Page 7 of The Earl's Secret
They all leaned in slightly, the better to hear, and Cassandra read the riddle aloud, line by line. By the time she was done, her friends were all watching her with rapt attention.
“What does it mean?” Hope asked breathlessly.
“I believe the first line is referencing Castleton, although I am unsure of the rest,” Cassandra said truthfully. “I have spent far too much time over the past week attempting to decipher the words, but nothing makes sense. I am hoping that once I am at Castleton, it will begin to come together.”
“It all sounds like some sort of fanciful game to me,” said Faith, her nose up slightly in the air as though she was above the riddle. “Why would someone hide a treasure and then create a riddle to lead you there? It sounds like child’s play. Where did you find it anyway?”
“Interestingly enough, in the pages of this very book I was reading. The book had been on the shelves at Castleton for years from the looks of it. When I knew our list for the season, I searched the library to see if we owned any of them.”
“So someone wrote out a riddle that pointed the bearer to Castleton and then hid the clue in a random risqué book on the shelves? Why?”
Cassandra shrugged. “There are some mistakes in the spelling. Perhaps this was a first copy before another one was written?”
“And it somehow became stuck in the book?”
“Maybe the writer was in the middle of reading the book when she began anew.”
“Why do you think the writer was a woman?” Percy asked, tilting her head to the side, one of her red-gold curls bobbing as she did so.
“The wording seems quite clever,” Cassandra said, her lips curling into a smile. “Hardly creative enough for a man to have come up with.”
Madeline snorted at that but seemed to agree.
“Well, I am pleased to have put this in motion, having been the one to select the book in which it was found. The writer of the riddle obviously had good taste,” Madeline said with a grin. “Now, what are we to do with this?”
“As it happens, I will be leaving for Castleton soon – tomorrow, actually – and will begin searching. I was hoping that some of you might have ideas as to what the rest of the riddle is referencing.”
“We will certainly try to think on it,” Hope said, “although you know the estate better than anyone.”
“Have you told your brother?” Madeline asked, arching one of her perfect eyebrows.
“No,” Cassandra shook her head. “He would tell me that I shouldn’t be involved in this, or he would feel that I was placing too much importance into it. I shall tell him once I have a better idea of whether anything will be found.”
They nodded as they were silent for a moment, considering the mystery she had placed before them. As Cassandra had already spent so much time on trying to solve the clues, her gaze drifted out over the water before them. There were a few rowboats arching through the calm blue water that was practically sparkling with the sunshine of the day. A couple of the boats were moving rather leisurely, while another was slicing over the surface more quickly, as though he was part of Oxford’s own racing team.
Cassandra squinted. There was something familiar about the way the rower moved. He almost reminded her of—then the boat slowed and the rower lifted a hand.
Oh goodness. It was not onlyhim, but he had caught her watching him. She whipped her head around, pretending she hadn’t seen him, that she hadn’t been captivated by his speed, the way the muscles of his shoulders had bunched as he pulled back the oars, how she could imagine the strength of his thighs as they pushed against the bottom of the boat.
For even if she couldn’t see them, she knew what they looked like, what they had felt like under her hands. Sometimes, she could still remember—
“Cassandra?”
Her face heated as she realized she had been caught in her reveries.
“Yes?” she answered Hope, having to clear her throat.
“Are you all right? You appear to be rather overcome. Do you think—”
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head as she lifted a hand to fan her face. “It must be the weather, is all. It is rather warm, isn’t it?”
“It is spring,” Faith said, eyeing her, “but I would not say that the heat is anything unbearable. Are you sure you are well?”
“Of course,” she assured her. “Why do I not fetch our drinks?”
She reached into the basket and found the decanter, passing them each a glass before she began to pour.
Percy took a sip and then coughed slightly.
