CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Nicholas was in his element. Spending all these hours with Clarissa was wonderful. No one was there to interrupt them, so he could bask in her full attention and loved every minute of it.

By the afternoon, he was more captivated by Miss Crompton with each passing moment. Her intelligence shone through at every point of the day.

It was not just the clues she had solved so masterfully, but her quick wit had him laughing more than once. She had often found him amusing and particularly enjoyed his teasing of Henry.

As always, Henry had risen to the occasion and was outrageous with his insults. He knew better than to direct any at the ladies, and Nicholas had born them happily, particularly when Miss Crompton had found them so funny.

He was unsure what he made of Henry being paired with Lady Wilde. After a time, it seemed a contrivance that they should cross paths quite so regularly. Nicholas was becoming increasingly irritated with the lady, and he knew that he needed to school his features for her not to take offense.

Miss Crompton may have been happy to be in his company, but she was guarded and careful in everything she did. The maid that followed them throughout the afternoon was a boon and a curse. Nicholas longed to be alone with her, for when they interacted, a look of uncertainty or sadness always followed her smiles.

The penultimate clue of the day took them into the snow-covered gardens. Since he had looked out of the window only a few hours before, all the paths had been cleared. He was sorry for it. The lawns were decidedly less beautiful with the cobblestones dotted about. He much preferred the thick blanket of white that covered everything beneath it. If only there were such a thing for his own reputation. If only he could remove it from the world.

What has it cost me? And what do I have to show for it? Nothing at all except some stolen memories of those I can barely recall.

“What flows without end, yet aims for the sky?” Clarissa was saying, striking out across the lawn and reading the clue again as she seemed to alight on an idea.

“Perhaps one of these glorious fir trees?” Nicholas attempted, but she shook her head.

“It flows,” she said, looking back at him with a grin. “I believe we are looking for a fountain.”

“Aha! Well then, I have an advantage, for I know just where it is.”

“Lead the way,” she said happily, and he barked out a laugh as he led them beneath the high arch of the privet hedge at the garden's border and through to a small square. In the center was a black fountain. It had once been pale Yorkshire stone, but the edges of it were now darkened, with time and age behind them.

The way was rather uneven, and Nicholas offered his arm to Clarissa for support. As her hand rested against him, he could not prevent the shiver of need that ran through him to have her so close.

The gardens around them were silent, and their breath bloomed in great clouds as they made their way forward. It was exceedingly cold, and the snow was beginning to frost, creating a pleasing crunch every time they took a step.

As they reached the fountain, both exclaimed in astonishment to see the final clue beneath the ice that had formed around the pool.

Nicholas caught a stone from the floor and began gently chipping away at the surface as Clarissa watched. He looked back at her to ensure she was in favor of his methods. As he did so, the sun emerged from behind a cloud, setting the pins in Miss Crompton’s hair alight with sparkling beauty. Her dark brown eyes were excited as she gazed at their final clue, her lips slightly parted.

Nicholas could barely catch a full breath before he turned back to his task, his hands shaking a little as he finally broke through the layer of ice. He was finally able to retrieve the final piece of the puzzle.

He fished it out finding that it was a small wooden box and inside it was a folded-up piece of paper that was quite dry.

It is my property and belongs to me, but others use it more often.

They both puzzled over it for some time. Miss Crompton’s brow furrowed as she looked this way and that. It was as though she felt the gardens around them might answer for them.

“Something that belongs to you, perhaps?”

“There must be more than one team who will find this, though,” he said in puzzlement. “Although I am gratified that we are the first here for our side, for no one else had broken the ice.”

Just as he said so, Lady Wilde and Henry appeared, and it was clear they were the final players for their game.

Nicholas hastily withdrew, not wishing to attract any more attention from Lady Wilde. They walked back to the house, still pondering the riddle.

“If Lord Addison is to find the same clue, then it must pertain to both of you,” Clarissa said thoughtfully.

Nicholas shook his head. “I cannot think what might do that unless it is stubbornness.”

She laughed prettily, and he felt an overwhelming yearning to hold her hand again, but she was surefooted across the flat grass, and there was no occasion to offer.

“What about something on your person!” she said suddenly, turning to him and looking over him in a way that quickened his heart.

“About my person?” he asked. “Whatever do you—”

But even as he said it, he recalled his aunt coming to his room that morning and gifting him with a handkerchief for his pocket. She had told him it was a gift she had been meaning to give him for some time, and she had embroidered his initials on it.

