Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) (7 page)

“While I thank you for your kind hospitality,” said Arthur
smoothly, as he helped Vanessa rise from her seat before Dumbarton could do it,
“I should like to join you.”

“Splendid,” said Dumbarton, looking anything but pleased. 
“It shall be interesting to watch an untutored mind at work.”

Vanessa quickly interjected.  “Professor Dumbarton, while
Lord Arthur may be new to the world of ciphers and code breaking, I can assure
you he has a first-rate mind.”

Arthur was absurdly pleased by the compliment.  He offered
his arm to her then escorted her to Dumbarton’s study. 

The room was comfortably furnished with leather chairs similar
to those at White’s, as well as a sideboard that was well stocked with the
finest port and brandy.   A bookcase contained souvenirs of Dumbarton’s
travels, including pen and ink drawings of plants native to the Amazon, as well
as what appeared to be a shrunken skull. 

“Just one of my former students,” said Dumbarton, who then
chuckled at his own jest.  He motioned for Vanessa and Arthur to be seated.  “While
you two were freshening up, I took the liberty of reviewing the papers.” He
indicated the documents that were laid out on a table in front of them.  “You
were right, my dear.  Without the code in the chest, we cannot be assured that
we are interpreting them correctly.  You said the messenger was French?”

“That is what I was told,” said Vanessa.  “Although we
believe his contact may be English.”

The documents were a series of letters and numbers,
carefully printed on several pages of expensive paper stock.  While
occasionally the letters spelled out words in English, there were just as many
instances of French, German and Spanish.

“They remind me of puzzle books I had when I was a child,”
said Arthur.  “While seemingly incomprehensible now, the solution was usually
fairly straightforward once you found which letters represented common
consonants and vowels.”

Dumbarton chuckled condescendingly.  “I can assure you this
is slightly more complicated than a puzzle book, Kellington.  I shouldn’t try
to work it out if I were you.  Wouldn’t want to strain your brain too much.”

Arthur picked up one of the sheets of paper.  “I believe the
code shifts from page to page.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vanessa.

“On this first page, the number eight is used alone in the
frequency that would indicate it stands for the letter ‘A.’  But by the third
page, the letter ‘Z’ is used that way and by….”  He shuffled through the
pages.  “….by the end, it appears the number seven does the same thing.”

“That’s not the number seven,” said Vanessa, as she leaned
over to examine it.  “It’s the continental number one.  It’s not used often,
but I’ve seen it in passing enough to know.”  She leafed through the pages, a
slight frown on her face.  “Something is odd.”

“Yes, well,” said Dumbarton, as he took the pages out of her
hands, “I’d say the entire business is odd.  How someone expected the papers to
survive in a trunk buried in a lake is beyond me.  It’s a good thing you got
there when you did or all might have been lost.  As it is, no good will come
from amateurs...”  Here he looked directly at Arthur.  “...pawing the
evidence.   Best leave the decoding to the expert.”

“Of course,” said Vanessa, who still looked distracted.    

“I do not believe it will take me long to decipher them,”
continued Dumbarton.  “Perhaps just a few hours tonight.  I don’t know if
you’ve heard, Lord Arthur, but I am well known as the premiere code breaker in
the empire.  I’m told a knighthood may be in the offing.”

 “In that case, we shall leave you to it,” said Arthur.  He
stood and held his hand out to Vanessa.  “May I escort you to your room Miss
Gans?”

“Vanessa is perfectly welcome to stay, Kellington.” 

Dumbarton looked to Arthur as if his plans for the evening
weren’t confined to only working on the papers.  “It is up to Miss Gans, of
course,” said Arthur.  “But we’ve had two very long days of travel and I’m sure
she knows a good night’s rest is in the best interest of her mission.  Don’t
you, Miss Gans?  We wouldn’t want to fall behind schedule.”

Vanessa looked at him with some suspicion, but rose and let
him tuck her hand into his arm.

