Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter (21 page)

‘Take all of his treasures into care,' Emily suggested. ‘Don't single out the picture as anything special. We could do what you want by reading him some of the treasure trove book I brought from London for him. I'm sure you could think of a way of getting him to let you take care of his prizes.'

‘Excellent!'

They had a happy time with the children, ending with a rollicking time in the nursery before bed. And Emily was right. The book,
Treasure Trove and Treasure Seekers
, was just the thing to persuade James not only to keep his own treasure trove secret, but to leave it all with his uncle for safe keeping.

 

That night over dinner William gave them all an account of his visit to Charlwood with Maria Fenton. He ended by saying, ‘It seems obvious that James's picture is connected in some way with Edric Fenton's hiding place for the jewels. And I'm fairly sure Maria knows that fact, but has been keeping it from her associates.'

‘You think she wants to find them for herself?' asked Emily.

‘I wouldn't be surprised. As Edric Fenton's widow, she quite possibly believes she has a right to them.'

‘Apart from the Vallerons, perhaps,' said Philip drily.

‘Our Maria wouldn't let a little thing like that worry her,' said William.

‘But, William, why has Maria only recently started looking for them herself? It's over a year since Edric Fenton died,' asked Rosa.

Philip broke in. ‘I can guess why. Kidman and the
others somehow learned about Charlwood and she had to wait until they had finished searching the house. When they didn't find anything, they came back to her and wanted to know if Fenton had said anything else.'

‘And she fended them off by telling them that he had mentioned the fountain.'

‘That's why K…Kavanagh, or Kidman as we now know him to be, was there that day!' Emily exclaimed. ‘But it isn't the real fountain, but the picture—William, do you mean to tell us that James's picture is the key to it all?'

‘I think so. And so does Maria Fenton, judging by the rig ma role she told me today.'

‘But how?'

‘That's what we're going to find out.'

‘You make it sound so easy,' said Emily, doubt fully. ‘But it isn't. Not with Maria Fenton and Kidman both on our trail.'

‘Emily, look at it! We have so much on our side. We now know the picture is significant. Maria may know that, but I'm not at all sure that Kidman does. That means we have a very good idea of where the Valleron jewels are hidden—or at least which room they're hidden in. We have the picture, the key you could call it, in our possession. Not one of the others, not even Maria, has any idea where that picture is at the moment. And, possibly most important, they haven't the slightest idea that we know anything at all about Charlwood's connection with the Valleron robbery, and certainly not that we are looking for the jewellery ourselves.'

Emily pulled a face. ‘I was wrong,' she said. ‘It will be as easy as falling off a log.'

‘Or out of a tree?' She gave him an exasperated look, but then spoilt it with a smile she tried to suppress but
couldn't. He nodded and went on, ‘Perhaps not quite as easy as that, but I do believe we have a good chance of success. Shall we have a look at the picture?'

They put the picture on the table and examined it. It was painted just as badly as the others, and like them it had no frame, but consisted simply of a canvas on a stretcher. A large nine had been scribbled on the back.

Rosa had been feeling round the edge but she suddenly exclaimed, ‘Ouch! That hurt!' She examined her fingers. ‘But it hasn't broken the skin. What is it?'

William was already examining the edge of the stretcher, and passing his finger to and fro over something underneath. ‘It's a very small piece of metal like a flat hook. You must have pinched your finger on it. It's very firmly fixed.' They crowded round to look.

‘That must be some sort of mechanism,' Emily exclaimed. ‘It will act as a key, I know it will! I can't wait to take it to Charlwood to try it.'

Philip's handsome face had a look of concern on it. ‘Emmy, aren't you for get ting how dangerous these people are?'

‘No, but they won't suspect what we're doing, will they? William, let's go tomorrow. Let's all go!'

