Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)

Caro’s face was a mask of concentration, while McClellan leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Have no fears—at the sign of the Witch, the double-faced eagle’s feathers will turn to dust,” he recited. “I assume you tried a simple Caesar shift on the letters?”

“What’s that?” asked Caro.

“A way of encrypting a message,” answered Anna. “It involves shifting the letters of the alphabet—but that usually results in gibberish. And besides, the message was originally written in French, so that rules out the possibility.”

“True,” said McClellan, and then quickly added, “By the by, how do you know so much about codes?”

“I read a great deal,” she replied blandly.

Devlin swallowed a snort before voicing his own observation. “It seems fairly clear to me that it’s referring to the next attempt on the prince’s life. The coat of arms of Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt contains a double-headed eagle.”

“Drat, how could I have missed such an obvious clue?” murmured Anna.

He flashed her a private grin that made her insides give a lopsided lurch. “I have a bit more experience in clandestine missions than you do.” His lips, however, quickly thinned to a grim line. “But I confess, I haven’t a clue as to what the first part of the message means.”

“I wonder, are they expecting another conspirator?” mused Caro.

“That’s a very good point,” said Devlin. “McClellan, can you make inquiries about whether any stranger has been spotted in the area?”

“Aye,” answered the baron.

“Perhaps it’s Polianov,” said Anna “His government has reason to covet Prince Gunther’s land, and he’s been acting very suspiciously of late. For one thing, he’s developed a sudden interest in me, which is a little alarming. I fear he may have seen me moving around the castle at night.”

“Forget Polianov,” replied Devlin. “I searched his quarters quite thoroughly the other night and found a letter he had just written to one of his comrades in London. I regret to say that his interest in you is purely monetary. Lady Dunbar mentioned to him that you are an heiress, and apparently he’s decided you are the answer to his prayers for a life of indolence, now that his family coffers are nearly bled dry.”

“I see.”

“Don’t look so stricken,” he murmured softly. “You’ve plenty of genuine admirers.”

Flustered, she turned slightly, hiding her face in shadow. To her relief, Caro provided a distraction, by clearing her throat. “I have been thinking…”

Devlin signaled for her to go on.

“We also ought to consider whether ‘witch’ has some other meaning. After all, Shakespeare made Scotland rather famous for witches. Perhaps it’s a metaphor.”

Anna wasn’t quite sure what McClellan’s low grunt signified, but she herself was exceedingly impressed with her sister’s thinking. “I think that’s a splendid idea. Shall we fetch a copy of Macbeth? It may be that one of the scenes with the witches will provide the key.”

Devlin nodded thoughtfully.

“Or,” said McClellan suddenly, “it may not be a metaphor but rather an actual physical place or landmark.”

“Yes, yes, that makes sense.” Caro’s voice thrummed with rising excitement. “And since you suggested it, I assume you have an idea of what that place might be,”

“Aye. There is a set of wind-carved stones on the moors that resemble three figures leaning together in close conversation. The locals call the knoll ‘the Witch Coven.’ And in discussing the best hunting beats in this area with the prince and his party, I’ve made mention several times that I intend to lead our party to that spot tomorrow. The ghillies have scouted the hills there and report the grouse are quite plentiful.”

“Would Verdemont know this?” asked Devlin.

McClellan looked faintly amused. “All of the hunting party does. Had you bothered to listen to my lectures during our breaks for food and drinks while shooting, you would, too. But no, you found wandering off to inspect the rocks and lichens infinitely more interesting.”

“Tramping the hills is not my favorite activity. It’s far too exhausting,” drawled Devlin. “I was actually stealing a nap while you prosed on about the ideal habitats for the local flora and fauna.”

“Let us not stray from the point, gentlemen,” chided Anna. “It now seems inarguable that Verdemont and Lady de Blois are the villains—”

“I trust you will concede that confiding your secret to me and Lord McClellan was a wise move,” interrupted Caro. “Despite your misgivings—all of your misgivings—I’ll have you know that I can be trusted to act with sense and caution.”

McClellan opened his mouth to speak and then appeared to think better of it.

Wise man, mused Anna, understanding all too well her sister’s feelings. It was not easy being the youngest, especially with two strong-willed older siblings. All too often, Caro had been told she was not yet mature enough to be treated as an equal. And while her emotions still got the better of her at times…