by Valerie King
Evelina gasped. “No, that cannot be.”
Rotherstone laughed. “You still have such confidence in the goodness of all your neighbors, to the last man?”
“I do,” she responded. “And I know your opinions to have been softened a trifle of late, for I believe you have been more content than ever to be going about in our society.”
He smiled, if sadly. “I am content because I have been so often in your company.”
“Rotherstone,” she said. “You should not say such things to me. That is, I am not in the least persuaded that you and I, that we should ever truly suit.”
“You may be right,” was all he was willing to say on that score, particularly since there was every possibility that she might desire to have nothing to do with him after tonight. Rotherstone said nothing more but turned his attention instead to another matter. If what he suspected was true, he needed to inform his cousin that Evelina was no longer in possession of the map.
* * * * * * * * *
Shortly after supper, as a majority of the dancers were returning to the ballroom, Rotherstone kept a keen watch on his cousin. The more he considered the possibility that Carfax had attacked Evelina, the more he saw that of all the treasure seekers, his cousin may have had the strongest motivation to do what he could to secure the treasure. Attempting to steal the map would have increased the chances that he could discover Jack Stub’s treasure first and even dispose of it before anyone was the wiser. The giving of a ball would provide a perfect opportunity to make a second attempt to secure the document. The entire neighborhood was here, imbibing a great deal of champagne, dancing, playing at cards and billiards, and were he to slip from the house during the later hours, who would be the wiser? Returning, were his absence even noted, he could claim any number of excuses to account for it.
If such were true, Rotherstone felt his cousin to be a great deal more clever than he had ever before understood.
As the evening progressed, Rotherstone went about as though he was half-foxed, tripping over things, bumping into people and talking with a slur to his words. He did this for his cousin’s benefit, hoping to lull Carfax into a belief he could do what he wished without interference. All the while, he followed after him.
Just before midnight, his cousin stole from the house and headed in the direction of the northwest wood. Rotherstone crept after him, taking great care not to be seen. Once Carfax entered the wood, Rotherstone hurried after him. He heard a horse whinny and was just in time to prevent Carfax from heading down a northerly and quite narrow lane.
“Hallo, cousin,” Rotherstone said, slurring his words a trifle as he took hold of the bridle. “Leaving your own ball? This is quite mysterious conduct. Where might you be going at this hour,” he hiccoughed for effect, “and with your house full of your neighbors and guests? You will be sadly missed.”
“What the deuce are you doing here?” Carfax said.
Rotherstone squinted his eyes. “Damned dark in these woods. Can scarcely see you. Are you poaching? Wait, I know what it is. You have taken up the smuggling trade, although I think you ought to have established yourself much nearer the coast.”
“You are being ridiculous, Gage. You are quite foxed. Go back to the house.”
“I mean to know where you are going,” he said, his words forming a single slurred string. “Where are you going?”
“If you must know, to see my little ‘bird of paradise’ in Maybridge.”
“Are there any such creatures in Maybridge?” Rotherstone asked, weaving on his feet. “I always though it the dullest village in the world. Besides, this lane travels north and Maybridge is southwest.”
“The devil take you,” Carfax said. “I have an assignation in Maybridge and felt it would be safest to take this route. You may follow if you like.”
Rotherstone, still holding the bridle, shook his head. “I think not. In fact, I intend to engage Sir Alfred, Mr. Crookhorn and Mr. Fuller in a game of hazard. I had thought you should join as well, since I mean to have my thousand pounds back tonight.”
The woods were dark, but still he could see the considering glitter in Carfax’s eyes. Believing he understood his hesitation, Rotherstone dropped his voice to a whisper and added, “There is one more thing I feel I ought to tell you. I confide in you because, well, damme, you are blood, after all.”
“What is it?” he asked, now sitting quietly in the saddle.
