“What is this?” But I already knew.
“Call it a birthday present. I noticed the date on the documents. You are five and twenty today. Happy birthday, Veronica.” Still I stared at the packet in my hand, almost unable to comprehend what he had done. “Those are the original papers proving your identity,” he told me gently. “Both the papers your mother turned over to Max and the set the Harbottles left for you in the bank.”
For a long moment I could not speak, and when I did, the words came out in a torrent. “But I burned those! You saw me.”
“You burned the packet I gave you. That is what I was doing when you thought I was writing up my notes on the elephant mount. I was creating a dummy version for you to destroy. I did agree that destroying the packet was the only way to buy your freedom,” he assured me, “but I thought it would accomplish the same thing if you only appeared to destroy it.”
“But why—”
He looked into the distance, his gaze fixed far away. “Everyone deserves the truth, Veronica. What you do with it is your affair. But you should not have the choice made for you just because some people are frightened by the facts. Burn it, publish it, throw it in the Thames—the decision must be yours and no one else’s.”
I turned the packet over, running my finger across the tape. I thought of the lives damaged and destroyed by what it represented—my mother, dead of a broken heart. Prince Albert, my father, the baron—all had been touched by the truth in those lines. A high price had been paid for the actions of a boy not yet twenty and the girl he loved.
“It is time to let the ghosts rest in peace,” I said finally.
“You mean to destroy it, then?” he asked.
I slipped the packet into my pocket and put my arm through his. “Someday,” I told him. “But not just yet. For now it is enough that I have it and we are safe. Now, back we go to Bishop’s Folly, where we can begin to plan our museum. It’s a pity Lord Rosemorran’s grand elephant was destroyed in the fire. It would have made a lovely piece for the entrance.”
“The entrance!” The firm muscle of his arm twitched in outrage. “You must be mad. That elephant would have been my masterpiece. He has another, even larger, and this one I will finish, and when I do, it will go in the center of the museum as the star attraction.”
“Of all the ludicrous ideas,” I began.
We bickered happily all the way back to Bishop’s Folly, as I had expected we would. Whatever Stoker and I undertook, we should never do so without a feisty discussion and a pitched battle of wits. But, far from discomfiting me, that notion caused my spirits to rise and my steps to quicken with anticipation. Exploration beckoned and we would answer its clarion call to continents uncharted and seas unsailed; we would travel them together and perhaps even unravel a mystery or two as well. A thousand adventures lay before us, and I could not wait to begin them. As the excellent Arcadia Brown, Lady Detective, so often proclaimed, “Excelsior!”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to offer my heartfelt gratitude for all those who have contributed to this book.
Kindnesses and professional generosity have been extended by: Susanna Kearsley, Lauren Willig, Robyn Carr, Benjamin Dreyer, Erica Monroe, Delilah Dawson, Holly Faur, Ali Trotta, Christine Rose Elle, Alan Bradley, Paula Breen, the Writerspace team, and Dr. Rory Schwan.
Most particularly, I owe a tremendous debt to Blake Leyers for her skill and support in shepherding this project through the early days and its many incarnations.
Many thanks to my former home, MIRA/Harlequin, and to my new publishing family at Penguin/NAL. Particular thanks to Kara Welsh, Craig Burke, Claire Zion, Leslie Schwartz, Diana Kirkland, and Sharon Gamboa for an exceptionally warm welcome. I am especially grateful to Daniel Lagin, Colleen Reinhart, and Anthony Ramondo for their extraordinary efforts to make this book as beautiful as I imagined it could be. For her innumerable gifts and peerless skill, my editor, Ellen Edwards, deserves all the praise and thanks I can offer.
What I owe my parents, my daughter, and most especially my husband can never be expressed, much less repaid.
As ever, many thanks to the readers, booksellers, librarians, and lovers of books who share their enthusiasm.
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