Chapter Twenty-Eight

A rabella released the breath she’d been holding. There really was a treasure? No, she corrected herself, they could not assume that. They had no idea what the box contained. For all they knew, it might be stuffed with legal documents made meaningless by their age.

“I’ll hold the candle for you if you want to get it out,” she offered to George. He handed the candlestick back to her, then crawled halfway into the narrow space so he could gingerly lift out the wooden chest. He just barely fit in the gap between the floor and the bottom shelf.

He handed the chest to her. She blew out her candle and set it aside so she could lift the box with both hands, though was not as heavy as she had expected. She set it on the table. George stood by her side, examining it with her.

In its construction, the chest resembled a wooden traveling trunk, but on a miniature scale. Arabella tried to open it, but it was locked. She sighed. They ought to have known it wouldn’t be easy to open!

“I doubt anyone knows where the key is,” she said glumly.

“Probably not,” George agreed, “but I also doubt the lock is very complex. It might not be hard to pick it.”

She looked askance at him. “Do you know to pick a lock?” It seemed an unlikely talent for the son of a country vicar.

He grinned back at her. “No, but I’m sure we can find someone who can do it. Maybe Hastings will know who to recommend.”

Arabella shook her head, but a smile teased at the corners of her mouth. She knew very little of Hastings’s background. Theoretically, he might very well be an expert cracksman who had decided to turn gardener. But if he had a criminal past, he wouldn’t want to admit it to his employers.

Before George could go in search of the manservant, the door to the kitchen swung open and Mrs. Hastings bustled in. “There you are! Are you done messing with my kitchen?” She rested her hands on her hips and frowned at the jars, platters, and bowls stacked on the table. Then her eyes widened. “Where on earth did that box come from?”

“From behind a secret door!” George indicated the gaping hole in the wall with a dramatic gesture.

Mrs. Hastings’s jaw dropped. “Well, I never! Do you mean to say there’s been a treasure chest here all along? Won’t your uncle be surprised!”

“Yes, I’ll have to write to him after we get this box open,” George agreed.

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Hastings smiled. “Oh, you won’t have to write to him. You can tell him yourself before you open the box.”

George wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean?”

Arabella, watching the sly humor on the housekeeper’s face, made a guess. “Is Mr. Kirkland here in Lancashire?” she asked. “In Pendleford, even?”

Mrs. Hastings’s smile grew. “Yes. Not to put too fine a point on it, he’s sitting in the parlor waiting for you. And he brought one of your cousins with him.”

Arabella caught George’s eye and raised her eyebrows. This did not seem like good news. They wouldn’t want Augustus or Benedict to know about the treasure. Or would they? If the treasure had been discovered at last, there would no longer be any reason for treasure hunters to tear up the kitchen. The cottage would finally be left in peace.

“He’s here? We’ve got to tell him about our discovery!”

Arabella followed him a little more sedately. After the surprising discovery in the kitchen, she needed a moment to get her chaotic thoughts in some sort of order. She lingered a moment outside the parlor door, taking a deep breath before she entered the room.

Thus, she missed William Kirkland’s greeting. By the time she stepped into the room, George was already shaking his uncle’s hand. She watched as he pointedly ignored the outstretched hand of the golden-haired young man standing next to Uncle William.

George glanced over his shoulder at Arabelle. “Ah, here’s Mrs. Kirkland now. Belle, this is my cousin Augustus. I don’t think you’ve met him, have you?”

“No, I don’t believe so.” She could see the resemblance between him and Benedict, though Augustus’s hair was lighter and more yellow than his brother’s.

Augustus bowed slightly. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kirkland. It is a pleasure to meet you.” His smile faltered when he glanced at George.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kirkland. And Mr. Augustus Kirkland.” The smile on Arabella’s face was genuine. She was excited to tell William Kirkland of their discovery. “What brings the two of you to Dogwood Cottage?”

Uncle William cleared his voice. “My nephew here has a confession to make.”

“A confession?” she repeated. Her smile fell.

“Yes.” Uncle William gave Augustus a pointed look. “Perhaps we should sit down for this?”

Augustus gulped. “A good idea.”

Arabella sat next to George on the sofa. The warmth of his body by her side felt reassuring. Instead of clasping her hands together nervously, she took George’s hand. He squeezed it affectionately and smiled at her, though his smile dropped away when he turned to face his cousin.

“This confession wouldn’t, by any chance, have to do with breaking into the house and ruining Aunt Helena’s favorite tea set, would it?”

