Page 16 of An Heiress and An Astronomer (Gentleman Scholars #3)

G reta was able to ready herself for the morning quickly and quietly, without waking or disturbing Lady Gertrude or their maid, who was asleep on a trundle on the floor. Greta was relieved. She enjoyed doing for herself. Another fact that set her apart as not quite fashionable. But in this, she didn’t care.

She was gowned and coifed sufficiently for breaking her fast, even if others were present. She would need the maid’s services to secure her hair a little better for going out of doors, but for now, she would do.

“I received a letter from Adriana yesterday.”

“Finally, I was beginning to despair of her having any news.”

Greta stopped outside the room she had been directed to for breakfast. It was a different room, further down the hallway, than she had been before. She was constantly surprised at how much bigger the house was than the first impression it had given.

It was obvious there were at least two occupants of the room having what was likely a private conversation. She was loath to interrupt them, but she was also hungry.

She was just about to announce her presence when the next words stopped her in her tracks.

“We are closer than ever to the treasure. I am sure of it.”

“But we still don’t even know what we’re looking for,” the other man lamented. Greta still wasn’t certain who was even in the room. Ought she to return to her chamber and ask for breakfast to be delivered?

But treasure? How intriguing. Mr. Darby had mentioned it in passing, but she hadn’t been able to question him further since their one conversation. It wasn’t as though she needed any sort of windfall for herself, but a treasure hunt would be highly diverting.

“We know what the clues say, that’s all we really need, isn’t it?”

Greta couldn’t quite make out the mumbled grumble from the other gentleman and knew she couldn’t remain hovering by the door any longer. She cleared her throat loud enough to announce her presence before stepping briskly into the room, trying to decide if she ought to inform them she had heard them or brazen it out as though it were a matter of disinterest to her.

Neither would be truthful.

“Good morning,” she said as brightly as she could muster despite the rumble in her midsection that embarrassed her completely. “No need to get up,” she added, waving away their gentlemanly stance as both made to get to their feet.

“Good morning, Miss Billingsley,” Lincoln, the botanist, called to her, cheerful, seemingly not put out that she had interrupted their conversation. “Have you slept well?”

“Thank you, yes, very well, but I fear it wasn’t quite long enough.”

“Why did you not stay abed, then?” Sydney Peters asked with a frown that made Greta laugh.

“That is a most excellent question,” she admitted. “My hunger propelled me, I’m afraid.” She laughed again when she realized she wasn’t likely supposed to admit to such base, human needs. “And unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I haven’t fully adjusted to Town hours. I often awake early.”

“I didn’t realize anyone had stayed up late last night,” Lincoln commented.

“Oh, we didn’t,” she admitted. “But I had trouble falling asleep.” Greta realized it was a rather mundane conversation and she tried to wave it away. “Do not trouble yourself. It is nothing a spot of food won’t fix.”

“Help yourself,” Peters said, waving to the sideboard. He jumped as though the other gentleman had kicked him, causing a frown to form on his face before suddenly lightening, and he came to his feet. “That is to say, can I help you fill your plate?”

Greta laughed again, feeling far more light-hearted than was her usual frame of mind of late. There was just something so endearing about this household.

“I am perfectly capable of fending for myself, but I do thank you, Mr. Peters. Finish your own meal, I shall be fine.” She suited her actions to her words and quickly filled her plate with a selection of delectable items being kept warm on the sideboard. She smiled her thanks as a footman helped her to her seat and quickly tucked into her meal.

Silence fell over the room for a moment while Greta assuaged the worst of her hunger but ultimately, her curiosity won out.

“I hate to admit to eavesdropping, and I wasn’t really meaning to listen, but it couldn’t be helped. As I was approaching the breakfast room, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

She watched a little anxiously as the two gentlemen exchanged expressions she couldn’t quite read, perhaps guilt, but what would they have to be guilty about? They didn’t leave her guessing for long.

“We should have been more careful,” the botanist exclaimed before the heat of embarrassment flamed his face. “Some of the fellows are angry that we keep adding more people to our search. They’re afraid that we won’t end up with much if we have to divide it too many ways. We shouldn’t have been discussing it where we might be overheard.” Lincoln gave her an apologetic look before glaring at the other gentleman as though it were his fault they had been overheard.

