The Secret Christmas Ciphers (10 page)

“What the hell?” Derek jumped to his feet, then dropped back into his chair as the color drained from his face.

Abigail felt her heart begin to race. Derek looked as though he’d seen a ghost. She hurried to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder. “What is it, my dear? What’s wrong?”

After shaking his head as though to resettle his brain, Derek again got to his feet. “Aaron Levenger is an old friend of mine who is supposed to be dead. Could he still be alive? My god, I pray this is no joke. I must see for myself.”

Derek had barely taken a step toward the corridor when a gentleman Abigail had never seen before suddenly appeared in the doorway. He then paused and stood staring uncertainly at Derek. As James had said, the man looked to be in poor condition. A scar, still relatively new judging by its angry appearance, ran from just below his left ear to the middle of his chin. His left arm was in a sling, and he was thin to the point of gauntness.

Derek halted so quickly that Abigail, trailing behind him, almost collided with his back. She immediately stepped to his side, then glanced into his face. Because he appeared speechless from shock, she took matters into her own hands.

“Do come in, Mr. Levenger.” She smiled and motioned toward the nearest chair. “Have a seat. What can we provide for you to drink or, perhaps, to eat?”

The man, who’d been staring at Derek with a frown of concern pulling at his brow, transferred his gaze to Abigail. “Thank you, my lady. I see my presence has startled my old friend. But I’ll accept your offer of a seat and something to drink. I’ve been jostled about in my coach for the last ten hours and would certainly welcome something bracing, brandy if you have it.”

Abigail glanced at Derek again and was relieved to see that some color had returned to his face. Then, as though at last convinced the man was real rather than a specter, Derek strode across the room and very gingerly grasped the man’s right hand, pumping it enthusiastically.

“Dear god in heaven, Aaron, but I’m happy to see you alive. But how, man? We saw the French make off with your body.”

The man grinned. “A long story, my friend, and one I’ll share with you, but preferably after I’m in front of a warm fire with a glass of brandy in my hand and perhaps a capon or two in a plate nearby.”

Abigail spoke up. “Derek, my dear, pull a chair up to the fireplace while I tell Cook to prepare a plate for our guest.”

She would have walked out of the room, assuming the men would want to be alone, but Mr. Levenger waved her back. “If I may be so bold, my lady, as to ask if you are—or were—Miss Pickering?”

Startled by the question, Abigail glanced toward Derek, but his expression had suddenly hardened, almost as if he was determined to display no emotion.

Feeling as though she was wading into waters of unknown depths, Abigail nevertheless nodded. “My maiden name was Pickering. And why do you ask?”

Derek suddenly appeared to come to life. He took a step toward his friend. “Whatever you have in mind to do, Aaron, it isn’t necessary.”

“It is for me,” Mr. Levenger replied, his jaw set. “If the lady will allow me.” For a second he appeared to sway but caught himself.

“For heavens sake, Derek, take Mr. Levenger over near the fire and pour him a drink while I send orders to the kitchen to have something nourishing prepared for him. I’ll be right back, gentlemen, and then, Mr. Levenger, you may talk to me for as long as you wish.”

She waited until she saw Derek guiding his friend toward the fireplace before she hurried out to find a maid and send instructions to the kitchen for a tray to be prepared and sent to the library. Then, after visiting with Mrs. Brownley for a minute, she made her way to the nearest drawing room and sat down, determined to give the men time to catch up on their news.

Abigail waited until she had ensured that a tray containing a variety of dishes had been taken to the library for Mr. Levenger. Then, assuming he would prefer to eat without an audience, she waited in the adjoining drawing room for twenty more minutes. Finally, she made her way back to the library.

Both men stood when she entered the room. They smiled, and Abigail was pleased to see that both appeared considerably more relaxed than they had earlier.

Derek came around the desk to meet her. “There you are, my dear. I was just going to come looking for you. Aaron has been filling me in on his adventures over the last several months, and now he wants to talk to you. What he will tell you must not go beyond this room, but I’ve explained to him that you’ve been helping me with the ciphers and that you can be depended upon to keep state secrets.”

