Romancing the Earl (2 page)

Yet she hadn’t stated it as of yet. Elijah’s wariness intensified. Matthew had indicated the treasure
was
valuable. Had he been mistaken, or was she lying? “How much?”

“Two hundred pounds.”

Good Christ, where had she gotten that kind of money? “You actually have a hundred pounds with you to give me today—you did say you had half?”

“Yes.” She darted a glance at her indomitable companion. “I am prepared to pay you a hundred pounds. But first we have to find it. I know Lord Norris kept an inventory. Perhaps that will reveal its location. Might we review it?”

There
was
an inventory and Elijah had given it a cursory overview. However, it wouldn’t help them. Not with this. “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary. I’m fairly certain the map is gone.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for the barest second. “No,” she breathed. “It can’t be. You said you didn’t know where it was; you didn’t even know what I was talking about.”

“I didn’t until you called it a map. My brother wrote a letter to me shortly before he died. In it, he mentioned a treasure map, but not a tapestry. I discounted it as the product of his fanciful imagination, something he was prone to.”

“Then it’s still here.” Her tone carried hopeful excitement.

Surprisingly, he sympathized with her plight. He might not share her enthusiasm for this tapestry-map, but he knew what it was like to want something most desperately and realize you’d likely never have it. “It is not, I’m afraid. Several people offered to buy it, and someone attempted to steal it, prompting my brother to hide it. I now wonder, however, if one of those buyers was as eager as you to find the map.” Had she been one of the interested parties?

Miss Bowen lifted her hand to her chest. Her eyes widened with concern. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Tell me, Miss Bowen, what do you know of my brother’s accident? Given what you’ve revealed about the importance of this tapestry, I find I must ponder whether it was an accident at all.”

Cate tried to mask her inhalation and failed miserably. She needed to work harder to be guarded, like Grey. But if he was saying what she thought he was saying . . . “You can’t think I had anything to do with his death?”

Lord Norris’s stone-blue eyes hooded briefly. “Forgive me, Miss Bowen. I am merely trying to understand this situation, now that I know my brother’s ramblings were true. There
was
a treasure map, which someone tried to steal, and which Matthew subsequently hid. And then he died. I have no proof it wasn’t an accident and yet I am suddenly struck with the troubling apprehension that it was not.”

Troubling was perhaps an understatement. “You think someone killed your brother because of the map?”

“I don’t know. But I find the timing of these incidents disturbing.”

The back of her neck chilled with dread. Despite what she’d told the earl, the treasure she sought
was
extremely valuable and desired by many. Perhaps even by those who would resort to violence to obtain it. That thrust her quest into a new light, one she would discuss with Grey later.

She glanced at her companion, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. Squaring her shoulders, Cate returned her attention to Lord Norris. “What do you intend to do?”

He tipped his head to the side. “I’m not certain, but I’ll make some inquiries. It’s neither here nor there, however, as it doesn’t affect you. Unless you are somehow involved?” He peered at her with a hint of suspicion to his gaze.

She fought to keep herself from becoming angry. The man had lost his brother . . . over a year ago, but it was still a loss. “I am absolutely not involved. This is the first time I’ve tried to purchase the tapestry. I only recently learned it was a map.”

He leaned back in his chair and contemplated her for a long moment. “A map to an historically-important, but not valuable, treasure. My brother indicated to the contrary in his letter. He said it was incomparably valuable. Yes, I believe those were the words he used.”

His tone and the gleam in his eye said he knew she’d lied before. Or, more accurately, misled him.
 

More vexing than his annoyance, however, was the fact that others—at least his brother and whomever had tried to purchase it—were aware that the tapestry was a treasure map. Cate should be one of very few people with this knowledge, which she’d uncovered without intellectual assistance. She planned to find the treasure the same way, though she would require Grey’s help with the logistics. Then she would surprise and impress the antiquarian world with her astounding discovery.

“I apologize for misleading you, but this
is
an important artifact. Yes, I suppose the treasure might be considered valuable but I desire it for its academic worth. Did he say what the treasure was?” She held her breath waiting for the answer.

And she had to wait, because Norris was taking his time, likely weighing how much to divulge. She wanted to demand complete honesty in exchange for the same, but she couldn’t do that. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

“No,” he said finally, causing her to exhale softly. “His letter did not reveal the nature of the treasure, nor did he mention the fact that the map was a tapestry. He wasn’t very good with details.” Norris’s tone was resigned. “As I said, he had a tendency to be fanciful, which is why I discounted the entire letter as a drunken farce. He was also fond of playing jokes in our youth, and I wondered if this might be an adult version of the same.”

She could feel the tension between the brothers as if the previous Lord Norris were in the room with them. Though she’d just made this Lord Norris’s acquaintance, she would wager
he
was very good with details. His pale blue eyes were alert, intelligent, which made him exceptionally attractive—to her. She was far more impressed with a man’s intellect than his appearance, although Lord Norris certainly boasted a handsome exterior as well. He was perhaps the tallest person she’d ever met—standing well over six feet and taller even than Septon—and held himself with the sharp, imposing bearing of an officer. His blond hair kept him from looking completely fierce.

She internally shook herself. Now who was being fanciful? “Did the letter mention who the potential buyers were?”

He frowned. “Unfortunately, no. Pardon me for repeating myself, but he wasn’t good with specificity.”

