The Secret Christmas Ciphers (11 page)

“I’m sure I don’t know. But judging from the condition of the paper, I’d guess these are at least two hundred and fifty years old.”

“Well, since we can’t read them, why don’t we burn them?”

A sudden whoosh sounded from the fireplace and a burst of red flames boiled out for a split second.

“Damnation,” grumbled the earl. “I’ve got to get someone to check those gas logs. The line must have clogged for a minute.”

His bride turned her back to him, holding the bundle in front of her in a protective posture. “Don’t you dare think of destroying these papers, Melton. They once meant a great deal to someone or they would not have been hidden under a false bottom in the chest. I wonder how many there are.”

The earl sighed as his bride carried the bundle toward the desk. “Don’t get too close to the fireplace, my dear,” he called. “I won’t trust those logs again until I can get someone to check the gas line.”

“Very well,” she murmured, obviously distracted. She sat down in the desk chair and carefully spread the papers out in front of her. “Look. There are separate bundles folded together, and there are red stains on the top sheets as though they were once sealed with wax. I’m going to count the bundles, so don’t interrupt. One, two, three, four…”

Five minutes later, she looked up from her task. “Fifty-one. Isn’t that the number of years your great, great, great grandfather and his wife were married?”

The earl, who had slumped into a chair on the opposite side of the desk, straightened. “I believe you’re right. I’m supposedly named after the bloke. He was some sort of hero who helped defeat Napoleon, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, or so the family history says. There was a tale, as I recall hearing from your Uncle Marvin, that your ancestor was considered one of the top decoders in the world. I’ll bet these are ciphers that he decoded.”

“Then why were they hidden in that chest?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. But in any case, I’m putting them back where they were. I have a feeling we were never supposed to have seen them.”

“Oh, very well. I suppose you’re right. It can’t matter much after all this time anyway.”

Lady Melton shot her new husband a flirtatious smile. “And after we’ve returned these to their rightful hiding place, perhaps we should examine your bedroom to ensure the new decorations meet with your approval.”

Lord Melton jumped to his feet, a wide grin on his face. “Sounds like the perfect plan to me. Let’s go.”

A few minutes later, after Lord and Lady Melton had left the library, a sprig of mistletoe loosened and fell from the bunch that had been tied to the chandelier above the desk. It landed on the antique quill that had been placed in one corner of the desk as a decoration, and somehow the two tumbled off the desk and rolled underneath it where they came to a stop beside a scrap of ancient paper that had broken off one of the ciphers when Lady Melton was counting them.

And without further ado, two bells hanging on the Christmas tree in the corner tinkled out a merry tune and then silenced. The fire whooshed out again, then slowed to a steady burn, while a soft snow began falling outside the library window. The secret Christmas ciphers were once again in their rightful place and at peace.

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