Chapter 37
I am alone in Cerensthorpe Abbey. Veronica remains with her sister in Ireland. Ernest is at school. My heart is broken, my soul has withered.
Each day, I roam the halls, noticing details, finding unexpected corners.
In my will, the Chaucer was to have been a bequest for Eglantine.
I realise now, this would have caused a scandal.
My intention was to make her a wealthy woman and her being able to sell the manuscript would have achieved this objective.
This would have completed my job as her father: to protect her, care for her, provide for her, but she is lost to me.
Perhaps she does not even know my name. Every letter I have sent has been returned to my solicitor and, with the last one, it was requested, I desist. What choice do I have but to let her go?
Last night, as I watched the clock tick around to three o’clock in the morning – the Devil’s midnight – an idea came to me.
Ernest will inherit handsomely, he shall never want for anything, so he has no real necessity of the priceless Chaucer, therefore I shall hide it until the correct person arrives to discover my treasure.
Written down, the idea does appear preposterous, but in my heart, I know this is the correct solution. For the past few days, I have been creating a treasure hunt around the house, which leads to the room, the secret place where the bounty awaits.
My mother always claimed the house chose its inhabitants, so this person will not necessarily be blood born of our family.
It will be someone who has been chosen by the house.
They will be my rightful heir. The money, the house, these will pass down my son’s line, but the Chaucer, The Mother’s Tale, the documents proving its age: these prizes from the past are for whomsoever solves my clues.
I shall write the first of my riddles in the cover of this journal. The poem which begins it all also holds the final answer. The Boke of St Albans and the entrance to the secret room. A circle.
We all follow the path of fate. We come full circle from birth to death. One day, true love and happiness will return to Cerensthorpe Abbey, but it will not be in my lifetime.
Only in death shall I be free.