At this announcement, every man at the table suddenly sat up, including Rafe.
Lonsdale grinned. “Well now, this changes things. I’ve only been trying for years to get Cedric to sell me a horse, and here he is just gifting one away.” Lonsdale pushed his empty plate away and stood. “Well, on with it. Pair us up and let’s get started!”
Lawrence chuckled as Zehra handed him a bit of paper. He scrawled down the names of everyone at the table, then tore the paper into strips. He folded up each name and put them in a white-and-blue china bowl. He swirled the names about with his fingers in an overly dramatic fashion. Both Lonsdale and Rafe looked ready to knock Lawrence down and pull the names out themselves. Peregrine tried not to laugh. When Lawrence finally began to speak, the entire room went silent.
“Zehra, you are with”—Lawrence dug for a second name—“Alexandra.”
Zehra smiled at her partner, the wife of Ambrose Worthing, a man Peregrine had only met yesterday but had immediately liked.
“Next, Rafe, you’ll be with . . . Darlington.”
Rafe exchanged a cunning grin with Vaughn Darlington, who sat at the end of the table next to his wife, Perdita. The viscount had once been quite a wicked man, if one believed the gossip, but his marriage of convenience to Perdita had ended up a romantic love match.
Rafe and Darlington would be a dangerous pair. Peregrine knew they were both clever men.
“Let’s see . . . Next up, me.” Lawrence set his name down on the table. “And I’m with Gareth.” He nodded at Gareth Fairfax, a quiet but respectful man in his midthirties who was absolutely mad for his sweet and vibrant wife, Helen. Peregrine had been enjoying meeting these new sets of couples. There was not one among them he wouldn’t be proud to call his friends.
“Helen, you are with Ambrose.” Lawrence sloshed the remaining names around in the bowl. “And Linus, you will be with Perdita.”
Linus, Lawrence’s youngest brother, smiled shyly at Vaughan’s dark-haired wife.
“Who’s left?” Lawrence asked as he glanced around the table.
“Me, damn you,” Lonsdale said.
Lawrence laughed again. “Charles, you are with . . . oh . . . Lysandra.”
Lonsdale grinned wickedly at Rafe. “Well, well, Rafe. I got the smartest person in the room as my partner. Isn’t that right, Lysa?” Lonsdale shot a charming smile at Lysandra. The young woman blushed.
“She may be the smartest, but she still has you to deal with,” Rafe shot back. “Call it a handicap.”
“So that puts Miss Talleyrand with Rutland,” Lawrence finished, ignoring Rafe and Lonsdale’s verbal sparring.
Peregrine couldn’t believe his luck. He’d been paired with Sabrina. He schooled his features so as to hide his excitement, though thankfully Rafe was preoccupied with his quarrel with Lonsdale.
“Let’s make this interesting,” Rafe said to Lonsdale. “Hundred pounds to the winning pair.”
“Done.” Lonsdale shook hands with Rafe.
Lawrence spoke up. “All right, Zehra has clues for each pair. They’ve been prepared by our butler, who has a knack for this sort of thing. You have two hours. Whoever finds the final clue will be declared the winners.”
Peregrine’s heart raced as he and Sabrina exchanged glances. He had a sanctioned two hours to spend with her, and Rafe could say nothing about it.
Everyone paired up, and Zehra passed out the first clue. The rest of the clues were located at hidden spots, leading up to the final clue. When they discovered one, they were to read it and then place the clue back where they had found it.
Sabrina received the paper with their copy of the first clue. She and Peregrine, along with little Isla, went over to the window to read it in better light. Peregrine lifted Isla up on a chair near them so she could see the paper, even though she was still learning to read.
“Clue number one,” Sabrina read softly.
Do not frown at me, I made it clear.
It won’t make a difference if you’re near.
Stand in front of me beneath the starlight,
And I’ll show you exactly how the world will know you.
Peregrine repeated the words under his breath. “Starlight . . . Well, it isn’t night and won’t be before the challenge is done, so it must be something else.”
“Yes, my thoughts exactly,” Sabrina agreed. “And it must be something you stand in front of . . . The fireplace?”
Peregrine automatically glanced around the dining room. The other pairs had already departed. They were alone, and the fireplace was there opposite them.
“But fire does not make anything clear. It burns and the smoke obscures.”
“Stars!” Isla said with a giggle. Both Sabrina and Peregrine glanced down at her in surprise.
“What did you say?” Sabrina asked.
The little girl tapped the paper. “Stars! I know where stars are.”
“You do? Where?” Peregrine asked.
She climbed down off the chair and started to leave. Peregrine and Sabrina followed her until they reached the music room. No one else was inside. The circular room was decorated with gold wainscoting and pastoral scenes of plump sheep and buxom shepherdesses lounging on hills. There was a large white marble fireplace, and above it was a vast mirror.
Peregrine looked around, but Isla suddenly tugged on his trousers. When he looked down at her, she pointed upward. He and Sabrina both tilted their heads back to see the ceiling, which was covered in dark-blue paint and hundreds of gold stars.
“My God,” Peregrine chuckled. “I believe we have the real genius here. Who knew the little mite was a master of riddles?” He bent to scoop the child up and whirled her around as a reward. Sabrina gave him an intense look, even as she smiled at him.
Sabrina approached the fireplace and examined around the edges. “Where’s the next clue?” She spotted a slip of paper inside the curved neck of a golden swan that was molded to the base of the gilded frame of the mirror. Peregrine and Isla joined her. He put his arm around Sabrina’s shoulders as they read the next clue together.
My arrow is sharp, and my aim is true,
But I won’t trick or deceive you.
Pale as ash when burning hot,
Yet warm to the touch I am not.
Peregrine rubbed Sabrina’s hip, enjoying the feel of her warmth against him. He was truly enjoying himself, and he could see in her eyes that she was too. There was a playful intimacy in this scavenger hunt, and he wished it didn’t have to end so soon.
“Arrows . . . Are there any paintings of warriors or soldiers?” he asked her.
“No, I don’t think so,” Sabrina mused. “At least I don’t recall seeing anything. Arrows would be old, so tapestries most likely, but I do not remember any of those with arrows either.”
“What of the next part?” Peregrine asked. “What is pale like ash but cold to the touch?”
“Something white,” Sabrina said confidently. “But cold, like stone. Perhaps an armory?”
“It’s possible. But is there an armory in this house?” Peregrine asked.
“No, I don’t believe there is.” Sabrina nibbled her lip. “It’s the arrow I can’t seem to place.”
“Wait . . .” Peregrine thought back to the tour of Lawrence’s house. “There’s a gallery of marble statues. They would be cold to the touch . . . What do you think?”