To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) (18 page)

“It is worth trying to discover, don’t you
think?”

“Well, I don’t know where he keeps it so I
cannot help you.” She jerked her arm from his hand.

He grabbed it again. “Ah, Theresa, don’t you
understand? If you don’t retrieve the piece of the map for me, I
will turn you in. Do not doubt that for a moment.”

Her chin came up. “So, I will go to the
gallows. You will still be missing a piece of the puzzle.”

He grinned down at her. “Then I will have
someone else find it for me” He nodded toward the house. “Which
girl do you think would be most susceptible to my charm? Miss
Westin perhaps?” He shook his head. “No. However, Lady Sophia would
be more than happy to assist me, don’t you think? She is that
susceptible age and would believe anything I told her, an older,
handsome man, if I declared my love. Girls are so easy and simple.”
He lifted a hand to her head and brushed a thumb across her cheek.
“Just as you once were.”

Vincent could see her stiffen in the
moonlight. One of her students had been threatened and Miss
Crawford would not allow any of them to be hurt, not matter how
vexing they were at times. Percer also knew who to pick, who was
the weakest, to do his bidding. How long had he been watching the
house? Had he watched the school prior to them moving here?

“I will find it.” She pulled away and marched
back down the path. His laughter followed her.

There was no one but who shuddered at meeting
her in a

lonely place, in the dust of evening, or by
the light of the moon,

a circumstance that was deemed to be ominous
of some evil.

Wake Not the Dead

Johann Ludwig Tieck

Chapter 15

The girls sat before the fire in their
chamber, trying to get warm.

“So, first, we need to find a piece of a
map,” Eliza announced.

“If not, he will try to seduce me to do it,”
Sophia grumbled. “As if I would fall for someone his age. He is
old. At least thirty.”

“Some gentlemen think highly of themselves
when they should not,” Rosemary assured her.

“Miss Crawford may find it first.” Sophia
stretched her feet and pointed her toes toward the fireplace.

“I hope she does. But if not, we will help
her,” Rosemary insisted.

“Miss Crawford a murderess?” Eliza looked at
her friends. “I don’t think that can be true.”

“One never knows what is the truth. My mother
always says that nobody really knows what goes on in a household,”
Sophia insisted.

“But a murderess? If that were the case, Mrs.
Wiggons would have never let her teach.”

“That is true,” Sophia sighed.

“Finally,” Eliza looked at both of the girls.
“Lord Atwoods’s wife is back from the dead, sleeping in his
chamber.”

Rosemary pulled her robe tight.

“And, our school will not be done before she
begins to get hungry.”

“Oh, dear.” Rosemary clasped the lapels
together at her throat.

“What are we going to do?” Sophia cried.

“All we can do,” Eliza answered. “Find the
map piece, determine if Miss Crawford has murdered anyone, and kill
a vampire.”

* * *

Vincent paced in his chamber and sipped his
brandy. What was he to do now? Even if Miss Crawford was engaged to
Percer, it was not something she agreed to.

He understood her giving up her piece of the
map. But how had she gotten it? There were no Crawfords with
pieces, unless it had come from her mother’s side of the family.
No, it was passed from son, to son, to son, unless there was no
male issue.

He stalked the table beside his bed and
yanked open a drawer. Inside was his piece, along with it was the
list of names. He read through them. “Palmer, Banter, Trent,
Latimer, that would be his, Ford-Creigh and Walters.” There is no
Crawford on the list.

He read over them again. “No,” he uttered in
astonishment. “It can’t be.”

He slammed the door behind him and took the
stairs two at a time and strode for the servant quarters.

“Wesley,” he called out and banged on the
servant’s door.

A moment later it opened. “You could have
used the bell pull,” Wesley offered in a dry tone as he opened the
door.

Vincent marched into his room. “What do you
remember about Ford-Creigh?”

“The man on the list?” Wesley asked and ran
his hands through his already messed hair.

