Josie closed the book, shoved it out of her way, and spread the parchment flat on the desk. The map was familiar to her: the wavy lines to indicate water, the jagged coastline, the three islands. At the bottom was a compass whose ink had been smeared so north was unclear, and at the top—what should have been the middle—was a clean rip. The map had been torn neatly in half.
Ashley leaned back in the chair. “So your grandfather really was a pirate.”
Josie nodded. “Of course, he was. I told you.”
“But your parents always say that story is nothing but rubbish.”
“Well, look for yourself.” Josie pointed to the map. “Does that look like rubbish?”
Her grandfather had first shown her the map when she was only five. She’d been sworn to secrecy because Nathan Hale said the treasure was bad luck. Even talking of the treasure was bad luck. So for thirteen years she had kept the secret.
Until now.
Ashley frowned at the parchment. “But if this is a treasure map, where’s the X? I thought X always marked the spot.”
Josie inclined her head in admiration. Obviously, she had revealed her secret to the right person. “That, Miss Brittany, is a good question.”
Ashley bowed from the waist, and said in an imperious tone, “Thank you, Miss Hale. I thought so.”
Josie lifted the document and pointed to the edge. Minuscule fragments of the paper had frayed out from where the map had been folded over and over and then torn in half. “The X is on this portion of the map.”
“The portion you don’t have.” Ashley’s eyes gleamed with excitement in the dim light of the room.
“Precisely.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“I do.” Josie jumped off the desk and crossed to the large window on the outside wall. With a flourish, she threw the drapes wide. A cloud of dust billowed out, and both girls dissolved into coughing fits.
Ashley, who was farther away, recovered first. Waving a hand in front of her face, she croaked, “Well, I can see those curtains haven’t been aired since the time of your grandfather. Is the X in the dust?”
Josie’s eyes were watering, and she wiped away the moisture before replying. “No. I was attempting to show you that.” She pointed out the window at the white bricks of the neighboring town house.
Ashley rose and squinted at the window through the hazy light. “Who is he?”
“Not who, but where,” Josie corrected. “That is where I suspect the other half of the map to be hidden.”
Ashley raised a brow. “In that house?”
Josie gave her a mischievous smile. “Do you know who lives next door to this, my grandfather’s house?”
“Don’t tell me.” But Josie could see by the look on Ashley’s face that she’d already made the connection.
“That’s right. Stephen Doubleday, the new Lord Westman. Grandson of my grandfather’s partner.” “That must be who that man is, then.” Ashley pointed at the window, and Josie followed the path of her finger.
And found herself staring directly at Lord Westman, standing at his library window. Josie clamped a hand on Ashley’s arm and pulled her down to the floor, then hastily tugged the heavy draperies closed again.
“What was that about?” Ashley coughed from the dust she’d kicked up when she landed on the floor.
“Shh! I don’t want him to see me.”
“Then why—”
“Shh!”
Ashley sighed. “Stop shushing me. He can’t hear us, and if you didn’t want him to see us, then why were we standing in front of the window directly opposite his library?”
“I didn’t know that was his library.” Josie got to her knees and made a small slit in the window coverings. “I’ve never seen his drapes open before. I rarely open these.” She peeked through the slit until she caught sight of Westman again. He’d moved away from the window and was standing at his desk, looking down. His shoulders were broad and his waist narrow. His wavy brown hair fell in a queue long past his collar. Josie licked her lips.