Arthur wasted no time in leaving the study with her, calling
over his shoulder to Dumbarton as he did so, “Do be so good as to send up that
port you mentioned.  It shall do very well for a nightcap.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Vanessa awoke from a mostly sleepless night.  She was
surprised it hadn’t been more restful.  The bed was almost as luxurious as the
one she’d had at Riverton Farms, and they both were infinitely nicer than her
cot at home.  She’d had an excellent dinner and was that much closer to solving
the puzzle which would lead her to Mortimer and Cassidy.  Yet, she’d taken
forever to fall asleep, then spent most of the night tossing and turning.

The cause of her unrest was in a room down the hall.  She
knew it was unlikely that he was taking yet another bath.  But her mind
couldn’t seem to get him out of the tub.  That wasn’t quite true.  Her mind had
encountered few difficulties in imagining him lounging in bed, with his
glorious chest bared for her to see.  She was certain he’d never bother with a
nightshirt.  She was equally sure that the maids in his home probably fought for
the honor of lighting the fire in his room each morning, just for the chance to
see that broad expanse of chest or anything else they might be lucky enough to
get a peek of.

She’d only had a quick glimpse the evening before of the
rest of him.  Just the thought of what she’d seen made the room considerably
warmer.  The water had surely distorted the size of his manhood.  Water
magnified body parts.  It was a proven fact.   It had to be a proven fact,
because if it wasn’t, then who could possibly accommodate such a…force of
nature.

It had been a long time since she’d experienced any sort of
lovemaking and her education had been cursory at best.  But she knew enough to
imagine Arthur Kellington was a man who would excel in the bed chamber.  And
she cursed herself for wanting first-hand confirmation of it.

She put on her newly cleaned lad’s clothing and went downstairs
to break her fast. Discussing the mission with Dumbarton would clear her mind of
her attraction to Arthur.

Unfortunately, she found the subject of her thoughts already
at breakfast before her.  He and Dumbarton were poring over maps.  The older
man was excited, which meant he’d cracked the cipher. 

“Good morning, my dear,” said Dumbarton, as he moved to kiss
her hand, but was thwarted when Arthur stepped between them on his way to
refill his plate at the sideboard.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a late riser,” said Arthur,
as he tried to decide between bacon and sausage, then helped himself to both.

“I’m not,” said Vanessa crossly.  How like the man to be
where she didn’t want him.  “But I thought lords such as yourself rarely rose
before noon.”

“There are no other lords like myself.  And you will be
pleased to know that Dumbarton has solved the first piece of the puzzle.”

“It’s true,” said the professor, as he directed Sedgwick to
seat Vanessa next to him.  “Your cipher, my dear, would’ve been quite
impossible for anyone other than I.  But, of course, it was not much of a
challenge for me.  Would you care to know how I broke the code?  I will, of
course, use layman’s terms so you can understand.”

“Thank you professor,” she said as she took a sip of coffee.
“But now that we know what the papers say, I believe we should be on our way as
soon as possible.  Please be assured I’m certain it was most clever of you.”

Arthur choked on his coffee at her artful evasion, which no
doubt saved them not only time, but boredom. 

Dumbarton looked to be rather put out at being robbed of the
opportunity to flaunt his intelligence yet again.  But he pulled himself
together enough to tell them his conclusion.  “While I have only decoded the
first part of the papers….”

“And not all of them?” asked Arthur, who then shook his head
and quietly tsked.  He also put some of his food on Vanessa’s empty plate.

Dumbarton visibly bristled.  “The cipher changed at that
point in the papers.”

“So it was just as Miss Gans said last night?” asked Arthur,
who noticed she was trying not to smile.

“Be that as it may,” said Dumbarton, “it appears that the
first part of the papers do not name an English contact, if there even is one. 
Instead, it tells your Mortimer and Cassidy to steal an item of great worth. 
Presumably, they will then take it to the person who hired them.”

Vanessa looked her surprise.  “But why go to all that
trouble?  Whoever is behind this could have told them in a much easier way.”

“Normally, I would agree with you, but in this instance, the
item they are being asked to steal is of incalculable worth and great
significance.  The consequences for both the thieves and the contact would be
severe if word got out.”

“What’s the target?” asked Arthur. 

