The Case of the Chinese Boxes (A Justice and Miss Quinn Mystery Book 4)

by Felicia Rogers

  “Not at all. Your father sings your praises often.”

  So the man had heard tales that might sway a suitor. Jules was at it again. Justin needed to speak to the fellow on the hunting trip. The man didn’t need to find Magnolia a suitor—her future husband was right in front of him.

  “I feel at a decided disadvantage, because I know nothing about you.”

  Justin could have wrung Magnolia’s neck! She was deliberately being charming for Mr. Shelby!

  The gentleman laughed under his breath. “Perhaps we should take this weekend to rectify that situation.”

  Magnolia beamed. “I appreciate the offer, but I fear I’ll be reading most of the holiday.”

  “Oh, reading? You mean you don’t intend to hunt with us?”

  “Miss Quinn doesn’t enjoy hunting. Isn’t that right, dear?”

  She narrowed her eyes and drew her brows downward. Oh no, had his statement just issued a challenge? That might not be good for him.

  “I fear that Mr. Blakemoor is correct. Hunting doesn’t really pose enough challenge for me.”

  Now the other guests were listening. Had she just insulted everyone in the room? Father was going to kill him.

  Judge Filmore Tilly shook his head, sending his jowls to shaking. “Not enough challenge, you say? And reading is a challenge. Why, I could read all day and yet I couldn’t feed my family with it.”

  Vernon lifted his hand. “Now Filmore, let’s not judge the young lady too harshly. She deserves to have her own opinion.”

  Magnolia glowed under Vernon’s praise. He would need to get her away from the cabin and him as soon as possible.

  “I didn’t mean to insult hunters, Judge Tilly, only that hunting requires multiple skills that I’m lacking. A better challenge for me would be to read.”

  “Humph.”

  The judge didn’t seem to completely believe her, but at least he was letting the subject drop. Mr. Quinn’s shoulders drooped as if he relaxed. His own father hadn’t moved a muscle since the conversation began.

  “I could assist you in learning those skills. I’ve been told I’m an expert rider.” Vernon popped a scone into his mouth.

  Magnolia dipped her head, as if she was shy, which he knew was not the case.

  “Thank you. I will consider your offer.”

  At that time Mrs. Hamby arrived with extra tea and scones. He couldn’t have been more relieved to be interrupted. The trip was not getting off to a good start.

  Chapter Three: Afternoon Festivities

  Afternoon tea lingered into the evening meal and then degenerated into languishing by the fire and gossiping. After the men in attendance had enjoyed a few rounds of liquor, Vernon Shelby drew out a violin. He was talented and she enjoyed the display, but really she wanted to return to her room. The book waited. It would be difficult to decipher by candlelight, but she still wanted to try.

  Mr. Shelby struck up a reel, and Justin offered his arm. He looked handsome in his gray dinner jacket and white cravat. And he would be holding her in his arms. She could hardly refuse.

  They moved along the narrow emptiness between furniture. Justin smiled as if a cat who had eaten the canary. Why was he so happy? Proud of himself? Probably because she’d yet to embarrass him before his father’s business partners. She understood.

  Justin released her and she was held by the Judge. She ran through each guest. Her lungs burned with exertion. Her feet felt ready to fall off.

  She grabbed her chest and held up her other hand. “I fear I’m done in.”

  Mr. Shelby ended the song. “But I didn’t get a dance.”

  “Mr. Shelby, without you there will be no music.” Justin sounded delighted with the turn of events.

  “Don’t be concerned, Mr. Blakemoor.”

  Vernon sang. His voice sounded as if a choir filled the longhouse. He could reach highs and lows without effort. The dance was slower, which suited her perfectly. When they stopped everyone erupted in cheers.

  “Mr. Shelby, you’ve been holding back quite a talent.”

  “Mr. Shelby, sing another.”

