Chapter Nine
From her seat in the back pew of the Darkmoor Park chapel, as Selena stared at the stained-glass window of St. George and the dragon, she struggled not to give any clue to the excitement that was building within her.
Was this the ‘dragon’ to which Mr. Clarke had been referring with his last words? If so, did it mean the money was hidden somewhere beneath the window?
Selena’s heartbeat, which pounded in her ears, sounded like the cacophony of insistent drums. She stole a glance at Dr. Scott beside her.
His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be in deep reflection.
Which was, Selena reminded herself, the proper way to behave at this moment, since Colonel Blackwood had asked everyone to spend a few minutes in silent tribute to the recently deceased Mr. Clarke.
The other members of their party also had their heads bowed in obedient stillness in the pews ahead of them.
Selena slid closer to Dr. Scott on the bench.
She didn’t dare to break the silence—but she had to get his attention somehow.
She was about to nudge his arm but paused; that might be noticed.
Instead, even though she knew the gesture was too intimate and possibly scandalous, she reached over and, with dancing nerves and a tingling stomach, surreptitiously tapped a fingertip against his thigh.
His eyes flew open, and he turned to her with a raised brow.
Selena shot him a look filled with meaning and gestured with her head towards the stained-glass window.
He followed her glance. His mouth dropped open slightly and he turned back to her with a silent, wide-eyed stare that signaled his understanding.
Colonel Blackwood cleared his throat and addressed the group again. “Thank you, everyone. Mrs. Hillman, before we close, was there anything you wished to add?”
“Yes. I wish to thank you, Colonel Blackwood. That was lovely,” she said.
“It was my honor, ma’am,” the colonel replied.
Mrs. Hillman grabbed her cane, stood, and turned to face the small congregation.
“I appreciate you all joining me for this service. I believe it would have meant a great deal to Mr. Clarke that we are thinking of him this morning. I also believe he would have wanted us to celebrate this sacred day, so let us all proceed now to the drawing room for a bit of Christmas cheer.”
The guests rose and headed down the center aisle towards the door.
Selena swallowed a sigh of frustration. She could hardly wait to search the chapel to see if a bundle of cash had been stashed here.
But there was no time for that. She permitted herself to hold back, though, until everyone else had left and noted that Dr. Scott did the same.
As they followed the group out of the sanctuary, she said under her breath, “You saw?”
“I saw.” His eyes looked bright with anticipation.
“We’ll come back immediately after gift-giving,” Selena whispered, and he nodded in agreement.
Selena darted up to her room, retrieved her small box of presents, and joined the others in the drawing room, where everyone was taking seats around a low central table.
“It wouldn’t be Christmas without presents,” Mrs. Hillman announced, “and I wanted to share a token of my appreciation for your friendship.” She hesitated, studying the wrapped gifts that were laid out on the table. “I see that several of these are not from me.”
Colonel Blackwood chuckled. “You cannot blame us, ma’am, if some of us wished to get in the spirit of the season, despite your directive.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Mrs. Hillman gave a graceful shrug. “We’ll start with mine, however. The ones wrapped in silver paper are from me to you. Selena, will you please do the honors and distribute them?”
Selena gave out the small boxes to their recipients. She knew what they contained, for she had helped Mrs. Hillman to choose them. Selena was pleased to see that one was addressed to Dr. Scott. She offered him the gift. “Dr. Scott?” His mind seemed to be elsewhere. “Dr. Scott?” she repeated.
The doctor blinked and looked at her. “Sorry, yes?”
“This is for you,” Selena said.
The doctor’s mouth opened slightly. He turned to Mrs. Hillman. “Ma’am, I cannot accept a gift. I shouldn’t even be here.”
“Doctor, I must insist,” Mrs. Hillman replied. “I have plenty to go around, for I ordered a few extra.”
“Even so, ma’am.” Dr. Scott stirred in his chair with visible discomfort. “I’ve come empty-handed.”
Selena was impressed by the doctor’s humble modesty, which went hand-in-hand with the other positive qualities she had observed him to possess: an upright nature and a sense of decency.
Mrs. Hillman gave the doctor a dismissive wave of her hand.
“How could it be otherwise? You had no idea you would be coming to Darkmoor Park. You are far from your family and friends today, Doctor, but I hope you will consider us your friends. And I refuse to allow you to be the only one without a gift. Please do me the honor of accepting it.”
With a silent, gracious nod, Dr. Scott gave in and accepted the package.
“They’re all the same, so please open them at the same time,” Mrs. Hillman directed.
The group opened the presents—sterling silver Christmas tree ornaments that had been engraved with a sketch of the manor house and the words Darkmoor Park, Christmas 1852, accompanied by a red ribbon for tying to a tree.
“Mrs. Hillman, you shouldn’t have,” Mrs. Whitlock exclaimed, the appreciative gleam in her eyes seeming to belie the words.
“The picture of the house is based on a drawing my husband and I commissioned years ago,” Mrs. Hillman explained. “The original hangs in the great hall.”
“It’s a lovely memento,” proclaimed Colonel Blackwood. “Thank you.”
The others professed their thanks with equal fervor. Selena gave out her gifts next, quietly insisting, “It’s nothing much, really. Just something I made.”
The guests unveiled small notebooks, their cardboard covers wrapped in white brocade fabric and embellished by dried flowers and leaves protected by a clear sealant. Everyone oohed and aahed and demanded to know how they’d been made.
“I dried and pressed the flowers and leaves last summer,” Selena explained. “My students all made something similar so they’d have something to bring home to their parents and siblings for the holidays.”
The notebooks were received with obvious appreciation by all. Even Mrs. Whitlock surprised Selena by pronouncing them to be “well-made and thoughtful.”