“The Larsen broadsword, which is housed in the Norwich
Castle Armory.  If you’ll permit me, I shall give you the background from an
academic’s perspective.  Norwich was a popular landing point for Vikings who
were, as history teaches us, quite bloodthirsty warriors.  They conquered
England and much of northern Europe and some think they even went so far as the
coast of North America. 

“One of the reasons they fought so well, besides their
innate criminal tendencies – Scandinavians are quite nasty creatures – was
their weaponry.   Their broadswords were crafted by artisans who knew how to
kill efficiently.  They were so good at their craft that entire myths were
built around their weaponry, such as the legend of Thor’s Hammer.  In this
case, there was a Viking leader named Horvath Larsen, who was said to have
conquered the local coastal defenses almost single-handedly.  He did it with a
broadsword of such acclaim that to just catch sight of it was enough to instill
fear in any serfs they encountered.  The hilt was inlaid with jewels taken from
castles they pillaged along the way.  Larsen was said to be invincible.  He marched
on London and likely would’ve conquered it, had it not been for his own
unexpected death.”

“How did he die?” asked Vanessa.

“By being lectured to death,” muttered Arthur into his
coffee.  He felt an answering kick under the table from Vanessa.

“He quite literally fell on his own sword,” said Dumbarton
triumphantly.  “It’s unclear whether an enemy poisoned the sword or it was
simply encrusted with enough bad humors to kill a man.  Some say an enemy snuck
in and killed him with it.  Others say he was drunk and tripped, sustaining a
wound that became putrid.  There’s even a theory that a woman was involved.”

“A woman is usually involved,” said Arthur.  “At least in
all the most interesting stories.”

Dumbarton ignored the comment and continued.  “There’s also
a mystical theory that says only someone who is truly good at heart can wield
the Larsen with impunity.  He died when his sins caught up to him.  But no
matter how it happened, his men were so disheartened that the siege failed.  Before
heading home, they discarded the broadsword in Norwich because they thought it
was cursed.  It ended up in some feudal lord’s hands, was passed down through
the generations and is now displayed in Norwich Castle at the Armory as a
symbol of British supremacy.”

“Or Viking clumsiness,” added Arthur.  And this time Vanessa
couldn’t help but giggle.

“You don’t believe in mysticism, Kellington?” asked
Dumbarton.

Arthur thought briefly of Sofia and her predictions.  “I
believe in what I can see and touch.”

“’There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are
dreamt of in your philosophy,’” quoted Dumbarton.

“Yes, well, Hamlet wasn’t a man I would choose to emulate.”

Dumbarton smiled.  “Be that as it may, Kellington, the sword
is the villains’ first target.” 

“An armory would surely be well-guarded,” said Vanessa.  “How
could they expect to steal the sword from such a place?”

“Norwich Castle is also the shire’s gaol,” replied
Dumbarton, as he motioned to Sedgwick to clear the table.  “There would be
plenty of distractions by the very nature of the occupants.  If your villains
are as resourceful as you say, they might be able to take advantage of the
situation to steal the sword.”

“That seems to be a fairly big risk, considering if they’re
caught they can be imprisoned on the spot,” said Arthur.  “What’s the sword’s
value?”

Dumbarton considered the question.  “It’s hard to say.  Not
only is it of great historical significance, but the jewels alone would bring a
king’s ransom.”

“That would certainly be enough to tempt Mortimer and
Cassidy,” said Vanessa.  “What about the rest of the papers?  Do you know when
you might finish with them?”

“Your villains are a good deal smarter than the average,”
said Dumbarton wistfully.  “I will be successful, of course, but it may take a
day or so.  Perhaps Kellington should go on to Norwich, while you stay here
until I get the next clue.”  

“But Lord Arthur can’t go by himself,” said Vanessa.  “If
anything, I should travel there and he should wait here for further
developments.”

Both Dumbarton and Arthur said “no” loudly and assuredly. 
It was, Vanessa observed, the first time they had agreed on anything.

Half an hour later, Arthur and Vanessa said their farewells
to Dumbarton.  He’d given them the name of an inn in Norwich where he would send
word as soon as he decoded the next portion of the papers.  But they
encountered an unexpected problem when they reached the mews.  Merlin had gone
lame.