Greta dismissed his concerns. “I would love to be involved in a treasure hunt, but you needn’t be concerned about splitting it with me. I have my own resources,” she added before wishing she had kept her opinion to herself as they stared at her with curiosity.

“I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want more,” Peters commented. “That tells me you’re either very strange or you have an incredible amount of wealth.”

Embarrassed all the way down to her toes to have brought this topic upon herself, Greta tried to brazen it out despite the heat that was flooding her and no doubt staining her face.

“I have been told since childhood that I am exceedingly strange, you aren’t the first to comment on that,” she said with a laugh and a wave, as though it didn’t bother her in the least.

“Well, then you are in perfect company since every one of the scholars has been considered strange since childhood as well. Welcome,” Mr. Peters said with a wide smile that really did make Greta feel included.

“Thank you,” she answered, suddenly feeling shy. Just as she thought she ought to excuse herself, Pierce walked into the room, and thoughts of leaving were dismissed.

“Good morning, Darby,” Mr. Peters said immediately. “Don’t get angry with us, but we’ve added Miss Billingsley to our motley crew of treasure seekers.”

Pierce laughed. “Have you? What shall we tell the others?”

“She says she has no need of treasure. She just wants to aid in the hunt,” Lincoln excused.

“Well, that’s magnanimous of her, isn’t it?” Pierce said, gazing at her with curious eyes, seeking to ferret out her secrets.

Greta lifted a shoulder in what she hoped appeared to be a careless shrug. She didn’t see these gentlemen as being the best at secret keeping. The current conversation was proof of that. So, she wasn’t about to confide in them about the depths of her inheritance.

“It does sound diverting,” she said, casting down her eyelashes as though bashful, hoping they accepted her word at surface value.

She so desperately wanted to be included but not for the seemingly obvious reasons. Greta had never been included in anything, it seemed to her. She fought the shiver of anticipation that wanted to run up her spine at the thought of being a part of their group.

“I think it’s delightful to have more help, but what do you think you might be able to add to our search, Miss Billingsley?” Pierce’s drawled tones had their usual effect of sending her inward parts into a delightful tizzy. Greta tried to ignore her reactions.

She wasn’t sure if Pierce was quizzing her or if he was truly being kind in his inclusivity. And she really shouldn’t be even thinking of him on a first name basis. It would surely come out of her mouth if she wasn’t careful.

But she so enjoyed his company, especially the evening before when he had been showing her how he had altered the lenses to increase the magnification. She had been fascinated. She had likely appeared a simpleton as she had hung on his every word, but she couldn’t even be bothered by it. Compared to the scholars, she likely was a simpleton.

Then she remembered his question. She also remembered the strange paper she had found in an old book at her favorite bookshop.

“Well, it likely has no relation to what you’re searching for, but I did find this cryptic note between the pages of an old book at a small bookstore in Town when we first arrived a few weeks ago.”

“What sort of note?” Suddenly all three gentlemen were very much interested in what she had to say.

“Well, it was actually a poem, to be honest. I mentioned it to you before, if you’ll recall. But it likely doesn’t have anything to do with your search, and I’m just grasping at straws.” Greta was mortified for having tried to ingratiate herself with the gentlemen.

Pierce’s expression was gentle, as though he were trying to be encouraging. “Something made you think it might be connected, so you might as well tell us about it.”

“It’s only because it actually has the word clues in it that made me think there could be a connection,” Greta excused. “I didn’t bring it with me so you won’t be able to read it for yourself, but I could recite it for you.”

“Did you memorize it, then?” Pierce asked, laughing.

Greta lifted a shoulder in a bashful shrug. “I thought it fascinating, so I have read it many times. I might not have the words completely correct, but it was something like this:

In shadows deep where secrets sleep, 'Neath moonlit sky, the roses weep. A path of light through knowledge's door, Where wisdom's keep holds treasures more.

By candle's flame, the truth unveiled, In melodies where tales are trailed. Seek ye the keys in verses old, In whispers soft, the map unfolds.

