Page 71 of Impetuous

“She looks as if she might blow away in a strong breeze,” Philip said bluntly, “but her nurse says that she is actually in good health.”

“We must go see her, Violet,” Lady Neville said decisively. “I never did get along with her well, but I suppose that at that age one welcomes the visit of anyone she knows.”

“She didn’t have any idea who I was,” Philip went on.

“Oh dear, that is too bad. Did she not know anything about this book, then?”

Philip grinned. “No, that she seemed to have no problem with. She knew almost immediately what we were talking about. We have been chasing the wrong thing all this time. It wasn’t an ordinary book. Did either of you ever hear of a prayer book that was given to Sir Everard Neville by Queen Elizabeth?”

Both of them gazed at him blankly. Lady Neville frowned. “You know,” she said slowly, “I do remember something about a prayer book. Sir Richard’s father was rather proud of it.”

“Apparently it was a family treasure. It belonged to Queen Elizabeth, and she inscribed it to Sir Everard herself, which would make it valuable enough. But apparently it was also richly bound, with three jewels on the spine and pearls around the cover.”

“Oh!” Violet sat forward. “But I’ve seen that!”

Lady Neville nodded in agreement. “Yes, there was some sort of bejeweled little book. Sir Richard kept it stored in a strongbox.”

“It isn’t there any longer. I have looked through that box many times.”

“Of course not, dear,” Violet told him. “We don’t have it anymore. It was in that trunk load of things—don’t you remember, Lady Neville? That year that Thomas wanted to buy the matched set of bays, but he was short of cash, and old Staley was so against him selling any of the bonds or anything. So he sold some of the old things around the house. The silver salt cellar, remember? And that broken old statuary that used to be in the conservatory—though why anyone would want that, even if it was Greek or Roman or whatever, I don’t know. That little jeweled book was one of the things he sold.” She looked at her son sympathetically. “I’m sorry, dear, but I’m afraid that book is gone.”

For a long moment, Cassandra simply stared at Lady Neville, unable to take in the sudden drop from giddy hope to cruel reality. She plopped down in a chair, her legs feeling as if they could no longer support her, and let out a small moan.

“My dear, are you all right?” Violet asked with concern. “Is the book so important?”

“Yes, it is,” her son answered crisply. He saw his mother’s look of puzzlement, and he went on, “You know, the Verreres are very scholarly, Mother. And this book…well, it’s part of the Verrere family history, also.”

“It is? Oh.” Violet looked only a little less confused.

Philip sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He walked across the room and back, stopping in front of Cassandra. He squatted down and took her hand in his, covering it with his other hand. He smiled up reassuringly into her face. “Don’t worry. We will get it back. A well-known book like that—it can’t have disappeared. There will be records. Mother…” He stood and turned back to Violet.

Violet, who with the older Lady Neville had been watching Philip’s actions with great interest, gazed up at him limpidly. “Yes, dear?”

“Was there a book dealer whom Father used?”

Violet looked blank, and Lady Neville let out a most unlady-like snort. “Don’t be absurd, Philip,” his grandmother told him bluntly. “My son Thomas could abide books no more than his father. He would not have traded with a book dealer often enough to have a particular one.”

“Then Staley must have handled the sale. It was a precious item.”

“I suppose so. If Staley were still alive, he might even remember it, but he’s been dead these many years.”

“There would be records, surely. His son still handles all our business, and I would think he’s bound to have a record of the sale somewhere. I shall write to him immediately.” Philip resumed his pacing. “Even if he does not, I am sure we will be able to find out something about the book. We shall go around and ask about it at all the book dealers in London, see if any one of them bought it.”

“Of course!” Cassandra surged to her feet, smiling. “Mr. Simons will help us. Why didn’t I think of it before? We shall go to London and see him. If he knows nothing about it, I am sure he can direct us to someone who deals in that sort of thing. When can we set out?”

“You are going to London?” Violet asked. “Just like that?”

Philip smiled at Cassandra. “Miss Verrere is a woman of action, Mother.”

“But, Philip, Miss Verrere, think…” Lady Neville looked shocked. “Surely you cannot mean that the two of you are going to London together?”

“Yes, of course,” Philip replied. “I am afraid that Miss Verrere would have my head if I insisted on going by myself.”

“I certainly would. I’m not about to let you have all the fun.”

“But it is impossible,” Lady Neville said firmly.

“Your grandmother is right,” Violet agreed. “The two of you cannot travel to London by yourselves. Or stay in Neville House without a chaperon. I suppose Miss Verrere could stay in an inn. There are a few where it is quite respectable for a single lady to stay by herself, but even so, there would still be the journey alone.”