Page 32

"By Jove, she's right," he breathed, studying the new arrangement. "It's not a temporal sequence—it's a geographical one!"

The scholars crowded around, examining her reorganization with growing excitement. Even Chilton moved closer, standing near enough that Meredith could detect the faint scent of his sandalwood cologne.

"The western clue isn't contradicting the northern one," Dr. Welby realized, tracing a pattern on the map. "It's completing it—creating a triangulation point!"

"Which would place the location somewhere in—" Captain Peters began.

"Dorset," Chilton finished quietly, his voice close to Meredith's ear. "Near the coast."

She turned her head slightly, finding him much nearer than expected. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the excited voices of the scholars faded to a distant murmur. There was admiration in his gaze, and something deeper she couldn't quite name.

"A brilliant insight, Miss Martin," he said softly. "Though I confess I'm not surprised."

Before she could respond, Captain Peters’ exclamation broke the moment.

"I know exactly where it must be," the cartographer declared, jabbing his finger at a specific point on the coastline. "There's an old Roman ruin there, long abandoned—the perfect hiding place."

"Then we must investigate immediately," Lord Beaverbrook decided, his scholarly reserve giving way to boyish enthusiasm.

"After the wedding, of course," he added hastily, with a glance toward the door.

Meredith followed his gaze to find Faith standing there, an amused expression on her face.

"I see my future husband's friends are plotting adventures without him," she observed, entering the room. "Though I'm glad to see Meredith has been included in your scholarly cabal."

"Your friend has just provided the key insight we've been missing for months," Lady Beaverbrook informed her. "A rather elegant solution, I might add."

Faith beamed at Meredith.

"She has always had a gift for seeing patterns others miss." Her expression softened with affection. "But I've come to steal her away, I'm afraid. Bride's privilege. I need her advice on a matter of some importance before tomorrow."

As Meredith prepared to follow Faith, she found her path momentarily blocked by Chilton.

"Miss Martin," he said, his voice pitched for her ears alone. "Might I have a word with you tomorrow? Before the ceremony, perhaps?"

His request surprised her, as did the urgency in his expression.

"I... yes, I suppose so," she replied, uncertain but curious.

"Thank you." The relief in his voice was palpable. "There are matters I wish to... clarify."

With a nod of acknowledgment, she followed Faith from the library, her mind spinning with questions. What could Chilton wish to clarify? And why now, on the eve of Faith's wedding?

"You've made quite an impression on our scholarly friends," Faith commented as they walked arm in arm down the corridor. "And on Lord Sutcliffe as well, it seems."

"We were simply discussing their puzzle," Meredith demurred.

Faith's knowing smile suggested she wasn't convinced. "Of course. And was it also 'simply discussion' that had him looking at you as though you'd hung the moon and stars?"

"Faith!" Meredith protested, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

"I may be preoccupied with wedding preparations, but I'm not blind," Faith teased gently. "There's something there, Merry. Something worth exploring, perhaps."

Meredith shook her head, unwilling to acknowledge the hope that fluttered traitorously in her chest.

"Even if there were—which I'm not conceding—our worlds are too different. His sister made that abundantly clear." She straightened her shoulders. "Besides, tomorrow is about you and Jasper. My complicated feelings about stubborn barons can wait."

"If you insist," Faith said with exaggerated patience. "Though I should point out that the best marriages are often between people whose differences complement rather than oppose each other. Just look at Lord and Lady Beaverbrook."

As they returned to Faith's chamber to discuss the final details for tomorrow's celebration, Meredith found her thoughts drifting back to the library—not to the puzzle she had helped solve, but to the moment when Chilton's eyes had met hers across the table.

There had been something there beyond simple admiration, something that made her wonder if perhaps Faith wasn't entirely wrong.

But wonder was dangerous territory, especially with Caroline Hurst's warnings still fresh in her mind. Better to focus on tomorrow's wedding, on her friend's happiness, on the practical matters of returning to Oxford and establishing her school.

Better not to dwell on the possibility that Chilton Loring might be more than the conventional baron she had first judged him to be.

Better not to hope for clarifications that might never come.

Yet as she helped Faith with last-minute preparations, Meredith found herself counting the hours until morning, when she would discover exactly what Lord Sutcliffe wished to say.