In lands afar, where legends lie, With painted views that catch the eye. From ancient hands, a token passed, A legacy from ages vast.

Through time and space, the clues align, In ciphered script, the fates design. A locket's heart, a diary's tale, To find the prize, you must prevail.

The final piece in stars is set, Where all the paths converge and met. Not gold nor gems, but wisdom's fire, The true reward of heart's desire.”

Stunned silence followed her recitation before pandemonium broke out.

“She said moonlight and roses, just like the others.”

“Ancient hands. Ciphered script.”

“You might be right, Darby, it’s not gold or gems. Well, that stinks.”

Pierce finally held up his hand to stem the flow of the gentlemen’s comments. Greta couldn’t read the expression on his face. Was he disappointed or delighted? It was impossible to tell.

The air of excitement in the room made Greta feel like giggling. An action she had never taken in her entire life, as far as she could remember. But such were the sensations flooding her as the gentlemen eagerly debated how her clue might fit in with the ones they already had.

“If you wouldn’t mind showing me that store when we return to Town, Miss Billingsley, I would love to search it for more clues.”

“Of course, it would be my pleasure.”

“But we really need to maintain our discretion,” Lincoln added. “The others are going to roast us alive if we add anyone else to the search. Already Adriana has added those women at Oxford. Now the lot of us. And Miss Billingsley.”

“But Lady Evangelina and Sean have taken themselves out of the running.”

“And Lord Beaverbrook doesn’t need it in the least.”

Greta held her breath. Ought she to tell them about her wealth? Perhaps she should just demur and say she also didn’t need it. Or she could hold her silence.

“You could consider me a mere assistant for a portion of the search. You needn’t count me as a full participant. In fact,” she added, holding her finger up for a little flourish, “you needn’t tell the others about me at all.”

She watched as the three gentlemen frowned and looked at one another as though trying to silently debate the issue. Finally, they all three shook their heads.

“If you don’t believe in the search, you will be less effective. You won’t believe if you aren’t included. You have to be counted in order to succeed,” Sydney Peters, the cartographer, explained in a steady tone that conveyed to Greta that he believed every word he said.

When the other two nodded, she realized they all agreed. Greta was torn between laughter and amazement. These men who claimed to wholeheartedly believe in science, seemed to also believe in something as intangible as belief leading to success.

Perhaps they had actually studied the matter. She tried to dismiss her scepticism. It didn’t matter to her. She just wanted to be involved in the first thing to actually truly interest her since the death of her parents altered the course of her life.

“I will understand if you feel you cannot involve me. But I will still show you the bookshop and help you search it when we return to Town.”

Again, the gentlemen exchanged silent communication that should have made Greta feel excluded but instead fascinated her. It was evident they had been friends for most of their lives. A wave of jealousy swept through her that she quickly dismissed.

It was a little too late to lament what she didn’t get to experience. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted someone to be able to read her mind by simply looking at her. She wasn’t sure what they were reading from each other. She couldn’t tell the first thing when she shifted her eyes from face to face.

Suddenly the excellent breakfast no longer tasted so appealing as it turned to ashes in her mouth. She hated the feeling of exclusion that swept through her. Once more she was on the outside looking in. Greta’s limbs tingled with the urge to get up and leave the room. But that would surely be too craven for her self-respect. She finished eating what was on her plate and ignored the sick feeling in her midsection as well as the now silent gentlemen.

“I’m sorry that I interrupted your conversation, gentlemen,” she said in a steady tone as she got to her feet. “I didn’t mean to stick my nose into your business. I will leave you to it.”

She hoped her face was formed into the polite smile she intended to offer but couldn’t be sure as her entire being felt rather numb. As though she had slept on all of it wrong. If only she had managed to actually sleep a little longer and thus avoid this encounter.

Not that she truly regretted it. It had been quite fascinating until she realized they didn’t truly want her involved. That was when her insides froze. But she needn’t allow them to know that.

She walked out of the room with as much dignity as she could manage to infuse into her stiff spine.

“Wait, Greta, Miss Billingsley.” She knew Pierce was calling to her, but she ignored his voice and kept going.