  Magnolia moved away. Mr. Shelby’s voice had elevated her to another plane. She’d felt mesmerized. Then she saw Justin. His face was a mask of perplexity. She couldn’t tell whether he’d enjoyed their performance or whether he was angry. Then there was the one thing she really wanted to think about—the book.

  “If you’ll excuse me. I think I shall retire.”

  Mr. Shelby grabbed her hand and kissed the back. “Until tomorrow.”

  The stubble on his chin tickled, and she rubbed her tingling hand against the back of her skirt. If she was free to love, she might have been affected by Vernon Shelby’s charms. But her heart was taken. Right? Oh, butter and biscuits! Love was confusing!

  “Thank you for an enjoyable evening.”

  He winked. “It was my pleasure.”

  Oh how her heart fluttered! “I best go to my room.” She took one step back.

  “Of course.”

  Did his eyes darken? Why did he stare at her so?

  She swallowed. She must think of the book. The book and nothing else.

  She turned on her heel and fled to her room.

  ****

  Justin barely kept his anger in check. Vernon had played as if a professional and sang as if an angel. How could he compete with such talent?

  “She is a lovely young lady, Mr. Quinn.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Shelby. Sometimes she can be a little vocal, but she is a good child.”

  “Sometimes vocalness is to be admired.” Vernon looked longingly at the stairs.

  What was happening? He’d brought Magnolia along as his companion, not as someone to be ogled by other gents!

  “And sometimes it is to be admonished.” The judge crossed his arms over his barrel-shaped chest. Justin felt pity for the horse that had to carry him on the hunt.

  “I like a young woman who speaks her mind.”

  Roskin popped a sweet meat into his mouth and licked his fingers. “You wouldn’t like that one. She speaks and involves herself in matters better left to men. The young Blakemoor can tell you.”

  All eyes faced him. Now he was in a predicament. Did he tell them that Magnolia was a bore to trifle with or did he say how wonderful she was and let them pursue her as well? The competition from Vernon alone was staggering. He couldn’t handle it if everyone decided to vie for her attention.

  ****

  The door clicked closed behind her. She rushed to the bed, lifted the mattress, and pulled the book free. The cover had bent back, but other than the one imperfection, it appeared the same.

  She used the fire to light a candle. She settled the candle on the table, careful to keep the book far from the dripping wax.

  Carefully she opened the book. Some words were so blurry she couldn’t make them out. Others were written in a language she didn’t understand. Only one paragraph in the rear made sense.

  My Detka,

  This book is for you, as is the yashchiki. I’ve hidden them in the old cabin. They contain a very special treat, just for you. Do not forget—the yashchiki belong to you.

  Love, Mama

  Magnolia tapped her finger to her chin. Detka and yashchiki must be Russian words. But would Miranda have written them? She vaguely remembered Justin’s mother speaking Russian on the few occasions she caught them doing something they shouldn’t. But this book looked more as if it was a gift to Miranda instead of belonging to her.

  She tapped her foot. Justin spoke a few Russian words, his father more. But there was no way she was explaining her find to Mr. Blakemoor—at least not yet. The elder Blakemoor was not as relaxed as Justin.

  Then again, if she asked Justin he’d want to know why she asked. Perhaps she could trick him into answering. Maybe she could convince him to go on a ride and while out mention the old cabin. It would be a simple matter to go inside and look for the yashchiki. Even though she didn’t know what it meant.

  Sh
e stifled a yawn. The ride to the country had been long and quiet. Lenoir had been scheduled to come with her but had taken with a sudden illness before their departure. Father had planned to start later in the day and ride with friends. He hadn’t wanted her on the night roads. If he only knew…

  She removed her gown and corset, leaving only her chemise. She missed Lenoir terribly. Getting dressed in the morning was going to be quite the chore.

  Beneath the quilts she opened the book again. Most of the words were foreign and looking at them over and over wasn’t helping her decipher them any quicker.