William looked at her. Recently Emily had been subdued in his presence, had spoken to him always with a touch of reserve. They had both been at fault, he knew. But tonight she was as eager as she had been months ago when he had first shown her Charlwood and its gardens. The memory of her eagerness, her openness then, was very sweet. On the other hand, Philip was right. With people like Kidman there was always a risk. He knew that Philip would never let Rosa anywhere near the place at the moment, whatever Rosa felt, and
he had no wish to start an argument between them. He said slowly, ‘I think you and I could go, Emily. It would be quite natural for us to have a look at what is being done there. But if we go tomorrow, I'd like to leave the children behind in the care of Philip and Rosa.'

Philip was by no means happy with the idea of Emily going to Charlwood but, after a certain amount of discussion, he eventually agreed. The trip would ostensibly be to inspect the house and the fountain court, where Emily would plant a few bulbs. She would have with her a basket of small gardening tools and bulbs, which William would carry for her.

‘There's just one thing,' he said, somewhat hesitantly. ‘I…I may have given our Maria the impression that you and I…'

‘That we had fallen out? How unlikely!' said Emily.

He nodded. ‘She thinks you still regard me as a fortune hunter. She doesn't know about the money.' He regarded her sardonically and said, ‘So, if we meet her, it would be better if you managed not to regard me too affectionately, and even bring yourself to address a few sharp words to me—I know how difficult this will be for you, but you must try, for the sake of verisimilitude.'

‘I think I shall be able to manage that,' Emily said with a slight edge. ‘Easily.'

 

The next day they set off in the gig. They were both dressed suitably in old clothes and stout boots, the perfect picture of a couple interested in doing some gardening. After she was seated, William handed Emily a large basket and climbed in beside her. He said, ‘I apologise if it spoils your dignity to keep hold of the
basket. I've wrapped the picture up and put it under that sack of bulbs. And if all goes well, on our return we might be carrying it and seventy thousand pounds' worth of extras. One wouldn't wish to leave such a load lying in the back of the gig.'

‘You really think we shall find the jewels, then?'

‘Do you know, Emily, when I look at you now in those dreadful boots, with your hair scraped back and your dress so drab, looking so like the girl who tried to pull the wool over my eyes, and compare that with how lovely you can look—inspecting my gardens in an apricot dress, talking over dinner in the candlelight at your grandfather's, or, most of all, en chanting me on a hillside in May—I am encouraged to believe that anything is possible.'

‘William! Please, you mustn't tease me. I know what you think of me.'

He stopped the gig and turned to face her. The road was deserted, and Emily was just about to ask what was wrong when he pulled her to him and kissed her hard. ‘Believe me, Emily,' he said as he released her, ‘you have no idea what I think of you! But I have no intention of telling you at the moment, either. Walk on!' And, before Emily had recovered her breath, the gig set off again.

‘What do you mean by that? This is not what I came with you for, sir! How dare you kiss me so roughly and then…and then… What do you
mean
?'

‘Not at the moment. We have business on our hands.'

Emily was incensed. ‘Let me tell you, William, I don't need any encouragement at all to speak sharply to you. It comes quite naturally. You are the most disagreeable man I ever met, the most in sufferable…'

He only laughed. ‘Excellent! Keep it up!'

 

When they arrived at Charlwood, Emily jumped nimbly down from the gig without waiting for William's help and walked off, back straight, and chin in the air, not even turning round when William called to tell her she had for got ten her basket. This amused him so much that he had difficulty in keeping a frown on his face, as he picked up the basket and strode in pursuit. No one watching their manner could doubt that there was something very wrong with their relationship. Once inside, Emily turned to him. ‘William, someone was waiting at the top of the drive! I saw him as I got down.'

‘Two, in fact. Barnaby Drewitt and friend. Don't worry about them. They're here in case of trouble. Where is that picture?'

They went into the parlour and, after William had put the basket on the floor, Emily care fully took out James's picture. William was examining the ones still on the wall, and re-hanging them ac cording to the numbers on the back. When he reached number eight he found Emily waiting for him with the ninth in her hands. ‘Now!' he said, and hung the picture of the fountain in its square. Nothing happened.

‘It's not fully inside its panel,' said Emily. ‘Press it in harder.'

He pressed, and with the slightest of whispers the panel slid back. They looked at one another in awe. ‘It worked!' said William. ‘Emily, it worked!'

