Deadly Treasures

She had not told Brookes in so many words that Mr Dubois was not to know where she had gone to, but the staff’s loyalty was beyond question, and Jake had already alienated Brookes by his impolite behaviour on an earlier occasion. The butler would never tell him a thing, so she was perfectly safe from Jake’s scorn over her journey.

Still, it was too bad Jake was not here beside her, so they could discuss the poison case. It had left so many questions in her mind. Investigating murder with him was almost more exciting than seeing the pyramids.

It would certainly have been more exciting than seeing Duncan, who would just insult her again.

Alkmene raised a hand to check on her hair. Duncan had often teased her when she was a girl about her unruly hair and ungainly walk. His sister Delphine had been considered a little beauty even at eight, destined to court the interest of princes and dukes, and compared to her, Alkmene had always felt second-rate.

On her way now to face a man she had no intention of pleasing, she caught herself wanting him to admire her anyway, if only to make up for all the scorn he had unleashed on her in the past. Even so it would be easier if he still loathed her, for if he suddenly saw something in her and started courting her in earnest, their families would push them to no end to go on with it.

Why had she gotten herself entangled in this mess?

To distract herself Alkmene leaned forward and asked the driver, ‘Is it very far still?’

‘I do not know.’ He pursed his lips as if every word cost money.

‘But you must have made this journey before. Has the family never gone to see Duncan on site?’

‘I drove him out here in the spring when he began his work.’ The driver kept his eyes on the road ahead, speaking in the monotone words of someone reciting a lesson. ‘I asked him if he didn’t need a car while he was here, but he said he wanted to walk more, to improve his stamina.’

‘But the land is so wide,’ Alkmene observed, looking out of the side window at the patchwork blanket of meadows and cornfields, separated by lines of trees. ‘Walking is fine, but I don’t see that every distance can be crossed by walking.’

‘I said so too. But he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t take one servant from his father’s household with him.’

Alkmene heard the undertone in the words and understood the implication at once.

Determined not to look as if she was pouncing on this interesting tidbit, she kept her eyes on the land that was soaking up the sunshine. She said casually, ‘He took the job here to get away from his family?’

The driver was silent.

Alkmene was certain she had been too blunt and should have drawn him out by more subtle means. She just didn’t seem to have that gift.

Then the driver said, ‘Not to get away from anybody, but to be with someone, rather.’

Alkmene froze. Suddenly an alarm bell was ringing in the back of her mind. ‘And his family knew this?’

The driver nodded. ‘They suspect.’

Aw, no.

Alkmene sank back in the padding. She had easily believed her father had written to his old friend from India to discuss his only daughter who really did need a man, if only because the acquaintances were talking and it was never nice to be the object of gossip in town.

But now she saw a bigger truth. Her father’s letter had been a reply to an urgent cry for help sent by that old friend. The viscount had confided in Father that his son, his hope for the future, had fallen in love with an unsuitable woman, someone he was courting by using his excavation work as an excuse. Perhaps the lady lived in these remote parts, but it was more likely she had taken up residence here for the summer to be able to meet with Duncan away from prying eyes in London.

Duncan believed his family knew nothing of this, but they had been on to him from the start and had devised their own plan. Alkmene had to be sent over to win him from the other woman. Alkmene was strong-willed; she would know how to handle him.

Oh, she could just see her father’s hand, writing down the words. She was ashamed of it right as she sat here, fiery blood rising into her cheeks. Not just that Father had written it and his friend had believed it, but that she herself had risen so readily to the bait. She had just wanted to travel; she had not cared for Duncan at all, whether he was intellectual or not, a master of those fields she took an avid interest in. She had believed she could outsmart them all by going first, then moulding Duncan to be at least a little open to finding a suitable wife, and she could return home with fabulous experiences and nothing to feel bad about towards the viscount and his wife.

But at her ready agreement the viscount had thought she really wanted to snare Duncan and that finding opposition on the way would only make her desire stronger. Her desire to secure her childhood friend and to outwit another woman who had no right to him.

It was a clever plan on the viscount’s part, but it hinged completely on the assumption that she did want Duncan and she did not. Her appearance on the scene would be extremely painful, not only for Duncan and his secret love, but for her as well, because she would appear to be hunting a man who did not care for her, who indeed was pursuing another.