Intrigued, Abigail allowed Derek to take her hand and lead her to an extra chair he had already placed near the fireplace and to the right of Mr. Levenger. She took her seat and addressed their guest. “I hope you were provided with a substantial meal, sir.”

“I was indeed. Thank you for your hospitality. And also for your patience. I have obtained your husband’s permission to share some information with you. As he indicated, portions of it will always be considered a state secret, but I feel you have a right to be informed about what took place in the past.”

His solemn expression sent prickles of fear curling through Abigail’s stomach. She and Derek had just come to an understanding about the past. She didn’t really want it dredged up again. At the same time, she could judge that Derek’s and this man’s pasts were entwined in some way. If they wanted her to know their secrets, she hoped she was brave enough to hear them and live with whatever Mr. Levenger was about to say.

“Very well,” she murmured.

“I’ll begin,” Derek interjected. “When I was still at university, I was approached by someone who shall remain nameless asking me to undertake some missions to secretly obtain information on the war plans of the French. In order to obscure my activities, I was to pretend to be a wastrel, addicted to gambling and drinking and other unsavory pastimes.”

Abigail nodded. “I remember that time very well. You had promised to return to the castle during your Christmas break and speak to my father. Instead you went to London. Stories about your wild ways made their way back to the country almost on a weekly basis.”

Derek winced. “I had hoped you weren’t hearing all of the rumors that I knew to be floating around. Unfortunately, I had no way of communicating with you. Everything I did was considered vital to the war effort.”

Mr. Levenger leaned forward. “I, too, had been approached to make periodic trips to the continent to gather information, and Derek and I frequently traveled together. We consequently became good friends. On one of those trips, I confided in Derek, telling him that I was in love with Melonnie Pyle and had already acquired a special license. Melonnie and I planned to marry as soon as I returned from our current mission.”

Abigail’s breath caught at the mention of Melonnie but she said nothing. Mr. Levenger continued.

“I suppose I had a premonition of sorts, because I asked Derek to look after Melonnie if anything should happen to me. The next day our small group was attacked by a gang of French soldiers who had become separated from their unit. I was shot and then trampled by a panicked horse. My fellow countrymen heard the Frenchmen pronounce me dead, but they wanted my body for a reward that was being offered by their government. They made off with me, and everyone assumed I was dead.”

“But you were not, obviously,” Abigail said.

“No, but they thought I was going to die. They left me with a peasant and promised to return for my body the following week. I don’t know what happened, but they never came back. The peasant, hoping for a reward, kept me imprisoned in his barn, feeding me only enough to keep me alive. I was already very weak due to my wounds, but I managed to occasionally steal part of an apple that had dropped from the horse’s mouth and to spurt a little milk from the cow’s teat into my mouth. In this manner, I gradually regained my strength to the point that I was able to escape and make my way through the countryside until I found an English troop and was thus rescued.”

“Good heavens,” Abigail said. “What a horrible experience for you.”

He nodded solemnly. “But not half so horrible as returning home to find that Melonnie had died in childbirth, along with our baby boy. My only consolation was learning that Derek had planned to marry her so that her reputation would not be ruined. And had she lived, I know he would have kept his word to me and looked after her.”

“I, too, was devastated when Melonnie died,” Derek interjected. “She was a wonderful woman, and she loved you very much. I shall never forget the degree of her grief when she was told you were dead.”

Mr. Levenger ducked his head and blinked rapidly for several seconds. “She was the love of my life,” he murmured, “and I shall miss her until the day I die.”

He looked up then and captured Abigail’s gaze. “I wanted you to know why Derek offered for Melonnie. I was aware that he loved you. He mentioned you frequently during our missions and worried constantly because he could not confide in you about our activities.”

Derek nodded. “I feared you would not wait for me, especially after it became known that Melonnie and I were engaged to be married. But I could not reveal the true reasons for our proposed marriage and thus betray a friend I believed to have died.”