Rotherstone whispered, “I have the map. I forced Lady Evelina to give it to me. I mean to find the treasure for myself.” He hiccoughed loudly. “Good God, I am foxed. Well, well, have your bit of fun. I am returning to have my game of hazard. Although, I certainly hope the night will clear my head.”
With that he turned around, weaving slightly as he left the woods. He was not in the least surprised that Carfax followed after him.
***
Chapter Twelve
“This cannot be happening,” Evelina murmured as much to herself as to Lady Monceaux, who stood beside her.
“I fear that it is,” she responded.
Evelina felt so ill at what was going forward that tears kept burning her eyes. She was standing in the billiard room surrounded by at least three score of guests. The chamber was hot even with the windows thrown open. With every toss of the dice, she was jostled back and forth like an ocean wave that could not make up its mind in which direction to go.
Five of the neighborhood gentlemen played at hazard: Rotherstone, Sir Alfred, Mr. Fuller, Mr. Crookhorn and Colonel Carfax. Rotherstone had gathered a considerable stack of vowels before him, both Mr. Fuller and Mr. Crookhorn as well. The colonel, however, was known to have lost over a thousand pounds, and Sir Alfred’s losses were at this point beyond measuring.
Rotherstone continued to accept the vowels from both gentlemen, all the while appearing as though he were in his altitudes. Evelina, who had come to understand his habits well, knew he had scarcely imbibed a full cup of champagne, much less a sufficient quantity of any spirit to account for his slurred speech, lazy eyes and tendency to laugh and talk far too loudly than he ought. She believed he was merely pretending to be foxed. She recalled her conversation with him earlier, when he had said that he had lost the thousand pounds on Saturday night to a purpose. Understanding began to dawn.
“We must stop this madness,” Evelina said, addressing the lady next to her.
Lady Monceaux glanced at her. “No, I think not,” she said, appearing strangely calm. “I now see my husband for the first time. I see what he is.”
Evelina turned to hold her gaze. “What do you mean?”
She leaned close to her ear and said, “I believe Rotherstone has been planning this night for a very long time.”
Evelina drew back and met her gaze. “What do you know that I do not?” she queried.
“Come and I shall tell you.”
With some difficulty, Evelina pushed her way through the crowds, Lady Monceaux following close behind. At last, free of the enrapt crowd, she was able to lead Lady Monceaux to the drawing room, which was now quite empty. The chamber was soothingly cool.
Removing to the far side of the room, Evelina sat down on a small settee. Lady Monceaux joined her. There were tears in her eyes.
“Sir Alfred was never one to keep me informed of estate matters. Sometimes the housekeeping budget was plump in the pocket and at other times I would be required to wait weeks or even months before I had the funds with which to pay my servants or to discharge the tradesmen’s bills. This has been a pattern since we were married nearly five and twenty years ago.
“However, seven years ago an event occurred that settled our affairs for a long time after: several years, in fact. I never knew what it was, I only had my suspicions, but this I did know—from that moment, the elder Lord Rotherstone was no longer a friend to my husband, nor was he a friend to any of the gentlemen now playing a deep game of hazard with his son.”
Evelina understood it all now. “I am deeply shocked. However,
your history explains so very much, everything in fact. Do you, that is, have you any notion what amount the elder Rotherstone lost that night?”
“I once heard the sum of forty thousand pounds mentioned between Mr. Fuller and Sir Alfred. They had been quarreling, I believe because Mr. Fuller’s conscience was hurting him.”
“So the gentlemen shared in this robbery?”
She frowned and shook her head. “I do not think so. The game occurred at Pashley Court, and at one point I went into the room to see if the gentlemen had need of anything. I saw Mr. Crookhorn and Mr. Fuller both asleep in chairs while the elder Lord Rotherstone, his nephew Colonel Carfax and my husband continued to play. I thought Rotherstone looked rather foxed, which he never was to my recollection, and I was about to intervene, but my husband physically removed me from the chamber. He told me that this was a matter between gentlemen.