‘I can't believe it could be so simple. Is there…is there anything inside?'

William put a long arm inside the hole, and, not without difficulty, drew out a canvas bag. ‘It's devilishly heavy,' he said. ‘No, I'll put it down. You couldn't hold it.'

When the bag was out on the floor beside the basket, William undid a knot or two and, when it was open, held it out to Emily. ‘You look,' he said. Emily peered into the bag, and drew out a chain. It was of heavily worked gold links, set with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires. Even in the dimly lit parlour, the stones were dazzling, sending out sparks of fire. Emily whispered, ‘How in credibly beautiful!'

‘There's a lot more here, too. I think we may safely say we've found the Valleron jewels, don't you?'

Emily was still gazing at the chain. ‘William, I'm frightened. I hadn't realised… This alone must be worth hundreds, if not thou sands, of pounds. What are you going to do with it?'

‘Pack it up as quickly as we can before anyone else sees it. Get it back to Shearings safely. I shall take it to a bank in London as soon as possible—perhaps even tomorrow. Then I shall see it is eventually returned to the Valleron family. Don't you agree?'

‘Yes, yes. I want it out of our hands as soon as possible—it frightens me. It has cost too many lives already. Let's go, quickly.'

‘Not yet. First we have to put things back as they were. Put the jewellery and money into this sack.' He emptied out the sack of bulbs, which, to Emily's surprise, also contained quite a number of pebbles. ‘Then put the bulbs and stones into the canvas bag and tie it up as it was.' As she looked at him, amazed, he said, ‘Don't waste time, but do as I say! Right! Hand me the bag.' He put the bag, now heavy with bulbs and pebbles, back into its hiding place, and care fully pulled the picture, together with its piece of panelling, back into position. When he heard the click he took the picture away and handed it to her.

‘Back in the basket with this and the sack, and then we put the tools on top. Don't worry—I'll carry it. We mustn't let it appear to be heavier than it was before, and you would find that difficult. Seventy thousand pounds' worth of gold and jewels is quite literally a heavy responsibility.'

 

On the way down the drive Emily said, ‘I'm impressed with the way you planned this. Do you always think it all out be fore hand—the stones, the sack, all the rest? And I notice that we now have protection in the form of Barnaby Drewitt not far behind.'

‘It's just a habit. Sometimes in South America my life depended on it. In the past I've enjoyed adventure.'

Emily sighed. ‘And now, I suppose, this adventure is all over. The jewels are found and will soon be back with their rightful owners.'

‘It isn't over yet. There's still Kidman and his gang. And look over there at the Dower House. Someone has to pay for that. No, it isn't over yet, Emily.' Suddenly he put his hand on her arm and said very quietly, ‘Maria Fenton! She's over there at the Lodge, and she's seen us. Remember to act up!'

As they got nearer, he added, ‘Act, damn it!'

Emily took a breath and launched into an attack. ‘Must I tell you again, sir, that I will not have you speak to me like that! You may have no money, but you could at least have some manners! The sooner you find someone else to put up with your insults and look after your brats, the better! I cannot imagine why you insisted on bringing me here today at all. The garden is very well as it is. What are you doing now?'

William pulled up at the Lodge and got down. ‘Why,
good morning, Mrs Fenton!' He bowed and raised his eyebrows. ‘May I help you?'

‘Good morning,' Maria said. ‘I…I think I may have lost something yesterday. A…a button. I was asking the man here, but he's new and doesn't know anything about it. I suppose it doesn't really matter, but its design was unique.' She looked pale and worried—quite unlike herself.

‘Why would you think you had lost a button here of all places, Mrs Fenton?' asked Emily coldly.

For a moment Maria Fenton looked blank, then, with a flash of her old spirit, she said, ‘Why, when dear William showed me round the house before it was burnt down, of course! Did you not know?' She turned to William. ‘Have you heard any more about my picture? I can't believe it is lost for ever.'

‘William, Rosa has been looking after your children for long enough. We must hurry back,' Emily said impatiently.