The gardens around them were silent, and their breath bloomed in great clouds as they made their way forward. It was exceedingly cold, and the snow was beginning to frost, creating a pleasing crunch every time they took a step.
As they reached the fountain, both exclaimed in astonishment to see the final clue beneath the ice that had formed around the pool.
Nicholas caught a stone from the floor and began gentlychipping away at the surface as Clarissa watched. He looked back at her to ensure she was in favor of his methods. As he did so, the sun emerged from behind a cloud, setting the pins in Miss Crompton’s hair alight with sparkling beauty. Her dark brown eyes were excited as she gazed at their final clue, her lips slightly parted.
Nicholas could barely catch a full breath before he turned back to his task, his hands shaking a little as he finally broke through the layer of ice. He was finally able to retrieve the final piece of the puzzle.
He fished it out finding that it was a small wooden box and inside it was a folded-up piece of paper that was quite dry.
It is my property and belongs to me, but others use it more often.
They both puzzled over it for some time. Miss Crompton’s brow furrowed as she looked this way and that. It was as though she felt the gardens around them might answer for them.
“Something that belongs to you, perhaps?”
“There must be more than one team who will find this, though,” he said in puzzlement. “Although I am gratified that we are the first here for our side, for no one else had broken the ice.”
Just as he said so, Lady Wilde and Henry appeared, and it was clear they were the final players for their game.
Nicholas hastily withdrew, not wishing to attract any more attention from Lady Wilde. They walked back to the house, still pondering the riddle.
“If Lord Addison is to find the same clue, then it must pertain to both of you,” Clarissa said thoughtfully.
Nicholas shook his head. “I cannot think what might do that unless it is stubbornness.”
She laughed prettily, and he felt an overwhelming yearning to hold her hand again, but she was surefooted across the flatgrass, and there was no occasion to offer.
“What about something on your person!” she said suddenly, turning to him and looking over him in a way that quickened his heart.
“About my person?” he asked. “Whatever do you—”
But even as he said it, he recalled his aunt coming to his room that morning and gifting him with a handkerchief for his pocket. She had told him it was a gift she had been meaning to give him for some time, and she had embroidered his initials on it.
“It is my property, and it belongs to me, but others use it more often,” he said. “My God, she is a wicked woman—my name. The clue is my name. Others use it more often than I do, but it is mine. She gave me this today, and I did not even think.” He said, his fingers moving to his pocket. He pulled the square of fabric out, and as he did so, a key, neatly folded within it, tumbled forth and spiraled onto the snowy earth beneath them.
Miss Crompton cried out in triumph. Nicholas saw a piece of paper flutter out also, and she caught it gamely as they both read the final clue.
Your prize awaits if you are fast enough to reach it.
It is where I am.
“Drawing room,” Nicholas cried just as he heard an answering shout from the small garden they had just left. With great speed, Miss Crompton suddenly started running across the lawn with a high-pitched squeal of laughter. He wished he could bottle the sound to listen to it over and over again.
They ran together, breath coming hard, the freezing wind biting at them as they ran at full speed back to the house ahead of Lady Wilde and Henry, who were hard on their heels.
They sprinted inside, just as they saw the other teams, still in the middle of their hunt, watching them with expressions of disappointment.
Nicholas, who was rather taller than his companion, burst into the drawing room to find his aunt standing in the center of the room with a huge smile on her face. She clapped her hands triumphantly as Nicholas ran forward and presented her with the key.
They were both panting as Henry thundered into the room behind them.
“What nonsense!” he exclaimed in feigned indignation. “They have most egregiously deceived us!”
Nicholas turned to him and laughed heartily as his aunt placed the key into a small lock in a chest beside her. Inside was a beautiful book of antique poetry that he knew she had owned for many years.
Lady Eleanor handed the prize to Nicholas, who instantly gave it to Miss Crompton, and their eyes met with happy glee. It was all the more perfect that they had spoken of their mutual love for poetry on this very hunt.
It was as though the prize had been designed for them, and Nicholas felt intense gratitude that he had been lucky enough to return to England at just the right time.
