When he returned, Gwyneth was not in her chair, though he heard her step on the stair. She came in with her arms laden with paper, of which he happily relieved her, though the sheer mass made him shake his head. “Thunder and turf, let us hope it is not all encoded, or we will not get through it for years to come.”
“Papa was an orderly sort. He likely put the most important things on top.” She pulled out the first page, which was filled with numbers rather than letters. From the expression on her face, Gwyneth’s father had certainly not given her the lessons in cryptology Thad’s father had given him. “Can you make sense of this?”
“Not at a glance, but it is a simple methodology.” He tapped the first combination of numbers. “The first number is for the page, the second for the line, the third for the word on the line.”
“And when there is a fourth number?”
“The letter in the word, which he would use to spell out words not in the book, such as names.” He sighed. “Of course, this will be in French.”
She angled a grin up at him. “Do not tell me that cows you, my love. I have heard you speaking French with Arnaud.”
“Very little.” He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “We will leave that part to you, who can no doubt translate French to English in your sleep.”
She smiled and rested her hand on the Lavoisier. “Should we start now or head out to the banks as planned?”
“The banks will be there in an hour or two. We have waited long enough to know your father’s mind. You work from the top down, and I will work from the bottom up.”
It was tedious business, full of flipping and counting and note taking, especially laborious any time Fairchild had had to spell out a word. But with two of them at work, they made good progress. Once the entire sheet had been deciphered into French, Thad scooted their page to Gwyneth. “If you would, my darling.”
Though she flashed him a smile, anxiousness tinged it. “Certainly.” With a deep breath, she scanned ahead and then began. “ ‘I pray you are in receipt of my letter and the mask you need to unravel its message about my wife’s brother’s schemes. I send this information to you, good sir, because I know the legacy your parents would have passed to you, and I know too the esteem in which you are held by all who know you. Most of all, I know you seek first and foremost the will of the Lord. I believe this war to be one of vengeance rather than justice, and though I have done all I can here, Gates’s influence runs too deep. Yet his motives for continuing the war are pure avarice and malice.’ ”
She paused, swallowed, and shook her head before continuing. “ ‘If you are reading this letter, it is because my daughter has safely arrived at your home. I pray you, look after her and keep her out of the clutches of her uncle, who would destroy her and any other of my family who gets in his way. I know in my heart you will fast become friends and have a feeling more could easily develop between you. If so, know you have my blessing. If not, dismiss this as the rambling of a desperate old man who only wants his precious child to be safe and happy.’ ”
Thad rested his hands on her shoulders and gave them a long, gentle squeeze. He could not fathom how the man had suspected what would happen when he scarcely knew Thad except through his parents’ letters. But how wonderful that he had.
Gwyneth cleared her throat and swiped at her cheeks. “ ‘I have also sent with Gwyneth a copy of my will, wherein you will find that your parents have been named as her guardians, unless Gates has passed away before they can come for her, in which case my elder brother would receive the guardianship. I have left instructions with my solicitors in England that they are not to read that section of the will unless Gwyneth is present, so if she is with you, then my family is still unaware of this stipulation. I trust you can imagine why I would make it.’ ”
Her eyes fell to the final few lines. “And here he says that the rest of the evidence will either use the corresponding masks or a dictionary which he sent to your father a year ago as a key.”
He circled his thumb over the base of her neck and let a loose tendril curl around it. “Good. Not so much spelling out will be required.”
But he already knew what the information in the documents would tell him—that he had to stop Gates. Stop the war, stop the crime. And pray, with all his being, that the Lord would heal the nation this man would rend asunder.
Thirty-One
Arthur stared into the fire long after the camp behind him settled into silence. He watched each dancing flame, each pop of spark. And he wondered which tiny ember might land upon him next and set him off like a keg of gunpowder. That was what his Uncle Hart had called him, was it not? Volatile. Dangerous.
No. His hand fisted against his leg, and he tamped that lid back down, if a keg he was.