Damian accepted the cell phone from Cassie’s outstretched hand and gallantly refrained from mentioning his handkerchief.
“I wouldn’t have been able to reach you even if you’d had your mobile with you,” said Cassie. “My earlier calls didn’t go through to Peter because his mobile didn’t work down in the cavern.”
“Too much solid rock,” said Damian.
“Blocked the signal,” Peter confirmed. “We rang Sir Percy, though, to find out if you’d returned. When he told us you hadn’t, I admitted to him that if you’d followed me into the cavern, I might have closed the memorial tablet on top of you. When he finished laughing, he ordered Elliot to go and get you.”
“I also convinced our young celebrities to move into Dundrillin,” Sir Percy interposed. “Though it would be more accurate to say that Mr. Nunen’s unwelcome arrival convinced them. Mrs. Gammidge put them in the Daffodil Suite, in the northeast tower, where they’ll be safe from prying eyes and lenses.”
“Mrs. Gammidge also decided that my entire wardrobe required laundering.” Peter smoothed the lapel of his paisley dressing gown. “Sir Percy very kindly allowed me to borrow some of his son’s night attire.”
Cassie uttered a stifled croak of laughter, which she disguised—unconvincingly—as a cough. Peter’s blush outshone his red pajamas.
Damian stirred. “About the memorial tablet . . .”
“Sir Percy told us about it,” Peter said eagerly. “It’s absolutely fascinating.”
“Feel free to share your knowledge with us,” I coaxed, looking from him to Sir Percy.
“The original tablet was damaged by shrapnel,” said Sir Percy, “when the Royal Navy was using Erinskil for target practice. When the islanders returned after the war, they replaced the original with a convincing fake.”
“Why?” I asked.
“They intended to use the caverns as a bomb shelter, if the occasion ever arose,” Sir Percy explained. “We’d entered the atomic age, remember. Bomb shelters were all the rage.”
“But why replace the original tablet with a fake?” I persisted. “The original would have given them access to the caves.The monks were able to lift it.”
“It took six strong men to lift it,” Sir Percy informed me. “The replacement is made of a composite material that a healthy child can shift. The islanders wanted everyone on Erinskil to be able to seek shelter there.”
“I believe we’re the first outsiders to enter the caverns,” Peter said with a touch of pride.
“Apart from the Vikings,” Damian murmured.
“Here endeth the lesson,” droned Sir Percy. He studied Peter and Cassie for a moment, then clapped his hands commandingly. “Off to your suite, my children. It’s well past your bedtime. Don’t lose any sleep over the journalist. Mrs. Gammidge will sort him out.”
Peter drained his glass, placed it on a table at his elbow, and flapped over to stand before me and Damian.
“I’m more sorry than I can possibly say,” he said. “If I’d known the amount of bother I’d cause, I wouldn’t have gone to the ruins.”
“It’s okay.” I pushed the blanket aside and stood to give him a hug. “You can’t help being curious.You were raised in Finch.”
“Damian?” said Peter anxiously, when I’d released him.
“No harm done,” said Damian. “But if Mrs. Gammidge suggests barricading you in the northeast tower, I won’t argue with her.”
Peter smiled gratefully and turned a tentative eye toward Cassie. After a brief hesitation, he held his hand out to her. She gripped it as if she’d never let it go and graciously permitted her contrite young swain to escort her from the library. I resumed my seat on the couch and pulled the blanket over my lap, hoping they’d take Will’s advice and hold the wedding at Dundrillin.
“Well, that’s settled,” said Sir Percy, after they’d gone. “She’s been glowering at him all evening. I was afraid I’d have to put them in separate towers. But all’s well that ends well.” He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Half past eleven. I expect you’re both ready for bed.”
“Not quite, Sir Percy,” Damian said quietly. “There are a few points we’d like to discuss with you before we retire.”
“No time like the present.” Sir Percy sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his waistcoat. “Fire away, old man.”
Damian regarded him steadily. “The security dossier you prepared for me and Andrew fails to mention the false memorial tablet, the staircase, and the caves below the monastery ruins. Why were those items left out of the report?”