Vincent held the list and pointed to the
name. “Yes, what do you know of him?”

“He died with his wife. I think a boating
accident.”

“What of his children?” Vincent demanded. He
knew Miss Crawford was tied to this family. And, the boating
accident fit with how her parents died...

“He had one child, a girl.”

“What happened to the piece of the map?”

“Supposedly it went to the daughter, though
it could have been given to his brother.” Wesley sank down on the
end of his bed.

Vincent whipped around and approached him.
Though he didn’t know how it was possible, Wesley knew everything.
If asked, he probably knew what the king dined on for dinner.
Vincent stopped questioning how Wesley came by his knowledge long
ago. “What happened to the brother?”

“Sir, what is this about?”

“Just answer me,” Vincent yelled. After a
moment he calmed himself. “I am sorry for disturbing you so late,
but I need to know. What happened to the brother?”

“He was murdered. Shot. By his niece.”

A sick feeling came over Vincent. He was
afraid to ask, but did. “Her name? Do you recall her name?”

“I believe it was Teresa.”

Vincent sank down beside his servant. The
woman he was attracted to - had considered helping - was a
murderess.

“Sir?”

Wesley’s voice intruded on his thoughts and
Vincent turned to look at his valet.

“If that will be all, I would like to
sleep.”

Vincent stood. “Yes, of course. I am sorry to
disturb you.”

Wesley showed him to the door. “I really wish
you could sleep when the rest of us do, sir,” he mumbled.

“So do I,” Vincent agreed after the door shut
and he turned to make his way back to his room.

* * *

Tess paced in her room. She was far too
agitated to sleep. She must plan. If she were smart, she would
disappear tonight, but she could not put Sophia in such danger.
Tess did not doubt for one moment that Percer would try and use the
young woman to find Atwoods’s piece of the map.

She sank down onto the bed. She couldn’t
believe Atwood had one as well. There were only six pieces in
England and she ended up staying in the house that held one, by the
gentleman who was friends with the man who would see her hang. It
was too much.

I have to think
. She fell back on the
bed. Where would Atwood keep his portion? Tess sat up again. His
library, of course. That is where her father had kept his, in a
secret compartment, as had her uncle. All she had to do was locate
the hiding place and all would be well.

Not exactly well, but she would be free, for
a moment. She stood and walked to her wardrobe. Time would be of
the essence and she should prepare what she could now. Tess pulled
the dark blue dress and put it aside, separate from the other
dresses. She also hung her new, fur-lined cloak beside to it.
Beneath, sturdy boots. Finally, her reticule. She went to the
dresser and counted out her money. If she were frugal, it would be
enough to get her to Edinburg and on a ship bound for anywhere far
away from England.

But first, she must find the map. That would
be her priority tomorrow. At least she used his library as her
classroom, which gave her ample time to search. After it was found,
she would wait for Percer to contact her. She just prayed none of
this took long because she was not sure her nerves could stand
it.

* * *

Vincent returned to the library and poured
himself a brandy. He laid the list and map piece on the desk before
he resumed pacing. What to do about Miss Crawford? Did she or did
she not murder her uncle? Did she murder him for a piece of the
map? He did not doubt she had been engaged to Percer at one time,
but clearly that relationship was long over.

He paused and stared into the fire. She had
spoken of evil. Was she talking about herself or Percer? Or,
something entirely different?

There were too many questions and not enough
answers.

Should he try to gain her trust to find out
the truth? But, what if she had murdered her uncle? Wouldn’t he be
required to report her to the authorities? That would make him no
better than Percer. Also, if she had murdered the man, what did
that say about her character? And if she’d murdered her uncle for a
piece of the map, what would stop her from trying to murder
him?

It was too much to think on. He could not
reconcile the teacher, Miss Crawford, with the formerly betrothed
murderess, Theresa Ford-Creigh.