It might look quite desperate of her to follow Duncan to Cornwall where he had retreated to ‘work’.

Alkmene resisted the urge to clap her hands to her face and groan out loud. Her first, hot-headed inclination was to order the driver to turn around and take her back to London where she could tell the viscount to his face what she thought of him and his clever little plans.

But he was a dear friend of her father’s and she had no intention of humiliating him. She had to grit her teeth and make the best of this embarrassing situation. It was after all – in part – of her own making. If she had not been so eager to make a trip, she would have declined. Her own motives had pushed her to accept, and now she had to face the consequences.

A sign flashed past, reading ‘Blackcastle’. ‘Is that the village where I will be staying?’ she asked the driver, hoping she’d sound normal and not like she was crushed by his revelation. It had been a shock, but for a very different reason than the driver might assume.

‘Yes. It was named after an old castle nearby. There is just one tower left of it. The excavation site is a few miles to the south. You can see the tower from the site.’

‘How interesting.’ Taking a few breaths, Alkmene felt calmer. Her heart rate returned to normal, and she relaxed her clenched hands.

She just had to press on now, meet Duncan and find out all about his secret love. Perhaps if he was sincere and the young woman was suitable enough, she might even put in a good word for him, convincing his family that his choice was not so bad?

Her heart skipped a beat again. Who was she fooling here? Now that the viscount and his wife believed they could have her for a daughter-in-law, no other woman would do, let alone someone who had for some reason not been eligible to begin with. Her present involvement made it that much harder for the young lovers to ever wed, not easier.

How Duncan would hate her as soon as he realized what she was here for…

Meanwhile the driver steered the car ably through a small village. Stone houses on either side of the road with gardens in front of them, fruit-bearing trees beside them, climbing roses on trellises…

In front of a low-roofed building marked ‘livery stable’ a girl was brushing a fine dark horse, not even bothering to look at the Buick.

Alkmene was surprised that an unknown car, especially such a fine imported model, didn’t draw a response from the locals. One could argue that perhaps girls were not interested in cars, but a few more yards down the road two old men sat on a bench discussing something and they didn’t turn their weathered faces to the sound of the car engine either, but kept talking, one gesturing wildly with one hand holding a pipe. Their conversation seemed to engage them so that they were completely oblivious to their surroundings.

Alkmene turned her head to look at them through the rear window. Perhaps some local event had shaken the natives. She wondered what that all-important occurrence could be.

As they left the houses behind, the road rose to the top of a hill. Directly behind it lay flat grassy land, with bushes here and there. Birds rose from them, flashing around too quickly to make out what they were. In the distance a tall round tower stood outlined against the blue skies. It was much larger and plumper than a church tower. It had to be the remainder of the old Black Castle, after which the village took its name.

The sun beating down from the cloudless sky above outlined everything in stark bright lines as if drawn by an exquisite artist.

Alkmene breathed and tasted the freedom she had often wished for in the past. With a smile she sat up straighter and looked to her left where she could just discern an area that had been fenced off. Rough wooden fences were used, also wicker ones, and even string, running from one wooden pole inserted into the earth to another. She assumed that was the excavation site. There also was a simple wooden construction that was probably a tool shed or something.

The driver slowed down and turned the car left into a dirt track that led straight to the excavation site. It was full of potholes that shook the car and reverberated in Alkmene’s back and neck.

But she barely noticed, staring intently ahead. The wall of the tool shed that was directly opposite her now had been painted white, but the coat of paint wasn’t even. Some parts lay deeper.

Like there had been carving in the wall that the paint had been intended to cover up.

Letters. G-e-t…

O-u…

Get out?

It sounded much like a threat.

‘There they are,’ the driver said, and Alkmene followed his nod. A group of people had gathered to their right. Workers in overalls with leather kneecaps, a man in a sharp suit… Had they gathered because some exciting find had been made? She would be lucky to arrive at some high point in the excavation’s proceedings. Duncan would be pleased and not suspicious to see her, and she could immediately join in the group sensation, without being stared at for being both a woman and a non-specialist in this field.