Augustus stared down at the toes of his boots, effectively answering the question without words. “We didn’t mean to break the tea set. We were just trying to move the dresser away from the wall and... we lost control of it.” He lifted his chin and looked at them earnestly. “We honestly didn’t mean to break anything.”

“But you did mean to trespass,” George retorted. “This is my house. Our house. You had no right to be poking about in the kitchen while everyone was away.”

His cousin dropped his eyes again. “Yes, we did trespass. We weren’t here to steal anything, though. Just looking for the treasure.”

George and Arabella exchanged a long look. Arabella couldn’t guess what her husband was thinking, but she wondered if the moment for revealing their discovery had arrived.

George turned back to Augustus. “Who’s we? Did Benedict help you?”

“Only because I begged him to help!” Augustus quickly clarified. “Benedict didn’t want to break into the cottage at all. He said it wasn’t right to do that to one of our relatives. I think he only came along to try to keep me out of trouble. When the big dresser toppled over, he insisted we needed to leave before we damaged anything else.”

Good for him . Arabella only wished Benedict had had the gumption to refuse to help his brother at all. On his own, Augustus wouldn’t have been able to tip over the dresser.

“That is why I did not force Benedict to accompany us,” Uncle William explained. “I believe he really did try to dissuade his brother from this foolhardy plan. And Benedict was the one who came clean to me.” He glared at Augustus again. “Augustus here lied when I asked him if he knew anything about the most recent break-in.”

“For which I am very sorry!” Augustus exclaimed. “I fully realize that what I did was wrong. And I will never do it again.” He sighed and ran a nervous hand through his golden hair. “It was all quite pointless, anyway, since there is no treasure.”

George snorted. When he glanced at Arabella out of the corner of his eye, she smiled at him. The timing of this visit seemed downright providential. What would Augustus say when he learned how close he had actually been to the hiding place in the kitchen wall?

“About that,” George said. “There’s something we have to show you. Won’t you both come to the kitchen with me?”

“To the kitchen?” Uncle William repeated. “Did those foolish boys damage something else?”

George’s grin broadened. “No, nothing like that. It’s just that Belle and I found something interesting in the kitchen today. I really think you ought to take a look.”

“If you tell me there really is a treasure and you found it just today, I will eat my hat,” Augustus announced.

Arabella tried to hide her giggle, but she wasn’t entirely successful. Both the visitors stared at her, clearly confused by her reaction.

“I think you should see for yourself,” George insisted.

To say that Uncle William and Augustus were taken aback by the sight of the tiny space hidden behind the shelves would be an understatement. Augustus made a sound like a muffled groan and covered his face in dismay. Arabella wondered if he were castigating himself for failing to discover the door behind the shelves.

Uncle William was dumbfounded. His jaw dropped, and he quickly sat down on the nearest stool, as if his legs could no longer support him. “Do you mean to say there really is a treasure, and no one found it? People have been looking for treasure here for centuries!”

“We don’t know what’s in the box,” Arabella qualified. “It might be full of rubbish rather than any sort of treasure. We haven’t been able to open it, because it’s locked.”

“I don’t suppose you have the key, do you?” George asked his uncle.

Uncle William shook his head. He rose from his chair, drew nearer to the box and reverently picked it up. He turned it slowly around, looking at it from every angle. Then he gently tugged on the lid. It remained stubbornly shut.

“The key is probably long gone. We may need to call a locksmith if we wish to open it without damaging the lock.”

To Arabella’s surprise, Augustus cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look at him. His face flushed a light pink, but he boldly met their eyes.

“I’ve had a little experience with locks,” he said. “If you like, I could try opening it.”

“Why on earth would you know how to pick a lock?” George demanded. “Do you often break into other people’s houses!”

Augustus’s face turned a brighter shade of red. “No! It was only the once! I practiced on locks just in case.” He sighed. “I understand that after what I did, you may not want me touching that box. I just thought I might be able to help, that’s all.”

Arabella looked to see George’s reaction. Shifting emotions crossed his face, but she could not interpret his expression. Finally, he nodded.

“Very well, you can try to unlock it. But please do your best not to damage anything. Anything else , I mean.” George reinforced his warning with a grim scowl.

“Of course.” Augustus spoke in a soothing voice as he approached the box. “Do you happen to have something very small and very sharp? Like a straight pin, or a hair pin?” He addressed the question to Arabella.

“Oh, yes.” She drew a hairpin out of her chignon, causing several strands of hair to fall loose. She suspected her coiffure looked the worse for it, but that could not be helped. She handed the hairpin to Augustus.