“When I think on it now, I blame myself. I knew some misdeed was occurring, but I did not have the strength to withstand my husband’s overbearing manner.
“I retired to bed, the gentlemen went to their various homes and for several years there was a financial surplus in my home. Perhaps that was why I closed my eyes to what I knew must have happened. For the first time, I could be at ease. What a coward I was.
“So you see, Lady Evelina, Rotherstone is playing to take back that which was stolen from his father, that which separated his father from Maybridge society until the day he died.”
Evelina felt several tears seep from her eyes. “Rotherstone must have thought me a fool,” she said, sighing heavily.
“Why do you say that?”
She laughed harshly. “If you only knew how I championed the neighborhood to Rotherstone. When I think I had actually come to believe that it was by my persuasiveness that he began to take part in the community again, I confess I feel exceedingly foolish indeed. Although I am not in the smallest amount gratified to know that he made use of me quite freely for the purpose of rectifying an old wrong.”
Lady Monceaux took her hand and patted it gently. “You love him, do you not?”
“Horribly so,” she returned. “But what manner of man is he that he would take up so vengeful a course? I must ask myself again, can such a man ever truly be trusted?” Evelina straightened in her seat. “Do but listen.”
“What is it?” Lady Monceaux asked, mystified. “I hear nothing.”
“That is my point. There was used to be a great deal of shouting and laughter; now there is only silence.”
Evelina rose to her feet, as did her companion. Together, they hastened to the billiard room. The crowd in the hallway appeared stunned.
“What is it?” Evelina asked Stephen Rewell, who was standing in the doorway.
He appeared to be in shock. “Rotherstone just beat his cousin and Sir Alfred all to flinders. Carfax owes him over two thousand, but Sir Alfred’s vowels are so great in number that Rotherstone has declared that he requires nothing less than the deed to Pashley Court as payment.”
“What?” the ladies intoned together.
Lady Monceaux immediately begged to be permitted to enter the chamber. The crowds parted for her. Evelina entered as well by means of following closely in her wake.
Permitted to the side of the billiard table where the two men were locked in silent battle, Evelina wondered what next would happen. She knew Sir Alfred to be a hard, even disagreeable man who was not likely to relinquish his property merely because it was demanded of him. At the same time, as she glanced at Rotherstone’s stubborn jaw, she understood quite well there would be no relenting in him. She feared that a challenge might ensue.
From her side vision, she watched the lady beside her lift her chin. “You must give him what he asks for, Alfred,” Lady Monceaux said in a clear, crisp voice Evelina had never heard her use before. “It is the only honorable thing to do.”
A single enormous gasp rose from the crowd surrounding the table.
“Silence,” Sir Alfred thundered, directing all his present venom and frustration at his wife.
“No,” she answered simply. “I will not permit this farce to continue a moment longer and please close your astonished mouth, it is not in the least attractive.”
Titters moved through the crowd.
Amazingly, Sir Alfred shut his mouth.
Lady Monceaux continued, “You will put in writing this very moment that you agree to give Pashley Court to his lordship in payment for your vowels. If you do not, I will make known that which ought to be kept secret.”
Gasps and murmurings swept round the table.
Evelina stared at Lady Monceaux. Never would she have believed so much strength could be born in a creature that a mere fortnight past had cowered beneath her husband’s cold stare. Right, however, was on her ladyship’s side, and the evil that had been playing itself out in her husband’s dissolute habits could not stand.
“You have gone mad,” he said to his wife, but fear reigned in his eyes.
“Perhaps I have,” she returned, her own eyes blazing. “But you will write your promise even now, and tomorrow you and I together will take the deed to Blacklands.”
He shook his head. “This is utter madness.”
“Nevertheless. You will do as I have said. You made this bed a long time ago, and now you will lie in it.”
Tension filled the air. Carfax’s guests stared at Sir Alfred. He took a quick glance around. “I require a pen, paper and ink.”
