways, the ancient religions. I imagine he thought it appropriate to gather then. Of course, it’s true that one feels the Source’s power more at those times.”

“You said they had rituals,” Con put in before Vesta could launch into a discourse about mystical forces. “What sort of rituals?”

“I don’t know, really. I just meant in general secret societies have handshakes, passwords, rings, that sort of thing, don’t they? But I’ve no idea what Virgil and his friends did. I was a great deal younger than they of course.” She gave a dimpling smile to Con, but it was bitterness that tinged her tone as she went on, “And they would never include a mere female into their little circle.”

“My father never told you anything about it?” Lilah asked. “Never gave a hint?”

Vesta tilted her head to the side, thinking. “No, dear. I’m sorry, but Virgil rarely said anything about the visits except that sometimes he complained because it interfered with his plans. I assumed they just drank themselves silly.”

“A key would be the sort of thing a group like this would have,” Con mused. “To the entrance to a ceremonial room, perhaps.”

“A secret room?” Vesta glowed. “How exciting.”

“I should have realized. When I first saw this house, I thought it would be the perfect place to hide something. Forget Carmoor.” Con grinned at Lilah. “Tomorrow we’re going to explore Barrow House.”

* * *

LILAH AND CON began their search the next day in the newest wing of the house, going into every room, examining mantels and knocking on walls. By the end of the afternoon, even Con was tiring of the task.

“It would take us years to find anything in here,” Lilah said, sinking down onto one of the chairs. “We haven’t even finished this wing.”

“The house does have a great many nooks and crannies,” Con agreed. “And your family had an inordinate fondness for stairs. Perhaps we should narrow our focus tomorrow.” He reached out his hand to her. “But come. I’m sure your aunt is waiting for us.”

As Con had predicted, Aunt Vesta was sitting by the tea cart, ready to pepper them with questions about their search.