The Earl With the Secret Tattoo by Kieran Kramer Read Free Book Online Page B

matter—had gone far to making
     Eleanor the quiet girl she became. Never again had she shared with her parents or
     any close friends her perceptions of people—in case she were mistaken about them.
    She revealed her observations in stories. She followed her intuition only on the page.
    “It was a lovely visit,” she said now to her stepfather. “Lady Brady was her usual
     gracious self. Thank you for asking.”
    “Did you find out anything more about the talisman?” Clare asked her, their hips and
     shoulders touching as the carriage swayed.
    “The talisman?” Lord Pritchard asked sharply.
    “Yes, Father,” said Clare. “Remember the copper talisman Lord Robert found in the
     cave near Summer’s End?”
    “I do,” interjected Mama, her gold-spangled shawl setting off her beautifully rounded
     shoulders. “It was a bit crude, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes,” said Clare. “There was an etching on it of some sort. I don’t remember what
     it was. But it was distinctly primitive.”
    “It wasn’t much of a talisman, if you ask me,” said Lord Pritchard. “It could have
     come from a penny shop.” He looked at Eleanor. “Why would you want to ask the Sherwoods
     about it, especially all these years later?”
    “No good reason, really,” she said. “I’ve had occasional dreams about the robbery.
     I was asking Clare what she remembered about that day—”
    “We wondered if the robbers were after the talisman,” said Clare, excitement in her
     voice. “They didn’t take anything else.”
    “Oh?” asked Mother.
    “But perhaps they might have,” Eleanor said, “if the masked man hadn’t shown up and
     scared them off.”
    “True,” said Clare.
    “Masked man? I never heard about him, ” protested Lord Pritchard.
    “Oh, I told you,” Mother replied breezily. “One of the robbers wasn’t working with
     the others; that’s what Eleanor described in her letter. Remember?”
    “No,” said Lord Pritchard in short, clipped fashion. He always hated being the last to
     hear gossip or news.
    “Mother, I didn’t actually say that,” Eleanor corrected her gently. “I said there
     was a separate man who came upon the scene. He was there to frighten away the robbers.”
    “But, Eleanor, I read your letter,” Mother insisted. “He was a robber, too. He wore
     that mask.”
    “Yes, but—”
    Mother crossed her arms and lofted one finely arched brow. “I know of what I speak,
     young lady. You were a mere child at the time. I was, and am, your mother.”
    Eleanor suppressed a sigh. She couldn’t tell Mother anything. First, Eleanor had been
     fifteen at the time of the robbery—hardly a mere child. And her mother didn’t really
     care what Eleanor ever did and probably had given only a cursory glance to the letter.
     Second, even if Mother were wrong, she’d never admit it.
    “Enough,” said Lord Pritchard, scowling. “This whole story sounds like a theatrical
     drama gone bad. It’s over and done with.”
    “I do admit we might be getting away with ourselves,” Eleanor admitted sheepishly
     to Clare.
    “True.” Clare’s cheeks turned pink. “The talisman might have come from a fair, for
     all we know.”
    “Or a gypsy caravan,” Eleanor suggested.
    Absurdly, they both burst into giggles. Eleanor wasn’t usually a giggler. But perhaps
     it was because she’d rarely had anyone with whom to giggle. It was rather nice, actually,
     especially as Clare’s eyes twinkled when she looked at her.
    Eleanor felt a burst of happiness. And hope.
    But when she looked up, Lord Pritchard was stony-faced.
    “It’s good to see you two getting along,” Mother said with a tentative smile.
    “I fear you both have too much time on your hands.” Lord Pritchard was being quite
     the grump, worse than usual. He put on a sanguine air for the world, but at home he
     could be quite surly.
    “Oh, it’s nothing, Father.” Clare waved a gloved hand. “I’ve got the wedding to occupy
     my thoughts