Making their way back to the library, Elizabeth smiled wryly, “As you said, Lady Charmane devised this. She is a clever woman, though rather eccentric; a mixture of riddle styles is somehow appropriate.”
Laughing as they turned from the stone hall, Mary proffered her agreement, Mr. Thomson and Miss Wordsworth coming out of the study–the pair would not be far behind.
The two pairs halting, Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably as Mr. Thomson observed them from head to toe. Each duo waiting for the other to move.
“A candle?” Mr. Thomson smirked. “The next object perhaps, or are you preparing for night already?”
“Day or night, I can think of a dozen uses in a house where not every room has a window,” Elizabeth answered blithely as she observed him in return, “Though I can equally think of at least one reason why I may prefer darkness.”
His face transforming from a smirk to a frown, his eyes narrowed. “If you will excuse us, we have a chamberstick to obtain.”
Dipping her head, Elizabeth stood stock still by her sister, waiting instead for him and Miss Wordsworth to continue on their way.
Some moments after they had turned, Mary tiptoed to the stone hall and peered down it, the disgruntled voice of Mr. Thomson following until, after several moments, it faded away.
Returning to Elizabeth’s side, Mary grinned, “Now that that cheat is gone, shall we?”
With a laugh she followed her sister into the library, the warmth of the space filled with the delicious odour of old books and a roaring fire.
The door closed, they came to stand in the center of the room, the walls of books as overwhelming as they were wonderfully familiar. Their tomes providing far too many places for a clue to hide for their liking.
“Well,” Elizabeth said as her eyes ran over the thousands of books, “to quote our clue,‘If knowledge is a thing you seek, you might wish to take a peek.’If books count as knowledge, this is certainly the place to be.”
Pulling out the clue, Mary drew closer to her sister. “Let us see. In the first line and the second, it is either talking about books or the library–unless misread entirely. That leaves us with the third line.”
Lips thinning, Elizabeth surveyed the room.Books, tables, chairs, statuary, maps, and… a fireplace. Could it be that easy?
Drawing nearer the fireplace, her eyes moved slowly over the mantle and sides.More books, a small clock, a moderately sized marble bust, a pair of candlesticks, and a great deal of carving in the stone mantle and surround. Still, no papers, no grouping of four objects… nothing.
“You may be correct,” Mary said as she stood alongside her sister. “It said to stand close to drive away the cold. Close?”
Grinning, Mary and Elizabeth stood right beside the roaring fire, the heat almost unbearable in spite of Elizabeth’s earlier brush with the cold.
Hands touching and moving anything and everything on or around the fireplace, they explored every inch of its flameless surface, Elizabeth’s hands at last stilling under the mantle itself.Paper?Crouching down, Elizabeth gazed upward, a giggle forming as she noted four sealed letters shoved into a small crevice underneath. Preparing to grab the nearest, Elizabeth’s brows furrowed as she viewed them.Bennet? None of the previous clues had been labeled.
Snatching theirs, Elizabeth stared at the unopened clue.Heavy. A strange weight to it and… yes,she considered as she felt it,something hard inside. Their object?
“Well, I suppose since it is addressed to us, we ought to open it,” Mary remarked, her head tilted as she considered the sealed clue.
One quick glance toward the door and Elizabeth motioned to the secret passageway.Mr. Thomson would return at any moment, and given how well the clue had been hidden, they ought not be found standing where they had discovered it.
Quickly lighting their chamberstick, the pair entered the passageway, the closing door leaving the passage dimly lit by their candle. Heading right, Elizabeth found the winding stairs, the trek as disquieting as the first time as they wound their way around, pausing a few steps beyond to read their next clue, a weighty brass key falling into Elizabeth’s left hand.
The key appeared old, though the candlelight did it no favours, every scratch a contrast to the sheen of the polished brass.
“I wonder,” Mary mused as she turned from the key in Elizabeth’s hand to the clue.
“Wonder what?”
“If everyone received a key? It said Bennet… something must have made this clue or object different enough to mark. Were the others written on?”
“They were plain, just as every other time. Ours was the only one with even a mark. I suppose the key, or the clue itself, could be different, barring error. Here, let us look at our clue.”
Turning to the letter, the sisters scoured the clue.
Within this house that is quite old, are many secrets to be told.
A place concealed in days gone by, can only be opened with a keen eye.
