“I’m afraid not,” Caleb said. “We found something in a book that we found rather troubling.”
“Which book? And why does this concern me?” Lord Oxley asked in a bored tone. Clearly, he hadn’t made the connection yet as to why this particular book was important.
“We discovered a blank piece of paper stuffed inside one of the books that was on your shelf,” Caleb continued.
Lord Oxley’s face remained expressionless, giving nothing away. “Why would that be of any importance to you?” he asked, his voice tight.
“I think you know the significance of the paper,” Caleb said.
“It was just a blank piece of paper, nothing more,” Lord Oxley attempted. “Now if you will excuse me—”
Roswell spoke over him. “It wasn’t blank, at least not when we held it up to a flame.”
Lord Oxley appeared visibly shaken. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“We had to test for invisible ink,” Roswell replied.
“How would you even know to do such a thing?” Lord Oxley asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. “We discovered a similar piece of paper in Lord Chester’s desk the day before he was killed.”
“Yes, what an unfortunate accident,” Lord Oxley said before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes roamed over the room, landing anywhere but on them.
“We both know it wasn’t an accident,” Caleb stated. “Someone wanted him dead and poisoned him with hemlock.”
Lord Oxley did not look pleased with the information that Caleb had just shared. “How do you know all of this?”
“It isn’t importanthowwe know, but it is more important that we do know it,” Caleb replied. “How long have you been working with the French?”
“I am not working with the French,” Lord Oxley rushed out. It was far too quick of a response to be anything but a lie.
Roswell stepped closer to the mantel over the hearth. “If that is the case, why do you have a coded message from them?”
Lord Oxley’s lips drew into a tight, white line. “You know not what you speak of,” he stated in a harsh tone.
“Enlighten us, then,” Caleb said.
“Don’t you see that I’m trying to protect you, all of you?” Lord Oxley declared.
“By being a traitor?” Caleb asked.
Lord Oxley drew himself up to his full height and remained resolute. “I am no traitor and I resent the implication.”
Caleb gave his father a pointed look. “And I resent being lied to.”
“I am not lying,” Lord Oxley said.
Roswell picked up a small vase from the mantel as he remarked, “Unfortunately for you, my lord, you have been branded as a traitor. It would be best if you tell us what you know or else we can’t help you.”
“Help me?” Lord Oxley huffed. “No one can help me.”
“We can,” Caleb asserted. “I can’t promise that you won’t face some consequences for what you have done, but you might be able to escape with your life.”
Lord Oxley grew silent. “I am a dead man anyways.”
“You don’t know that for certain,” Roswell said. “Let us help you.”
“What can you do?” Lord Oxley asked. “You can’t protect me, no one can. Not from these people.”
