“I couldn’t agree more,” Kate told her. “Vi, what do you think about the scratches on the bottom of the cup?”
“I think we need a better view.”
“Oh,” Victor said and Vi winked at him and darted inside, racing up the stairs with her brother at her heels. “Jack will kill me,” he called to her, but he did sound worried.
“But not me, so—”
“Devil,” Victor cursed and then laughed. True joy was edging into his voice.
They’d passed several shocked servants and other than calling out to ask if Ham and Jack had come back, they didn’t stop. Vi found the attic and hurried to one of the dusty windows facing the grounds. She struggled with the warped wood but Victor joined her a moment later and they fought against the old frame together. When the window was open, Vi leaned out, but she couldn’t get the view she wanted.
“Don’t you do it,” Victor warned her, but Vi was already crawling through. He grabbed onto the back of her dress, holding her tightly. “Vi, sister mine, I won’t ever get over losing you, but I wouldn’t grieve for too long because that man of yours will murder me quickly if you fall.”
She kicked off her shoes. “Then don’t let me fall.” She held out her arm and with a sigh, Victor took hold of her wrist.
“Lean out,” she told him.
“Are you mad?”
Vi laughed. “Victor, the view!”
“Vi, your life,” he countered, but there was humor in his voice. “Be careful.”
Vi took in the scene sprawled before her.
“Do you see anything?” Victor asked, eagerness in his voice.
“I don’t know. Do you have a sketch pad?”
Victor laughed and then cursed her. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Pull me in,” Vi told him. When she crawled through the window Victor lifted her down.
“Never tell Jack,” he whispered as if someone were listening.
“That was fun,” Vi told him.
He grabbed his heart and said, “Next time I’ll climb out.”
“But I can’t pull you back in.”
He made a face. “You aren’t the only one who wants to uncover treasure. Always doing the fun parts. Leaving all the work to the gents. Jack is probably chasing the history of the treasure, calling professors, looking at land deeds. Here you are, gossiping and climbing on roofs.”
“That’s how it goes when you don’t have a criminal heart.” Vi didn’t even sound sorry. “He can live vicariously through us.”
Chapter 13
“Vi is stealing all the fun,” Denny told them when they came back down the stairs. “When we were children, she was the damsel in distress and we were Allan Quatermain. I feel like you’ve stolen my fate.”
“Independent women save themselves,” Kate told Denny and Victor before facing Vi. “Did you see anything?”
“I don’t know,” Vi muttered. “I feel like we could be easily missing lines that have grown over. If the scratches are a map, it could be of secret passageways, the ruins, some path in the woods. We need clues that link the scratches to real life.”
“But first,” Rita announced, “coffee. My headache has faded, my stomach has improved, and I could use something more than tea and biscuits.”
Vi fiddled with her food as they ate; her gaze was fixed out of the French doors, staring towards the gardens. Kate eyed Victor, who said, “We need to get back to our girls.”
“I should like to nap,” Harriet told the others. “I find that little provides more pleasure than a nap in the afternoon. My grandfather didn’t understand the luxury he was giving me when he provided enough to allow me a lifetime of naps.”
They finished their lunch in good spirits and Vi took everyone home after wishing Rita a good afternoon. Victor drove them back to his house and told her as she slid into the driver’s seat, “Maybe don’t tell Jack about the roof?”
“Who, me?” Vi asked. “Do I look ineffably stupid?”
When Vi reached the cottage to leave Harriet, she asked, “Do you need anything?”
“I shouldn’t say no to a delivery of fish and chips and a bit of ice cream.”
“I do like you,” Denny repeated. “You are my favorite type of person.”
“Am I?” Harriet asked easily, entirely comfortable in her skin. “Why?”
“Naps and food are the great pleasure of my life as well. Save for my daughter and my wife, of course.”
“Of course,” Harriet repeated and walked towards her house. Denny walked alongside her and then returned to the auto once she was inside.
“It’s just you and me now, Vi. How are we going to use Smith?”
“I hate to break it to you, darling Denny,” Vi said easily, “but I think that Smith is more focused on his actual work than our larks.”
“Why is he such a spoil sport?”
“Possibly,” Vi said idly, “because he does not have a fortune of his own.”
“Interesting theory,” Denny laughed.
Before long, they reached her house and Vi stopped the auto. They’d have to swap vehicles around at some point, since she was in Victor’s and Ham’s was with her twin. It was amusing, actually, and Vi wondered what Rita would tell Ham about his missing auto.
The moment she stepped out and turned to close the auto door, she heard rushing footsteps and then a bag was thrust over her head. She gasped and tried to fight, but the person lifted her off the ground as though she were a stray kitten. One hand was placed over her mouth, the bag suffocating her so she was unable to scream, as the arm clenching her too tightly around the ribs hauled her backward.
Vi heard Denny’s, “I say now!”
She was dragged—somewhere—fighting as hard as she could and getting in a few good kicks, though not enough to free herself. Finally, she was thrown to the ground with more force than was strictly necessary. Probably in retaliation for those few good kicks. She had enough sense to realize the ground was actually a wooden floor before the arm snaked around her again, and then, a moment later, what might have been
