Enchanting Ophelia Page 4

  Ophelia was about to signal Judith to her husband’s absence when her cousin held up Ophelia’s shawl. The edge brushed Sidney’s face, and he smiled. After thinking for a long time, he announced, “Bow to the cleverest person in the room, salute the wittiest, and kiss the one you love the best.”

  A trick.

  Would she kiss him in front of the company? Or would she defer on the basis of politeness or some other excuse?

  Whoever she chose for clever would leave others disappointed, so she made her choice by rank, bowing low to the duke. She next saluted Judith their hostess, and the company waited for her final choice. She looked around the room carefully, pretending that she might choose someone but Sidney, but in the end, she walked to him.

  The kiss was short, as it should be in company, but that didn’t make it any less thrilling. By the time—just seconds really—Sidney pulled away, she was breathless and warm as the group applauded.

  As Ophelia was gathering her breath, a servant approached from behind Judith and whispered in her ear. Judith paled then motioned for Millicent to take her place as the judge’s assistant. The next forfeit was a drawing by the younger Simms girl, and Sidney asked her to recite her favorite Bible verse. The Simmses nodded approvingly.

  Ophelia returned to her chair beside Mr. Simms, but while the others paid attention to Jessie Simms, then to her brother—who was to sing his favorite hymn—Ophelia watched Judith. Stepping outside the circle, Judith tapped her father on the shoulder, then Benjamin, and they all walked away from the group. Though Ophelia couldn’t tell what the conversation was about, she could easily read their faces and stances. The duke’s face changed slowly, from its normal austere distance to a fleeting sadness to resolve. He nodded his head at something Judith requested and left the room. Judith and Benjamin stood silently for a few moments, his hand on her shoulder. Judith stood, looking into the distance. With her arms folded across her body, she was clearly making a decision. Finally, she spoke to Benjamin, and he returned to the circle and silenced the company.

  Judith’s voice when she spoke was measured and solemn. “As we are all family here, I have decided to share the information that we have just received. Alderson’s eldest son, Percival, was traveling by packet to Liverpool. We have learned that the ship has wrecked off the coast. There is no news yet of survivors.”

  Simms leaned into her ear. “The curse continues.” Then he raised his voice to be heard by the company. “As Alderson has received troubling news, perhaps we should set aside your plans for holiday games.”

  Judith considered silently for a moment. “No. Until we know that ours is a house of mourning, we will continue as planned. Alderson has games for every evening between now and Twelfth Night, and in particular, he has been looking forward to the hunt for some weeks. He’s even chosen the prizes for every possible winner as well as a special prize if you collaborate.” She paused, gathering her resources. “No, we will continue until it becomes clear that we should not. Tomorrow is Boxing Day, and in the morning, I will be delivering gifts to the village. But in the afternoon, we will gather here for the hunt.”

  The younger boys applauded, until a stern look from Benjamin silenced them.

  * * * *

  The next afternoon, they gathered in the dining hall. Though the adults were still somewhat subdued, the younger boys were eager to begin, and their enthusiasm spread quietly through their brothers and cousins.

  When Judith joined them, she was carrying two large flats of canvas. “Alderson and I prepared two maps to help you in your search. This one traces the outlines of the manor house and lands as it exists now. The original portions of the house appear in this dark blue, and each stage of additions appear in a progression of lighter blues. As you can see, the most recent additions are the palest.”

  “So, the transition from dark blue to light blue traces the various periods of construction,” Benjamin asked.

  “Correct. As you can see, this hall is at the center of the oldest portion of the house. It is also the room where the legend says Mistress Thorpe was last seen, with her treasure around her.” Judith waited while each person took a moment to study the map, then she placed the second piece of canvas beside the first on the table. “This second map shows the dimensions of the manor house as it would have looked in the time of Mr. Thorpe. If you compare this one to the first map, you can see some overlap. Portions of the original house have been demolished and replaced with newer construction. But underneath all of the house, whether old or new, is a robust set of underground chambers.”

  “Oooh! A dungeon! No wonder you have ghosts. Will we find instruments of torture? Were the prisoners walled into their cells and left to die?” Ariel proposed, having recently read a collection of Minerva Press novels given to her by Sidney.

  “That is your fault,” Ophelia whispered to Sidney.

  “I see it as promiscuous reading.” He pulled her to his side, whispering in her ear, “How else will she know that she doesn’t want to entomb someone in a dungeon if she hasn’t experienced the emotions vicariously through reading a novel?”

  She kept her voice low. “Did you make up that argument all by yourself?”

  “No, I stole it from Milton. You know, John Milton, civil servant under Cromwell, and the author of Paradise Lost.”

  “I do read.” Ophelia pointed Sidney’s attention back to the general conversation where the group was asking questions.

  “What’s that?” Ophelia’s brother, Tom, pointed to a part behind the house that Judith had crosshatched out. “Does that mean we ignore this whole area behind the house?”

  “Isn’t that the stables and mews?” Kate questioned.

  “Yes, you may ignore it.” Judith patted the spot with her hand. “Apparently the mews burned to the ground and were rebuilt from new materials about twenty years ago.”

