A Christmas Charade by Karla Hocker

course, George might have forgotten a previous meeting, since Fanny’s friends were legion. But Fanny was no dissembler, and Clive could tell from the speculative light in her eyes as she greeted Miss Gore-Langton that this was the first time she saw Lady Astley’s companion.
    He could not like that speculative look, but even less did he like the hard stare Margaret directed at Elizabeth. It was always the same when he was obliged to introduce a young lady to them. In Fanny an introduction raised instant hope that he had finally decided to forgo widowerhood; in Margaret it raised immediate enmity toward the lady in question.
    When they approached his uncle, who was sitting with Stewart and Sir John and Lady Astley, Clive thought Miss Gore-Langton’s step dragged a bit. But he must have been mistaken, for she showed no hesitancy in conversing with Decimus when his uncle said he had known her father.
    “I am sure you did, sir,” she said with a smile. “He used to be a friend of the Prince of Wales as, I believe, you are.”
    “Demmed shame he died so young. A hunting accident, wasn’t it? Must’ve been hard for you and your mother.”
    “My mother died two months earlier, sir.”
    Decimus looked startled. “She did, did she? Pray accept my condolences.”
    “Thank you, sir. But it all happened a decade ago.”
    Before Decimus could say anything else, Fanny joined them.
    “Clive, I was telling Margaret about the treasure, and she suggested we hold a treasure hunt tomorrow. I think it’s a splendid notion. What do you say?”
    “I cannot imagine what you’re talking about. What treasure?”
    “Have you forgotten? Uncle Decimus told us all about it!”
    “The jewels!” exclaimed Decimus. “By jove, if I didn’t forget about them myself!”
    Clive gave his uncle a hard stare. “The jewels of the first fourth duchess? Devil a bit, Decimus! I was sure you told the tale merely to satisfy our childish craving for romance and excitement.”
    “No such thing, my boy! Edward’s first wife brought into the marriage jewelry worth a king’s ransom. The baubles were kept—”
    “In a small marquetry chest!” interjected Clive and Fanny simultaneously.
    Fanny added, “And since the fire, no one has seen either the chest or the jewels.”
    “How exciting!” said Elizabeth. “A treasure hunt would be just the thing to keep those delightful children I met this morning out of trouble.”
    Fanny beamed. “My niece and nephew. And Clive’s, of course. They are delightful, aren’t they? So bright and lively. Of course they must join us. Everyone must join in.”
    “Count me out,” said Clive. “I have business to attend.”
    Decimus looked shocked. “My boy, you’ve got your priorities mixed up. If you find the jewels, you won’t need to attend to business of any kind.”
    “If you find anything, I trust you to hand it over to the rightful heir.” Clive grinned. “But, frankly, Decimus, I doubt there is a treasure. I grant you that Father shied away from Stenton, but he’d never have left a fortune to molder when he could have used it on the Shropshire farms.”
    “Edward did look for the jewels,” Decimus admitted. “Drove down here about six or seven months after the tragedy. But he found nothing. Told me he believed some servant made off with the chest.”
    “There you are, then.”
    Fanny encompassed both men in an indignant look. “Well, I think there is a treasure.”
    “Go hunt for it,” said Clive. “I’ve no objections.”
    “After you’ve taken all the fun out of it?” Fanny shook her head. “I think not. But I tell you something, Clive! If you don’t watch out, you’ll turn into a regular dry old stick. A killjoy. A crepehanger!”
    Chuckling, Clive drew Elizabeth away. “What do you think, Miss Gore-Langton? Are the jewels hidden somewhere in the castle or have they been carried off?”
    “My opinion is of no importance, your grace. But allow me to point out that a treasure