“It is my property, and it belongs to me, but others use it more often,” he said. “My God, she is a wicked woman—my name. The clue is my name. Others use it more often than I do, but it is mine. She gave me this today, and I did not even think.” He said, his fingers moving to his pocket. He pulled the square of fabric out, and as he did so, a key, neatly folded within it, tumbled forth and spiraled onto the snowy earth beneath them.

Miss Crompton cried out in triumph. Nicholas saw a piece of paper flutter out also, and she caught it gamely as they both read the final clue.

Your prize awaits if you are fast enough to reach it.

It is where I am.

“Drawing room,” Nicholas cried just as he heard an answering shout from the small garden they had just left. With great speed, Miss Crompton suddenly started running across the lawn with a high-pitched squeal of laughter. He wished he could bottle the sound to listen to it over and over again.

They ran together, breath coming hard, the freezing wind biting at them as they ran at full speed back to the house ahead of Lady Wilde and Henry, who were hard on their heels.

They sprinted inside, just as they saw the other teams, still in the middle of their hunt, watching them with expressions of disappointment.

Nicholas, who was rather taller than his companion, burst into the drawing room to find his aunt standing in the center of the room with a huge smile on her face. She clapped her hands triumphantly as Nicholas ran forward and presented her with the key.

They were both panting as Henry thundered into the room behind them.

“What nonsense!” he exclaimed in feigned indignation. “They have most egregiously deceived us!”

Nicholas turned to him and laughed heartily as his aunt placed the key into a small lock in a chest beside her. Inside was a beautiful book of antique poetry that he knew she had owned for many years.

Lady Eleanor handed the prize to Nicholas, who instantly gave it to Miss Crompton, and their eyes met with happy glee. It was all the more perfect that they had spoken of their mutual love for poetry on this very hunt.

It was as though the prize had been designed for them, and Nicholas felt intense gratitude that he had been lucky enough to return to England at just the right time.

He looked at Clarissa as she opened the volume, her eyes bright and happy.

At that moment, Nicholas recognized that the true prize he had discovered that day was not the book but his deeper understanding of the lady holding it.

As the treasure hunt ended, his aunt rang the bell for everyone to gather.

As the group emerged from their various places within the house, there was much good-natured grumbling about the quiz master's nephew having won.

However, when they discovered the ingenuity of Eleanor’s game, everyone quite forgot it. She had managed to plant something on every person present, and there was much joy and excitement as everyone found the clues on their clothing.

Miss Crompton found a note inside her handkerchief. They were all fluttering with excitement, and Nicholas was glad to watch his aunt bask in the praise from everyone present.

And well she might he thought happily, that is the best game I have played in my life.

Soon, the wearied group were all seated around the crackling hearth in the drawing room. The sky was streaked scarlet behind them as the sun set, and despite the cold snap, everyone was warm and cozy. As they sat before the fire, cocoa was brought out, and everyone was furnished with a steaming cup of it.

Nicholas sat a little apart from the others. Many of the ladies in the group complained of feeling the chill, so he sat aside from the fire. It was a good opportunity to watch everyone without being seen. His gaze invariably fell on Miss Crompton.

Her eyes were sparkling as she recounted the final revelation to Rosemary, who was excitedly bouncing on her seat.

By the time Clarissa had reached halfway through the story, the entire room was enraptured by her tail. She was a magnificent storyteller, knowing exactly when to raise suspense and when to dash it to pieces.

He sipped his cocoa, watching her eyes sparkle as she recounted their mad dash back to the house. As he watched her, something shifted in his mind.

When he had first met Miss Crompton, he had seen a charming woman of whose acquaintance he very much wished to be included. Yet now, with the play of the firelight across her face and her enraptured audience, she was suddenly something else entirely.

His feelings had grown beyond anything he had experienced before. He had supposed himself besotted with Victoria, but he recognized now that his feelings for her had been nothing in comparison. When he looked at Miss Crompton, his body yearned for her in a way that astonished him. He found himself wanting her opinion on anything no matter the topic.

He considered himself privileged beyond bearing that she would entertain him, see past his reputation, and see the man beneath.

He had never believed that he would pursue a lady again. The idea of it still terrified him. He had, until today, been happy with being a bachelor. He had not considered taking a wife or falling in love for many years—if at all.

Yet there she sits—the paragon of everything I want in life.

She had settled before him like a perfect snowflake, and he had looked up to find the world a wonderland of possibility.