  She stuffed the book underneath the mattress and blew out the candle on the bedside table. Moonlight filtered through the window. A yawn spread her jaw. Tomorrow would be soon enough to search for the answers to the mystery Justin’s grandmother had left behind.

  Chapter Four: The Ride

  Justin leaned back and laid his arm behind Magnolia. The longue was lumpy and a spring poked his backside, but the company outweighed the discomfort.

  He sipped sherry. His head pained from the overabundance of liquor the night before, but Magnolia looked refreshed—beautiful. He’d hoped to reveal his feelings on the holiday, but after the Hesper debacle he thought he should wait at least until his wits were about him.

  Heat bathed the side of his body. At least Magnolia hadn’t moved away.

  While the hunting party scoured the land for birds or foxes or some such wild beast, he was hunting for much finer prey. Prey that smelled like magnolias.

  “Justin?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you listening?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Don’t be smart. You’re not paying attention to one word I’ve said. If you’re daydreaming about Miss Rotherham, I shall be cross.”

  He sensed jealousy. That was a good sign. “Hardly.”

  “If not, then whom? I know when you are distracted.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You do?”

  The holiday was about wooing Magnolia. He’d played coy the night before, but now he was ready to make his intentions known, at least once the fog in his brain cleared away. He must do it before Vernon Shelby got any more ideas. The thirty-five-year-old bachelor hadn’t just swooped in to his hunting cabin to take Magnolia from him. He wouldn’t allow it.

  “Justin, I’ve known you for fourteen years of my life and you have very specific actions when you’re distracted.”

  He smoothed hair off her shoulder. “Such as?”

  “First of all you try to distract me.” She leaned forward and placed her drink on the low table.

  The longue was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. “Perhaps we should move outside. Maybe go for a ride.”

  She threw her hands up in the air. “That is what I was saying all along.” She was exasperated. He understood. Her beauty was robbing him of sense. But at least he thought along the same lines as her—that was a plus.

  “So you want to go for a ride?” He could take her to the dilapidated cabin that they had used before. She would love all the vines and purple flowers growing around it.

  She pushed up. “Give me a few minutes to prepare.”

  He should pull on his riding boots and find his hat and crop. He would keep up pretenses that they were just friends, but it wouldn’t be much longer now. Soon he would tell her his true feelings. There was no mystery to distract him now.

  ****

  With the help of Mrs. Hamby, Magnolia changed into her riding habit. When the cook left, she drew on her riding gloves and glanced at herself in the looking glass.

  The outfit was new. Father had purchased it when they were invited on the hunting trip. She’d been surprised but quickly realized his intent. First, the purchase showed the Londoners that he wasn’t destitute. He was going on holiday and purchasing new clothes. Second, it ensured her attendance. He probably feared leaving her at home. Over the summer she’d been involved in catching a dangerous criminal, setting a mansion on fire, and been accused of stealing jewelry. Without his guidance he probably feared she’d be in the gaol. Little did he know that Justin was the instigator and that he’d brought them right back together.

  The book caught her eye. This time she would be the instigator.

  She snatched the book off the bed and stuffed it in the purse that hung from her waist.

  Justin had a keen eye. She needed to make him look away from the filled purse and at something else.

  Hair draped around her face. She wrapped a strand around her finger and created a ringlet that bounced with movement. That should do nicely. When she was finished, several ringlets framed her face.

  She tugged the leather gloves higher on her wrist and drew in a deep breath. Convincing Justin to take her to another cabin should be easy, right?

  She drew her shoulders back as she went downstairs and entered the living area. Justin waited at the window. Sunlight reflected off his golden hair. His shoulders stretched the limits of his riding jacket. His Hessian boots shone with a fresh shine. He was handsome. She almost wished that she could tell him how she felt. Now would be a good time. They were away from the hustle and bustle of town. They were mostly alone; Mrs. Hamby hummed at the other side of the long room, preparing lunch no doubt.

  But the mystery, the book. She needed to know what it meant first.