“And you have absolutely no idea where the tapestry might be hidden?” He’d said as much, but she had to consider the possibility that he was lying. Except he’d declined knowing its whereabouts before he’d learned it was a map to a valuable treasure.

“I do not. And that is the truth—on my honor.” His stare was direct, and she could tell his honor was very important to him. She couldn’t help but believe him. “So, you see, I can’t help you.”

Believing him didn’t ease her frustration, however. “You mean you
won’t
help me. He didn’t destroy the map; you said he hid it. What is hidden can be found. That’s what we antiquaries
do
. And I am a skilled antiquary.” She scooted forward on the settee. “I should be delighted to help you find the map, and I’ll still pay you two hundred pounds for it.”

He chuckled softly and like his earlier laugh, it was a warm, delicious sound that caressed her senses. “You’d give me the benefit of your
skill
free of charge? How magnanimous of you.”

His sarcasm nearly provoked her to laugh in return, but she didn’t. She needed to keep her mind on the task at hand—obtaining the map before someone else did. “I won’t pretend I don’t have a vested interest in finding this map. You already know I want it and I’m willing to pay a tidy sum. Your lack of desire to help me is most baffling.”

“Desire?” His eyes were cool, but there was something burning in their depths—it gave her that same icy-hot feeling as after she’d spent too much time outside in the snow as a child. “What I
desire
is to learn how you know this tapestry is a map or that it leads to treasure—a treasure you have yet to reveal, I might add.”

This was a complicated chess match. Neither of them wanted to share too much, but they each had to give something in order to obtain a sliver of information. She sent a conspiratorial glance at Grey, who again nodded in support.

“Have you ever heard of the sword Dyrnwyn?” Cate asked.

His forehead creased. “Should I have?”

“It is also known as ‘white-hilt’ or the Sword of Rhydderch Hael. It is one of the thirteen treasures of Britain. Surely you’ve heard of those.”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“They are ancient artifacts of Welsh origin, perhaps even magical in nature.”

“Magical?” he asked in disbelief. “It sounds like a myth. Like Arthur and Excalibur.”

She ought to have expected him to be dubious. Anyone outside of the antiquarian world would be. “It’s exactly like Arthur and Excalibur. Dyrnwyn belonged to one of his knights. There are many documents that purport the existence of all of these things.”

He looked unconvinced. “There are many documents that proclaim a virgin bore a child, but I don’t believe those either.”

Grey let out a decidedly unladylike snort. Cate threw her a suffering glance. “That’s rather blasphemous, isn’t it, my lord?”

“I’ve spent the last several years in a rather blasphemous place. You must forgive me,” he said unrepentantly. “You think this tapestry map leads to”—he paused a moment
—“Durnwin?”
He did a fair job of pronouncing the Welsh name.

“I’m confident it does, yes.”

“And this confidence is based on what? What is your evidence that this is a map leading to Dyrnwyn?”

She borrowed his tactics for evasion. “Forgive me if I don’t disclose that information. It would spoil the academic paper I plan to publish.”
 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You think I might steal your ideas? I assure you, I have no academic designs on your research. Or whatever you call it.”

She scowled at him, her anger rising. As a female antiquary, she fought against prejudice. This quest would give her the credibility and respect she deserved. Her gender ought not matter to the antiquarian community, but women were not admitted to the London Natural Society of Antiquities, nor were they allowed to present their ideas. “And I assure
you,
my research is sound. My father, Mr. Rhys Bowen, is a renowned scholar in the realm. His personal library of medieval manuscripts is unparalleled. Many of his documents appear in the Ashmolean Museum, where my brother works.” She was, unfortunately, quite used to invoking her father and brother’s names in order to recommend her own integrity. It was, overall, a galling circumstance.

Norris lifted a shoulder. “A fine pedigree, I’m sure, but you must understand that all of this means next to nothing to me. I’ve inherited an apparently remarkable collection of antiquities, but it may as well be a warehouse full of farming implements. On second thought, such tools would perhaps be more useful.”

Cate tried not to gape at him. “I assure you that your collection of antiquities is far more important and at least more valuable than farming implements.”

“I shall have to take your word for it. As a
skilled
antiquary.”

She couldn’t tell if he was being facetious, but her ire was fully pricked now. “I’ve been searching for Dyrnwyn for years. I’ve pored over every document I could get my hands on, and I recently found one that indicates the tapestry is a map that leads to the sword depicted upon it.” She was revealing far too much, but he’d called her abilities into question.

His eyes rounded briefly. “
That’s
your evidence? Unless the document was written by King Arthur himself, I’d say it’s ambiguous at best.”

She worked to keep her tone even. This was precisely why she hadn’t shared her theories with anyone besides Grey. Not that her brother and father wouldn’t have listened to her with considerably more interest and credulity than Lord Norris. But she hadn’t told them because this was going to be
her
discovery. Hers alone. “The document was authored by a reliable medieval source—Edmund de Valery. Perhaps you’ve heard of the de Valery manuscripts?”

His blank stare said he hadn’t.

She charged forward, warming to her topic. “They’re a pair of books by a medieval scribe detailing stories of one of the Knights of the Round Table—Gareth—as well as other tales involving Arthur and his knights. My mother owns one of the manuscripts, so I’m quite familiar with de Valery’s work. I immediately recognized that his hand had created the document regarding the tapestry.”