Dr. Scott was the most effusive with his thanks. “Again, I feel undeserving of any gift at all, Miss Taylor, much less something so unique and beautiful, that was created by your own hands.”
His gaze was so direct and filled with such admiration it made Selena’s cheeks grow warm.
“I am pleased if you like it, Doctor, and hope you’ll find it useful.
” While making the notebooks, she had never dreamed that a man like him might be one of the recipients.
The notion that Dr. Scott might one day jot down notes in the little book was delightful.
Nearly all of the guests, as it turned out, had ignored Mrs. Hillman’s no gifts command, where their hostess was concerned.
Colonel Blackwood gave Mrs. Hillman a new style of pen, which had been growing in popularity of late.
“It has a reservoir, which you fill by dipping it into an ink bottle and pulling that little lever,” the colonel explained.
“I thought it just the thing, what with your avid enthusiasm for letter-writing.”
Mrs. Hillman was delighted by his gift, and by the others that followed—a crocheted doily from Mrs. Whitlock, a handkerchief embroidered with the initials RH from Miss Goodwin, and a box of scented soaps from Mr. Davis.
Selena then gave Mrs. Hillman the gift she had made for her, a black velvet cap embellished by white Belgian lace. The older woman donned the cap immediately and pronounced it to be, “The most beautiful cap I have ever owned, and all the more special because you made it yourself.”
Mrs. Hillman had saved her gift to Selena for last. It was a letter opener, shaped like a knife with an ivory handle and a thin, sharp blade.
“You get so many letters from your sisters, and sometimes from your brother,” Mrs. Hillman said with a smile.
“With the advent of the envelope and sealing wax, I hope you’ll find this useful. ”
“I’m sure I will! Thank you so much.” Selena studied the letter opener with delight. It was not only a practical gift, but a beautiful one.
With all the presents unwrapped, Mrs. Hillman reminded everyone that in place of luncheon, Christmas dinner would be held early at four P.M. “That gives you time to rest and change for dinner.”
The group repeated their thanks and everyone trooped out of the drawing room to go upstairs. Everyone, that was, except Selena and Dr. Scott, who left their gifts on a sideboard and, with a silent nod, headed straight to the chapel.
The sanctuary was deserted. Dr. Scott left the door slightly ajar, for propriety’s sake, and they crossed to the stained-glass window of St. George and the dragon.
“I’ve been bursting with curiosity ever since I noticed it,” Selena said.
“So have I.” The doctor’s voice rang with enthusiasm. “But now that we’re here … what are we looking for? A hiding place under a dragon?”
“Yes. Maybe under one of these paving stones?” Selena suggested.
Dr. Scott knelt down on the floor and tested the stones beneath the window to see if any of them jiggled.
Selena joined in the pursuit, working so closely by the doctor’s side that he bumped into her, causing a tingle to skyrocket through her entire being.
I’m just excited because we’re searching for treasure, she told herself.
But deep down, she knew that her reaction was due to the man with whom she was searching, and the thrill of his body touching hers.
Dr. Scott sank back on his knees with a sigh. “This floor is as solid as a rock. There couldn’t be anything hidden beneath it.”
Selena frowned in agreement. She directed her attention to the wall before them. “Maybe there’s a cavity behind a loose stone?”
Still on their knees, they pressed here, there, and everywhere on the stone wall beneath the window, but nothing moved. The only other thing of note in the vicinity was a blue-and-white porcelain urn that stood next to the wall.
“Maybe he put the money …” Dr. Scott began.
“… inside that urn?” Selena finished with him.
They got to their feet. Dr. Scott opened the urn’s lid and looked inside. “Empty.”
“Oh.” Selena’s spirits deflated.
As Dr. Scott replaced the lid, a sound drew their attention to the back of the room. The door was closing with a soft click.
Selene’s pulse quickened. “Was someone else in here?”
Dr. Scott, his eyes flashing, darted to the door, yanked it open, and rushed out. Selena hurried after him down the hall. She caught up to him in the front entryway, at the base of the main staircase. There was no one else in sight.
“Did you see anybody?” she asked softly, catching her breath and looking up the stairs.
“No.” He stood still for a moment, his hands on his hips. “If someone had been in the chapel, I would have surely caught up to them.” He hesitated. “I wonder if the door shut on its own. It is a bit drafty in there.”
Anxiety pricked at Selena like needlepoints. “If it was due to a draft, wouldn’t the door have slammed shut?”
“If the door had been wide open, perhaps. But I only left it ajar a couple of inches.”
“Well, I hope we weren’t seen or overheard, or we’ll have an army of treasure hunters competing with us. And as you said, they might not be as willing to return the money to the hospital.”
Dr. Scott sighed. “It seems we’re back to where we started.” He withdrew his pocket watch. “And Christmas dinner is in ninety minutes.”
“We had best get dressed.” They retrieved their gifts from the drawing room and made their way up the stairs.
“Have you asked Mrs. Hillman if there are any other …” He gestured with one hand, as if breathing fire from his mouth. “You-know-whats about the place?”
“I haven’t had a chance. But I will.”
“Let me know when you do. We’ll put our heads together and try again.”
The concept of putting their heads together sent a sizzle up Selena’s spine. She shook her head to clear it. You really need to get a grip on yourself.
When they reached the first-floor landing, they nodded in parting.
Dr. Scott turned towards the south wing, while Selena moved to her room at the beginning of the north wing.
She entered her chamber and was about to unbutton her frock, when she noticed a small piece of white paper lying on the blue coverlet atop her bed. What is this?
Selena picked up the note. She read it and felt as though her heart had stopped beating.
A message had been scrawled on the page in pencil.
Stop looking
or you’ll be next to die.