They all watched with bated breath as Augustus used the hairpin to explore the lock. Very much to her surprise, the lock eventually clicked open. Uncle William drew in his breath sharply. George gasped. Augustus put down the hairpin and smiled proudly. He reached out to open the lid, but George pulled the box away from him.

“Uncle William should get to open it,” George suggested.

Augustus nodded, and George slid the box across the table to his uncle. Uncle William stared at it for so long that Arabella assumed he meant to ask someone else to open it. Then he cautiously lifted the lid. All that could be seen was a layer of some rich black cloth covering the contents of the chest.

Arabella lightly touched the covering. “Velvet,” she murmured. Velvet was often used to protect jewelry. Maybe this really was some kind of treasure!

“Well, let’s see what’s under it!” George slowly drew the covering away. Then his eyes widened.

“It is treasure,” Augustus whispered. “That’s gold, isn’t it?”

No one answered him, probably because they were all too busy staring at the objects that had been hidden under velvet. The chest contained a very small cup, a shallow round dish, and a wooden crucifix with a silver corpus. The cup and plate appeared to be made of gold, but they were plainly constructed, with no illustrations or engravings. Not quite the ornate, bejeweled objects Arabella might have expected.

“I believe that’s a chalice.” George pointed to the small gold cup. “Which means this is probably a patten?” Doubt turned it into a question. “They’re used for saying Mass.”

“It really is a priest hole, then.” Arabella longed to touch the objects, but she kept her hands away, fearing she would besmirch them.

“I wonder how much they’re worth,” Augustus mused.

Arabella stared at him, surprised he was still concerned with the monetary value of their find. If George had correctly identified the objects, they were sacred. To the right people, they might hold a value beyond the worth of their materials.

“I wonder who they belonged to,” Uncle William mused. “They must have been hidden for a good two hundred years, so whoever owned them will be long dead, but—”

“This house originally belonged to the Finch family, didn’t it?” George reminded his uncle. “And the Finches used to be Roman Catholics. The last of the Finches live up at Waterbury Lodge. I believe the chest should be returned to them.”

“Yes,” Arabella agreed. “That seems like the best solution. Maybe Mr. Cawley’s aunt will know what to do with these things.” She could not remember the elderly woman’s given name, but she still retained an impression of her gentle voice and quiet good humor.

“Really? You finally found the treasure, and you’re going to give it away?” Incredulity dripped from Augustus’s voice. He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“Things are never as valuable as people,” Uncle William said gently. “Maybe you are too young to understand that yet.”

“Yes, we should cultivate good relationships with our neighbors,” Arabella said. Returning this chest to the Cawley family could only help foster the friendship developing between George and Mr. Cawley. Keeping the treasure to themselves, on the other hand, might anger the Finch descendants, assuming they ever heard of it.

“I don’t think that’s what Uncle William meant, Belle.”

George’s tone of voice surprised Arabella. Why, she wondered, did he sound so solemn?

He continued before she could ask any questions. “If you ask me, our lives together are more important than any treasure, no matter how historically important.” He smiled, reached across the table, and brushed a loose strand of hair away from Arabella’s face. “You are my treasure, Belle.”

Arabella’s face burned with embarrassment. She studiously avoided meeting the eyes of either of the visitors. If they were shocked or amused by George’s very public affection, she did not want to see it.

“Exactly!” Uncle William’s enthusiastic response brought Arabella’s attention back to him. His often-scowling face was now wreathed in smiles. “That is precisely the lesson I wanted you boys to learn. A house and a fortune are not as important as a family.” His smile fell when he looked at Augustus. “Apparently it takes some of you longer to learn than others.”

Augustus gulped. “I see.” But the confusion on his face suggested he did not really understand.

Arabella understood, though. She caught George’s eye, and he smiled at her. The corners of her mouth kicked up in a returning smile. Uncle William had taken rather unusual measures to drive home the desired moral, but she and George had both learned something.

“Do you intend to give all your nephews houses and fortunes to make them fall in love?” George asked his uncle.

Uncle William’s smile was replaced by his customary scowl. “That is my concern, young man, not yours.”

Fall in love? Was that what had happened to them? Yes, she supposed it was! Arabella drew a deep breath as a sweet bubble of happiness welled up in her heart.

“Now that we’ve got that settled, what would you all say to a cup of tea and a slice of Mrs. Hastings’s seedcake?” She would not—or could not—remind George how much she loved him. Not now, with their guests listening to every word. Some feelings were best kept for private moments. But she could show him her feelings by playing the role of mistress of Dogwood Cottage to the best of her ability. Judging by the warmth in his eyes, he seemed to understand.