  “What’s this?” Aidan pointed to a small blue spot near to the lake on the edge of the woods.

  “That’s a folly of some sort built shortly before Lord Thorpe was arrested. In his age, it had an elaborate roof and open beams, but today it’s little more than a foundation and some broken walls.”

  “I want to investigate that!” Edmund exclaimed.

  “In due time,” Judith cautioned. “I have one more piece of information to help you on your search. Her ladyship, before she sent the servants away, entrusted one with a letter to be delivered to her husband. But by the time the servant arrived in London, Jason Thorpe’s appeal had been denied, and he had been executed. So the letter eventually found its way into the hands of a distant relative.”

  “What did the letter say?” Clive, usually so quiet, spoke up.

  “The clues come down to us from a diary of a relative, not from the letter itself. As a result, there might be some ambiguity or simple misrepresentation in the record. The cousin says Mistress Thorpe wrote something like ‘from clay all treasures are born and to clay they return.’”

  “That sounds like a suicide to me,” Ophelia observed.

  “Mrs. Mason!” Mrs. Simms chided. “Why would you think of such a thing! It’s an abomination.”

  “I suppose my parents should have considered that before they named me after Shakespeare’s drowned girl.” Ophelia shrugged, though she was fast growing tired of the sanctimonious Simms.

  “It sounds like suicide to me too.” Kate lent her support to Ophelia, rolling her eyes behind Mrs. Simms’s back.

  “Her body was never found.” Tom carefully considered the problem from each side.

  “But her family never heard from her again.” Aidan cuffed Tom gently on the arm.

  “Perhaps she didn’t like her family and was grateful to escape from them.” Colin glanced quickly at Aaron, then just as quickly glanced away.

  “Perhaps she took the treasure with her rather than let Sneyd have it,” Seth proposed.

 
“I think she’s dead here, in the house or near it.” Ariel shook her head. “Otherwise, why would she haunt the place?”

  “Let’s return to the clue. ‘All treasures come from clay and return to it,’” Tom repeated, calling their attention back to Judith, who waited patiently for the conversation to settle.

  “It’s scripture. Ecclesiastes,” Maisie Simms said quietly. “All are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.”

  “That changes things somewhat, given that it’s not a statement original to her.” Tom nodded to the girl. “Good work, Maisie.” And the child beamed.

  “But what does that signify for our search? Are we looking for a tomb? Should we go to the village and inspect the churchyard?” Aidan stretched, lithe and lean as a barn cat.

  “This spot here.” Judith tapped the map. “This is the location of the old Catholic chapel. As you can see, our chapel is built over part of that old foundation, and our chapel dates to roughly the time of the Thorpe’s ownership of the house. But it’s far from the last place she was seen.”

  Benjamin leaned in to examine the map with Tom and Aidan. “We will need to be systematic. It will do no good to run from one place to the next.”

  The company nodded in approval.

  “Exactly!” Judith seemed pleased that the group had come to that conclusion without her direction. “To make the best use of our effort, I’ve categorized the best places to search, and I’ve asked Benjamin to lay out the plan with you.”

  Benjamin stepped forward. “We will begin in this room here.” He held out his arms to the room itself; then he pointed at the map to redirect their attention. “As you can see from the drawing, this room is at the center of the whole house. But as it was a Catholic stronghold, we will need to search for hidden passageways or compartments.”

  “Hidden passageways!” Rupert Simms exclaimed with a combination of fear and awe.

  “Gather round.” Benjamin laid some engravings on the table. “I’ve brought some examples of what to look for.”

  The younger boys rushed forward, but Aaron refused to give up his place at the front of the table. Instead, Tom and Aidan stepped back to let the younger boys to the front.

  Seeing that her hunt was being well managed, Judith joined Ophelia and Sidney to the side of the room. Her face looked worn and tired.

  “Any news?” Sidney asked gently.

  “No. Nigel has returned to Liverpool where he will wait until there is no more reason to wait.”

  “Are you certain Percival was on the boat?”

  “Yes. Some passengers who disembarked at London carried a letter for him to his solicitor. We received a packet from the firm this morning.”

  At the table, Benjamin finished his explanation of sixteenth-century architecture; then he assigned each member of the group a portion of the wall in the large room. When he released the group to search, he joined Ophelia, Sidney, and Judith by the door. “Are you two newlyweds joining the rest of us cousins in the search, or do you intend to merely stand and smile at one another?”

  “I’m happy smiling. What about you, darling?”

  “I find smiling at you very satisfying.”

  Benjamin shook his head in mock disgust. “Then I am returning to direct my troops in the hunt!”

  Chapter 4

  Almost an hour later, Kate and Ariel ran to the center of the room, where the map lay on the long table. “We found something! We found something!”

  As the others gathered round the central table, Benjamin pointed at the map. “Show us where.”

  Kate pointed to a nook beside one of the doorways, and Benjamin carefully penciled in an x. “It’s a hole, or a passage, or perhaps both. But it’s dark, and neither Ariel nor I wish to go inside.”

  “We’ll do it.” The youngest of the Somerville boys—Clive and Edmund—bounced excitedly while their slightly older brothers, Seth and Colin, waved their hands.

