Page 65 of Impetuous

“Oh, yes,” Cassandra said with a teasing smile, walking with him toward their horses, a little relieved that he had gone no further. She, too, was in turmoil over her feelings and desire. “I know that you must be most anxious for your afternoon tête-à-tête with Cousin Joanna.”

Philip groaned in response. Joanna had countered their frequent absences by practically pouncing on Philip every afternoon at tea and during the evening. He could not sit without her sitting next to him or move without her following, and any conversation with anyone else among their guests was always interrupted by Joanna after no more than two or three sentences.

“You minx,” Philip retorted feelingly. “You never do the slightest thing to help me, either, I’ve noticed.” They had reached their horses, and he untied them, handing Cassandra her reins.

“Why, you’re a grown man,” Cassandra responded with a laugh as Philip helped her back up into her saddle. “I am sure that you can handle a five foot, two inch woman.” She gave him a look of bland innocence.

Philip snorted inelegantly. “She may not be tall, but she’s got the damnedest long reach I’ve ever seen in a woman.”

With a laugh, Cassandra dug in her heels, and they started back toward the house.

* * *

AS THE DAYS passed, though, they grew more and more disheartened by their inability to find the “Queens Book.” They had come across a few biographies of Queen Elizabeth, as well as one about Queen Anne, but since Anne had not even been on the throne yet when Margaret fled England, and the two about Elizabeth had been written in the last hundred years, it obviously was none of those three. They had even looked through every history of England written before Margaret’s time, although Cassandra could not see why any of them would have been called a “Queens Book.” They had worked their way through the loft of the library and started on the bottom floor, but Cassandra was beginning to worry. The books on the lower level were all much more recent. Few of them had been written before Margaret’s elopement. The loft was the place where they should have found it.

Still, they kept on looking until finally one day they reached the end of the shelves of the lower level. Discouraged, they sat down and looked at each other.

“It’s not here.” Philip stated the obvious.

Cassandra sighed. “Is there anywhere else your family might have put any books?”

“My father and grandfather were not really readers. I suppose they could have taken out some of the old books and stored them in the attic. Ones that didn’t look as nice as the others. Their interest in the library was purely aesthetic. Father used it primarily as a cigar-and-brandy room.”

Cassandra groaned at the thought of digging through another huge attic.

“Worse, I am afraid that it might have been thrown away,” he added discouragingly.

“But we cannot find the treasure without the second map!” Cassandra wailed. “I have looked at the other map till my eyes crossed, and I can’t make sense of it.”

“I know. Neither can I. I cannot connect that drawing to any place around here. I shall ask my mother if she remembers Father getting rid of some of the old books or storing them in the attic.”

It was galling to think that they had done so much work and gotten so close, only to be thwarted in the end by the sheer passage of time. Philip hated to admit defeat at any time, and it was frustrating to think that their mystery might never be solved. But worst of all, he realized, was that if they had to give up on finding the treasure, Cassandra would return home.

Desperate, he cast about in his mind for some solution. Suddenly he sat up straight, light dawning in his eyes. “Of course! Why didn’t we think of it earlier? The nursery!”

“What? What about the nursery?”

“The schoolroom. There are lots of old books there. Father would never have bothered to do anything about them. And where would you be likelier to find a book about queens than the schoolroom?”

Revived, they launched an all-out search of the schoolroom bookshelves and closets, accompanied by all four of the younger set. But, again, at the end they had to admit defeat. Though the schoolroom had contained many more books concerning various queens, as well as quite a few remarkably old books, none of them had proved to have any sort of map inside them.

Cassandra sat back with a sigh. “Well, I guess there’s nothing for it but to search the attics, then.”

Philip nodded. “I’ll ask Mother and Grandmother if they know of any other place where there might be old books stored.”

That evening before supper he went to his mother’s bedroom. He found her in her dressing gown, sitting in front of the vanity. Her maid was repinning her hair. Violet turned, delighted, when he came in.

“Philip! Darling!” She held out both her hands to him. “How nice. Do you remember when you were little how you used to come see me when I was getting ready for supper?”

“Of course. It is one of my fondest memories.”

“Come, sit down.” She gestured toward a chair close to the vanity, then turned to her maid. “Finish pinning it up, Mary, and then you may leave. I shall ring you when I’m ready to finish dressing.”

They chatted of commonplace things for a few minutes while the maid deftly pinned the remainder of the curls. When she was done, she left the room, and Violet leaned forward, smiling, and patted her son on the knee. “Now, what brought you here tonight?”

“Can’t a son come visit his mother?”

“Yes. You visit me often—in my sitting room or the drawing room or any of a number of rooms in the house. But since this is the one room in which you are assured that no one might unexpectedly come in on us, I assumed you wanted privacy.”