“I understand that,” Abigail said, smiling for the first time since she’d entered the room. “I suppose that in the deepest part of my heart, I’ve known all along that you had a very good reason for what I saw as a betrayal or else I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you. Unfortunately, I was too stubborn to admit to my true feelings.”

Their guest shifted in his chair, and Abigail realized that he must be extremely tired. “I hope, Mr. Levenger, that you will do us the honor of spending a few days with us. I’ve already requested that a chamber be prepared for you, and you’re welcome to rest for as long as you like.”

He smiled. “I appreciate that, my lady, and I’ll avail myself of your offer. I feel as though I could sleep for a week.”

“In that case, I’ll ask the housekeeper to show you upstairs and you shall rest as long as you wish. Later, if you feel up to it, you can join us for dinner.”

Half an hour later, after making all necessary arrangements for the comfort of their guest, Abigail returned to the library. Derek sat behind the desk leaning over the last cipher. He looked up when she stepped into the room, then laid the cipher on top of the pile they’d already completed.

“That’s the last one,” he announced. “Still nothing of any importance, but I suspect Father will be taking them to the city tomorrow in any case. I still have a few days before I’m expected back.” He stood and stepped around the desk, then gazed at Abigail with a question in his eyes.

She walked to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. “Can you ever forgive me,” she murmured into his waistcoat. Her voice was so muffled, she feared he couldn’t hear her, but he obviously did.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I don’t blame you for doubting me. You had reason enough.”

“Maybe, but it shouldn’t have required your expressing your feelings in a cipher for me to have faith in you. I knew in my heart all along that you had been faithful to me. I just wouldn’t admit it to either of us.”

“That’s all in the past, my dear. We have each other now, and that’s what is important.”

Abigail looked up, gazing into his eyes. “You’re right. But that cipher you sent me will always be among my most treasured possessions. I shall put it away in a very secure place, a place known only to the two of us. That way, I can take it out from time to time and read it, knowing that of all the people we’re ever likely to meet, only the two of us will be able to decode it.”

“Our own secret cipher,” Derek said, his eyes twinkling.

“I have an idea,” Abigail declared. A smile tugged at her lips.

“And what might that be, my love?”

“Every Christmas we should compose a cipher for each other. That way we can keep a record of our years together and an expression of our love for each other. I can secret them in my special hiding place. This exchange of ciphers could become our own special tradition.”

“You, my dear Abigail, are the only woman I have ever known who would request a cipher for a Christmas gift.”

Abigail tightened her arms around him. “But that will be the Christmas gift I shall look forward to the most, my darling husband.”

“I agree on one condition,” Derek murmured, gazing into her eyes. “We must seal our bargain with a kiss.”

Abigail chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain, my love, but I agree. A kiss it shall be, now and every Christmas for the rest of our lives.”

Epilogue

Melton Castle, Boxing Day, 2075

The fifteenth Earl of Melton stomped into the library and held up a crumbling bundle of papers. “What in the world are these?” he demanded, waving them in front of his bride.

“Stop it, Derrick,” the new Lady Melton ordered. “Can you not see those are fragile? Let me have them. Where did you find them anyway?”

The earl handed the bundle to his wife. “They were tucked away in the bottom of that old chest that supposedly was moved from the master suite into the attic decades ago. You know—the chest you fell in love with and have demanded be moved into your sitting room. I was checking to make sure it isn’t infested with insects and found these under a false bottom. The ink is faded but they’re still legible. The problem is, they’re nothing but gobbledygook.”

Lady Melton carried the top sheet over to the library window and stared at it for several seconds. “It appears to be some sort of code.”

“Code, you say?” The earl stepped to her side and slipped an arm around her waist as he leaned in to look more closely at the yellowed sheet of paper. “I can’t make heads or tails out of it.”

“Nor can I, my dear, but that doesn’t mean it’s gobbledygook. Perhaps these were secret messages that were used during the war.”

“Which war?”