Vincent downed the brandy and decided to turn
in for the night. He stopped when he reached the hallway and
retreated to his desk and picked up the papers. He certainly did
not want to make it too easy for her to find the map. At least not
until he decided what he was going to do.

* * *

The girls were sent to the dining room to
work on their papers. It was the only place with enough work space
for all of them. It also freed Tess up to search, though she would
have to check on them periodically to make sure they were working
and not up to any mischief.

She sat behind Atwood’s desk and opened the
top drawer. Nothing but a few quills and sheets of parchment. She
turned to look in the drawers on either side of the desk. She found
ledgers, legal documents, nothing that resembled a piece of the
map. She sat back in his chair and looked around the room. Where
could he hide it? She knew it was small enough to fit almost
anywhere, especially if folded. Though she doubted he would have
done such a thing for the paper was very old and could tear or be
ruined. So, she needed to look for a square sheet of paper, roughly
the size of the one she once owned.

A safe. She stood. Surely Atwood had a safe
in here. Tess walked the perimeter of the room and lifted the
corners of paintings. Nothing.

Books! It could be hidden within the pages of
a book. A very clever hiding place. But, the man owned hundreds.
Would there be a particular book that held meaning? She stood back
and read the titles on one wall, then the next. With a frustrated
sigh, she fell into a chair. She had no idea which book he would
have placed it in.

Tess sat up. The girls had books in the
dining room. What if one of them was the key? Each book was about a
place or a country, which could also be a clue as to where the
treasure was supposedly hidden. She had no idea where the treasure
was, but perhaps Atwood did. Oh, she had to retrieve it before one
of them lost it.

“Girls,” Tess announced as she stepped into
the dining room. “I want to remind you to be very careful with the
books.”

“We will, Miss Crawford,” one of the younger
girls assured her.

She looked over the table. Books were open
and each girl was writing on parchment. There were no extra pieces
of paper on the desk. Tess strolled the room, hands clasped behind
her back. “You know, sometimes people will mark a page with a piece
of paper, so they can return to where they last read.”

Some of the girls looked up at her and others
continued working. “If any of you come across a piece of paper, in
a book, would you please tell me?”

“Yes, Miss Crawford,” they answered in
unison.

She continued around the table, looking over
their shoulders. “Did anyone find any papers inside of books?”

The older girls looked up at her with
curiosity, but said nothing.

“Well, has anyone?”

“No, Miss Crawford,” they answered again.

Tess sighed. She should have known it would
not be this easy. “If anyone needs me, I will be in the
library.”

* * *

She did not get a moment alone with Mrs.
Wiggons, Natalie or Claudia until classes were done for the day.
Instead of taking tea in the parlor, she asked them to come to her
room. It was the only place she would be assured of privacy. They
needed to know what had happened and prepare for the worst.

“Tess, what is wrong?” Mrs. Wiggons asked her
the moment the door closed.

“Percer is here?”

“What?” Natalie cried. “What are you going to
do?”

Tess told the women of her two meetings and
the dilemma she now face.

“You have to leave,” Claudia insisted.

“What of Sophia?”

“Now that we have been warned, we will be
able to protect her,” Natalie offered.

Tess worried her bottom lip with her
teeth.

“Go, you must leave while you can.” Mrs.
Wiggons marched to her wardrobe and yanked open the door.

“I have nothing to pack my clothing in,” Tess
reminded them.

Without comment, Claudia left the room and
returned a moment later with a bag. “Here, I don’t need it.”

“Thank you.” Tess was grateful she would not
have to leave with only the clothes on her back.

“How are you on funds?” Natalie asked.

“I think I have enough to make it to
Edinburgh and take a ship, somewhere.”

Her two friends shared a look, left the room
and returned mere seconds later. Both placed notes in her hand.

“I can’t take this.” Tess tried to give the
money back.

They refused. “You may need it,” Natalie
insisted.

Mrs. Wiggons began pulling clothing from the
armoire. Two more dresses had been delivered with the cloak. She
now had almost enough clothing for a week.