  “I’ll take the first pass.” Aaron pushed his way forward. “Where is it? If there’s treasure to be had—I mean a reward—I’ll have it first.” Though Kate was standing in front of the map, he pushed her aside, setting her off balance.

  Benjamin, moving quickly, caught, her and set her back on her feet. Aaron’s brothers looked at their cousin with sympathy, but none said anything. All knew from experience that if they were to speak up, Aaron’s behavior would only worsen.

  Kate glared at Aaron, then said sweetly, “Of course. Follow me. I think the passage is about the size of a man like you.”

  When Ophelia started to object, Kate gave her a look that said, “Trust me.” Kate led the way, followed closely by Aaron, and the rest of the group fell in line.

  The nook outside the door was tucked underneath the main staircase. Alongside the sides of the wooden stairwell, a series of admonitory scriptures were carved beneath elaborate woodwork reminiscent of Grinling Gibbons.

  “We noticed that this bit was bowed at one edge, so we pressed there.” Ariel pointed to a carved leaf.

  “And something clicked in the wall,” Kate said, feigning innocence. She moved out of the way as Aaron barreled forward. He stopped, staring at the hole.

  “Well, it’s about the size of a man, if that man were only three feet tall and thin,” Aidan jibbed, stepping back to avoid Aaron’s fist.

  “How do you get in there?” Aaron growled.

  “I think you have to crawl,” Kate said sweetly. “Look here.” She pointed at one of the carvings, an ornate image of a camel in front of a very low gate. “I believe it’s an illustration of that scripture in the New Testament about the camel and the needle.”

  “Mark 10,” Jessie Simms piped up from the back. “It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.”

  “Or Matthew 18,” Maisie Simms added.

  “It’s also in Luke, but not in John.” Rupert, the eldest, explained. The three Simms children looked happy to be of use.

  “Camel? Needle?” Aaron looked confused.

  “You have to go in on your knees,” Kate explained.

  Aaron glared, greedy for whatever treasure might be inside, or for whatever reward Alderson would offer, but unwilling to crawl on his knees to do it. He was an odd mixture of avariciousness and self-importance, and for a moment, those parts of his psyche warred with one another. In the end, self-importance won. “But there’s no need for a big man like me to try when one of the smaller boys can enter without crawling. Clive should go, or Edmund. They are both thin.”

  “Whoever goes, you must promise to share whatever you find with the rest of the party, and the treasure—if there is one—belongs to Coldmarsh House. Alderson wishes for any artifacts related to his family to remain with the house, but he will reward you well if you find Mistress Thorpe’s treasure.”

  All nodded their agreement, though Aaron’s was grudging.

  In the end, Judith provided a torch, and Clive, the youngest and slightest of the Somerville boys, inched his way into the opening on all fours. He’d push the torch in front of him a little, then crawl forward. His shoulders disappeared into the dark, then his body, followed by his knees, then his feet. It was as if the darkness were a monster, eating him in four large bites. After Clive was completely inside, the group heard a thud, and the hole grew black.

  “Clive! Clive?” Benjamin pressed to the front. “Give me a torch, Judith.”

  Aidan rushed to light another, then carried it forward to the hole. “I’ll go.”

  “No.” Benjamin reached for the torch. “I should have gone before.”

  “I’m just as stubborn, and I’m smaller. What matters is whether Clive is safe, not which of us is braver.”

  Benjamin conceded, and Aidan began to crawl his way in, but he stopped, and called back out. “It opens after a foot or two. Just a minute.” His fe
et disappeared as Clive’s had. “I can stand now. There’s dust on the floor, and nothing else. Spiders, but they are long dead. He’s not here.”

  “Is there another door?” Benjamin called into the passageway.

  “I’m looking,” Aidan called back.

  “Tell him to press the carving that looks like a man wearing leaves for a hat,” Someone from the back of the group directed.

  “Aidan, Clive says to press—” Benjamin stopped. He looked behind the group pressed around him.

  Following Benjamin’s lead, everyone turned to see Clive standing at the back of the group. He was covered with grime, holding a burnt-down torch.

  Clive shrugged at their questioning glances. He walked to the passage, dropped to his knees, and began to give Aidan instructions on how to find the way out. Once Aidan had found the appropriate trigger, Clive stood. “From inside that chamber, you can see that this wall is double.” He pressed his hand against the end of the wall in front of him. “I found the way out by accident: I leaned against the trigger when I looked up. But there are a series of notches carved into the wall that you can step on and hold. I think you might be able to climb the inside of the wall, if you aren’t too fat or too tall. But I didn’t try it, so I don’t know where you can get out up there—or if you do. Once I was behind the man’s head, I had several choices of ways to follow. I chose the first one and found myself inside the fireplace in the drawing room.”

  The chatter in the group rose excitedly until Benjamin held out his hands for quiet.

  “Tomorrow we will investigate further. In particular, we will have to pay special attention to the carvings of the scripture verses throughout the house. Apparently the Thorpes’ devotion to their faith led them to provide clues in a sort of scripture code. For now, however, we must dress for dinner.”

  * * * *