Not a single soul moved while these items were brought to him. He did not sit but rather laid the paper out in front of him. He scrolled his name, Sir Alfred, and began to write.
Evelina’s gaze, however, became transfixed by the unusual manner in which he had written the S of his title. She tilted her head, and a bolt of excitement suddenly coursed through her. She had it. Most certainly she knew now where Jack Stub’s treasure was buried.
As Sir Alfred continued to write his promise, the five riddles on Jack Stub’s map flowed through her head.
“ ‘Time is lost, a smuggler’s weary end, the world is upside down, walls that will not mend.
‘Devil’s Gate wat opens, black the land will be, down a path, a treasure ye will see.
‘Cross the stones, cross one to dare, pearl and gold within, small and rare.
‘Ye olde well, draws water deep, of ale and mead, made honeysweet.
‘Some stones flat, others tall, a bridge in death, to any wat fall.’”
Sir Alfred handed the paper to Rotherstone. Evelina watched him read it. All the while, her mind was engaged in what she believed would prove to be the solution to the riddles.
Carfax tossed his vowel to Rotherstone as well. “I hope you are satisfied,” he said.
Rotherstone merely smiled.
Evelina suddenly spoke. “Colonel, is there a well at Gildstone?”
“What?” he asked, clearly confused.
“Is there a well, an old well, at Gildstone?”
“Yes. A very old well, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Only that I believe I know where Jack Stub’s treasure is buried.”
All eyes turned to her, and instantly the combined questions and expressed astonishment filled the small chamber.
“There is another question I would ask,” she said loudly, rising above the excited chatter in the room. Silence fell.
Evelina queried, “Did Jack Stub have a daughter, perchance?”
Miss Ambers suddenly said, “I see it now. Of course, he must have. Yes, of course.”
Evelina smiled at her. “Do you have it?”
“Yes, I have it. I have it.”
“Anyone else?” She glanced round, but not a single soul in the party could respond.
Rotherstone met Evelina’s gaze. “Why do you not show us where it is, for I apprehend it is very close.”
“Then you have guessed it?”
He nodded.
“Very well. Colonel, if you will send your man to fetch a shovel, seve
ral lanterns and perhaps even a few rushlights, we will proceed.”
“But where is the treasure to be found?” he asked intensely.
“I will not say, for I believe I should cause a stampede otherwise. No, you must wait until we have sufficient light and a shovel.”
“Perhaps we should have several shovels,” the elder Mr. Rewell suggested.
Evelina shook her head. “We require only one, of that I am certain.”
When Colonel Carfax, his complexion extremely heightened, went in search of one of his servants, Evelina was besieged with questions. She refused, however, to answer even one of them. “You must wait until our host has returned,” she said.
A general roar of conversation ensued. Evelina watched in some dismay as Rotherstone folded up Sir Alfred’s note and tucked it between his shirt and waistcoat. His expression was rather serious as he approached her, squeezing his way among a dozen guests, for the billiard room was still uncommonly thick with people.
In the excitement of having suddenly solved the map’s mystery, she had forgotten that the reason she had suddenly understood the meaning of the riddles was because of the manner in which Sir Alfred had written his S on a most horrid document.
When Rotherstone reached her, she opened her mouth to protest what he had done, but he was before her. “Yes, yes, I know you are in the boughs, but all will be well, I promise you. All that is required now is that you trust me but a little.”
She was astonished at his audacity. “You cannot possibly be serious.”
“More than in my entire life. I have but one question,” he added, raising his voice. “Will you marry me?”
The entire chamber fell silent again. Evelina felt every eye upon her and gave Rotherstone so scathing a look that he immediately threw up his hands. “I can see what the answer is. You have no need to say a word.” Since he laughed as he spoke, the crowd laughed with him.
When the general conversation in the room once more rose to a dull roar, she leaned close to him. “You have gone mad,” she said. “Or do you think I could possibly accept the hand of any gentleman who would gamble as you have just now?”