  He turned. His brown eyes darkened. She couldn’t look away.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded; speech would be too much and would reveal her feelings in an instant.

  He held out his hand and she took it. Warmth drifted up her arm as he squeezed.

  “Manifred has saddled two horses, and I had Mrs. Hamby prepare a picnic lunch in case we were out overly long.”

  “Sounds as if you’ve thought of everything.” She’d been able to think of little since finding the book. And now he was ruining her concentration. Why did she notice his handsomeness and charm now!

  He led her outside and helped her mount. The gentle beast remained calm, and she rubbed its light tan coat.

  Justin climbed on his own horse. A broad smile covered his face, causing her heart to race. Revealing her feelings soon was definitely in order.

  “Shall we go?”

  She nodded.

  They set a slow pace. Weaving through the tall pines along a narrow trail kept her stiff. She feared falling off. If she’d been a little braver she might have asked to ride with Justin. He would have wrapped his arms around her waist and she could have relaxed.

  Finally, the woods opened into a field. Tall grass, interspersed with wildflowers, swayed in the wind.

  “Is this where the fellows are hunting?”

  He pointed into the distance. “Down that way actually.”

  “Where are we going?” Should she ask about the cabin?

  “Well I thought we’d visit the old cabin. The wildflowers that are blooming there are heavenly.”

  Her heart soared! He’d offered to take her there and she hadn’t even had to ask. The mystery was meant to be solved—she could feel it.

  ****

  Justin had noted Magnolia relaxing as soon as they entered the field. He should have remembered her fear of riding in enclosed spaces. He could have put her on his horse without explanation.

  He ached to hold her. He should have insisted on a slow song for himself the night before, then he’d have had a reasonable excuse. Instead he’d been forced to watch her dally in the arms of Vernon Shelby. It rankled.

  He glanced at Magnolia. Ringlets of hair danced around her head. He wished he could grab a curl and tug like when they were children, but growing up changed things. He was supposed to be mature. Who had made such a foolish rule?

  Wind lifted Magnolia’s curls, giving them more bounce than seemed prudent. He gazed skyward. Black clouds floated overhead. Lightning struck the ground and thunder reverberated across the sky. A storm brewed on the horizon. They might have ten minutes before it reached them.

  The o
ld cabin was close, but he feared that Magnolia wouldn’t ride hard enough to reach it in time.

  “Justin?” Her eyes widened. She was afraid.

  He wouldn’t stand for that. “Let’s stop for a moment.”

  “Stop? We can’t stop!”

  He leaned over and grabbed her reins, pulling her horse to a halt alongside his. Then he clasped her waist and lifted.

  She gasped as he settled her before him. “Now be still.” His voice was husky. He couldn’t control his reaction to her nearness. He was in heaven.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face there. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. She really did smell like magnolia blooms.

  Rain pelted his shoulders and seeped into the collar of his shirt. Soon his vision would be impaired and he wouldn’t be able to find the cabin.

  “I want you to hold on. And no matter what don’t lift your head.”

  She nodded. The cool touch of her lips graced his neck, and he drew in a swift breath. Maybe he should have told her to move, but if she saw the mass of rain headed for them she would be scared, and he wouldn’t have that.

  Chapter Five: The Hunting Cabin Two

  Justin smelled of woods and soap. Rain ran down his neck, and she forced herself not to kiss the moistened area. He thought them friends and nothing more. During a storm and possible death wasn’t a time to change that—or was it?

  Thunder rocked the ground. She gasped and squeezed his neck—hard.

  “I can’t breathe.”

  She relaxed her grip—a little.

  Thunder rumbled again, and she parted her lips and closed her eyes. They were going to die and he would never know how she felt.

  She would tell him. “Justin, I— “

  “I see the cabin. Hold on just a moment longer.”

  His voice sounded strained, but he’d just saved her from potential embarrassment. Because though she liked him, he might not like her. Then what?