Page 19 of Most Ardently (Return to Culloden Moor #5)
19
ABOVE THE brIDGE
* * *
A shmoore sent a carriage after the Muir sisters to ensure their safe return. Meanwhile, the party made its way back to Brigadunn Manor. By the time they arrived, the last of the other guests were departing, exchanging farewells and promises of future visits.
“Well timed,” Ashmoore remarked as they entered the main hall. “We can conduct our search without interference.”
The search of Brigadunn's upper regions proved both extensive and ultimately fruitless. They combed through dusty attics filled with generations of discarded furniture and forgotten trunks. They examined every ceiling beam, every rafter. Ashmoore even produced the original plans of the house from his study, yellowed parchment that showed no hidden chambers or secret spaces.
As afternoon stretched into evening, enthusiasm waned. First Mercy, then Lady Ashmoore, made discreet exits to attend to various household matters. Connor continued doggedly alongside Louis and Violet, but even his determination showed signs of flagging.
Ashmoore was the last to admit defeat, lowering himself heavily into a chair in the library where they had regrouped to compare notes.
“I fear we have searched every conceivable space 'above' in this house,” he said. “If there is a treasure hidden at Brigadunn, it has eluded us as thoroughly as it did your father, Violet.”
She nodded, too disappointed to speak. The brief flare of hope ignited by the translation had burned out, leaving her more desolate than before. Her best chance to help her family was gone. But at least she could still save Iris. The key had to be worth a great deal if she found an honest buyer.
Louis watched her face carefully but kept his thoughts to himself.
Ashmoore finally rose from his chair with a weary sigh. “Violet,” he said, “you are welcome to remain at Brigadunn tonight. I shall have my carriage ready to return you to Durrafair in the morning, should you wish it. If we happen upon anything, even another clue, I shall inform you immediately.”
“Thank you, Lord Ashmoore,” she replied. “You are most kind.”
He took his wife’s hand and they slipped out the door.
The fire crackled in the hearth as silence fell over the room. No one wanted to speak the truth aloud—that the great quest had failed, that the treasure, if it had ever existed, would remain hidden, perhaps forever.
Louis stood near the window, his profile etched against the darkening glass. The determined light that had shone in his eyes throughout their adventure had dimmed, replaced by something that looked painfully like resignation.
“I believe I shall retire early,” Connor announced, clearly sensing the need to give them privacy. “Mercy?”
His wife came to her to give her hand a squeeze and after a glance in Louis’ direction, left with a smile and a wink.
The Northwicks and Harcourts left in the same manner, offering smiles that were a combination of encouragement and pity. And soon, only Louis and Violet remained. With all the guests gone, no one was worried about propriety, she supposed.
“You will return to Durrafair tomorrow,” Louis said at last. It was not a question.
“Yes.” Violet forced herself to meet his gaze. “It is time.”
“And Iris?”
“I plan to sell the key and fetch her home myself. I shall have to trust God to keep her safe in the meantime.”
Louis nodded, his expression carefully neutral. “Of course. Brilliant plan.”
Violet stood and moved to the fire, gathering her courage for what must be said. Their adventure was ending—the practical, sensible part of her had always known it must. A penniless baron could not marry a penniless gentlewoman, no matter how many hidden puzzle boxes they had solved together.
“Louis—” she began.
“Violet—” he said simultaneously.
They both paused, the ghost of a smile on both their faces.
“Please,” Louis gestured for her to continue.
Violet took a deep breath. “I wanted to thank you. For everything. For believing in this quest when all reason suggested it was merely a fairytale. For risking your reputation to help a stranger.”
“You were never merely a stranger,” Louis replied quietly.
“Nevertheless,” Violet continued, “your kindness will not be forgotten.”
Louis stepped closer, the firelight catching the planes of his face. “Is that all, Violet? Gratitude for kindness?”
Her heart clenched painfully. How could she tell him that he had become more precious to her than any treasure they might have found? How could she burden him with that knowledge when his future—his duty—lay elsewhere?
“You have responsibilities,” she said instead. “And I have mine. Our paths were always meant to diverge.”
Something flickered in his eyes—pain, perhaps, or resignation. “You do not want more?”
“I believe,” Violet said carefully, “that you deserve happiness. A suitable match with advantages . And I?—”
“And you?” Louis prompted when she faltered.
“I cannot be that lady,” she finished simply. “No matter how much I might wish otherwise.”
Louis was silent for a long moment, studying her face as if memorizing its details. “You are determined, then? To end our association here?”
“It is for the best,” Violet insisted, though each word was more painful than the last.
“Very well.” Louis straightened, retreating behind a stiff smile and a mask of formal courtesy. “I bid you goodnight, Miss Cottsweather. And a safe journey tomorrow.”
He bowed, a perfect model of aristocratic restraint, and left the room without looking back.
When his footsteps faded, Violet sank into a chair and she let her composure crumble. This, she realized, was the true treasure she had lost—not gold or jewels hidden by long-dead Jacobites, but the companionship of a man who had judged her worthy regardless of her circumstances.
Yet she had made the right choice—the only choice. Lord Astley needed a wealthy bride, not a penniless adventurer with nothing to offer but her heart. Better to end it cleanly, to set him free to fulfill his obligations.
With this cold comfort, she retired to her chambers where she passed a sleepless night contemplating the journey home—and the lonely future that awaited her there.