Parkinson led the way up to the library, then lit a few candles and went back to bed himself. Rand and Kit settled at a round wooden table to decipher the diary.
No sooner had Rand opened the cover than Rose walked in, carrying another candle and wearing a white night rail with a red wrapper tied over it. Although the garments were concealing, their effect was undeniably intimate. She set down the candle and rubbed her eyes. “You found the journal?”
“We did,” Kit said. “Would you like to help us decode it?”
Rand opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, she took a chair. “Of course. Lily asked me to help, because I’m good at that sort of thing.”
She was good at that sort of thing. Inside of an hour, they had Alban’s final entry translated, Rand and Rose doing most of the work while Kit sat back and watched.
Rand noticed that Kit mostly watched Rose.
“What does it say?” Kit asked.
“’I’m going to do it,’” Rose quoted. “’The time has come.’”
“It’s not enough.” Rand rubbed the back of his neck. “We need to find something that clearly implies murder. The rest of this entry’s no more than a recitation of his day.”
“Then we do the one before it,” Kit said.
Rand sent him a wry glance. “We?”
“Hey, we all do what we can. I found the thing, didn’t I?”
“With Rex’s help,” Rand conceded.
Rose went to a cabinet and poured them each a measure of Madeira, herself included. Then they went back to work.
Another hour passed, an hour of slow but steady progress.
“We’re going to find the evidence,” Rose said, adding to the ever-growing column of words they’d managed to decipher. “It’s here. I know it.” She looked up, her dark eyes troubled. “He was wicked, wasn’t he, your brother?”
Rand nodded, afraid to be optimistic, but feeling Rose was right. They were going to find their proof. Then he’d just need to convince his father.
They puzzled out a few more words of an entry dealing with the sale of some cattle. “You’re going to take care of my sister,” Rose said while scribbling some notes. “And I expect you to be kind to her all your days.”
He looked up. “I’ll cherish her like no man has ever cherished a woman.”
“You’d better,” she said darkly, then jotted another word.
A smile on his face, Kit watched her and sipped his Madeira.
“‘The date draws near,’” Rand read when the entry was complete. “‘If I am to master her, steps must be taken.’”
“Not enough,” Kit said. “He could be talking about a horse.”
“But he isn’t.” Rose reached to refill his goblet. “He’s talking about murder. Another entry. Let’s get back to work.”
She seemed tireless, and Rand was rarely tempted to sleep when faced with a puzzle. Especially one this important.
“Lady Rose,” Kit started.
“Hmm?” She crossed out a word and wrote another.
“Rand led me to believe you were, ah, a mite antagonistic concerning his relationship with your sister.”
“Well, that,” she said, “was before I got to know the fellow properly. I didn’t feel he was good enough for her at first. But now…”
Her soft smile said it all. Although she’d had other reasons to oppose the match than those she was willing to admit, Rand knew her change of heart was genuine. Miraculously, she seemed truly happy for him and Lily. And approving.
It would be an enormous relief for Lily, he knew, and for him as well. And now, when it seemed everything might work out after all, that seemed more important than ever.
Several hours and four entries later, at last they hit gold.
Rand sat back, staring at the page.
“Read it,” Kit said.
“‘Margery begged and begged,’” Rose read softly, “‘but Hawkridge refused as always.’” She paused, glancing up at Rand. “He called your father Hawkridge?”
Rand shrugged. “Ours is not a warm family.”
“You’ll be warm now,” she warned, “to my sister. Or—”
“Peace, Rose. I love Lily more than my life. Read the rest, will you?”
Kit laughed. At a time like this, he laughed. If Rand hadn’t been so tense, he’d have reached over and slapped him. But in his present mood, he feared he might do his old friend permanent damage.
“‘Hawkridge refused as always,’” Rose continued slowly. “‘I followed Margery to Armstrong’s place, her sobbing all the way. And there, they plotted to elope.’” She reached for her Madeira. “Here,” she said, passing Rand their notes. “You do the rest.”
He took a deep breath before reading, for the first time, the individual words they’d translated, all pieced together. “‘When I overheard their plans, I felt I couldn’t draw air. My heart swelled to such a size it filled my chest, squeezing my lungs, robbing me of sustenance. I cannot allow this to happen. Margery belongs to me. They leave in a week, and before that, I must kill him.’”
“There it is,” Kit said admiringly.
“Yes, there it is,” Rose echoed with a satisfied sigh.
“Thank you, Lord above,” Rand whispered, closing his eyes.
After a moment, he heard Rose clear her throat. “You’re welcome,” she said archly.
When Rand laughed and opened his eyes, he realized his vision was blurred. “And thank you both, too,” he said fervently, digging out a handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “From the bottom of my heart. If—when—Lily and I wed, I’ll be silently thanking you as we recite our vows.”
Dawn was breaking when they left the library. Rose had made peace with the fact that he’d chosen Lily over her, and amazingly, she and Rand were friends. But Kit, Rand was sure, wanted to be more than friends with Rose.
A shame she hadn’t seemed to really notice him.
“Go to Lily,” she told Rand. “Go tell her what we’ve found.”
“Go to her in her chamber? You…you’ll come along, won’t you?”
“No.” She flashed the sort of smile that only Rose could flash. “But if you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming in, and I’m bringing something pointy.”
Rand didn’t need a second invitation.
Lily looked like an angel, her hair a
