Prologue
“ Vultures! They are all vultures.” Harriet, Lady Kirkwood, flung the letter she was reading to the floor. Her lace cap quivered on her white curls, while her wrinkled face creased even further in a fierce frown.
Rose, Lady Kirkwood's faithful maid, looked up from her dusting in alarm. “My lady! Please do not upset yourself. You will have a spell.” She quickly poured out a glass of wine and pressed it into Lady Kirkwood's shaking hand.
“A spell is just what my husband's dear nephew is counting on,” Lady Kirkwood said bitterly, but she took the wine and sipped at it. Slowly, color came back to her cheeks. “Sir Reginald Kirkwood writes to tell me that his son Edward is getting married soon, to a Miss Bates from Bath, and that they would make me...” Lady Kirkwood paused to pick up the letter from the floor and look at it. “Most suitable heirs. And they wish me to visit for Christmas, so I may meet this Miss Bates. They say they will happily 'condole with me in the waning light of my life'.”
Rose laughed. “Waning light of your life, my lady?”
“Exactly. Well, I am not dead, nor dying, just yet.”
“ A betrothal is good news, though. Is it not, my lady?” Rose asked cautiously.
“ Of course. Except when it is dim-witted young Eddie's. He is just as snobbish and grasping as his parents. My husband could never abide them, that is why he left all his money to me.” Lady Kirkwood balled the letter up and tossed it into the fireplace. “They are vultures, just waiting to pounce on this place once I am gone.” She tapped her cane thoughtfully on the floor. “We shall just see about that.”
“ My lady?”
“ They will get the house, of course. That is in the entail, and there is nothing I can do about that. But they will not get my own money. Do you remember the house party we had a few years ago, Rose, right before my husband died?”
Rose blinked at this abrupt change of topic. But years with Lady Kirkwood had taught her to follow wherever her ladyship led. “Of course, my lady. It was ever so merry.”
“My own nephew's widow was here, with her three little daughters. I am sure they are not so little any more. The eldest will be of an age to marry. And my husband's sister's son, young William, was also here. How handsome he was! They have all written to me often, of course, but I somehow time got away from me and I never invited them back after that.”
“ Are you thinking to make one of them your heir, my lady?” Rose asked, getting caught up in the intrigue.
“ Oh, Rose, you have been with me for many years. You should know me better than that! I cannot make things so easy. I must set up a challenge.”
“ A challenge?”
“ Yes. A scavenger hunt, perhaps, like the one I remember from my youth. Do you recall the song about the Twelve Days of Christmas?”
“ The one with all the birds, and the dancing ladies and golden rings?”
“ The very one. It was my husband's favorite Christmas carol. I will have everyone here for the holiday, and whoever can bring me each of those twelve objects will be heir to my fortune.” Lady Kirkwood laughed with delight at the prospect, a sound Rose hadn't heard in too long. “It will be vastly amusing.”
Rose frowned doubtfully. “Are there not a great many objects in that song, my lady? Won't it be hard to find them all?”
“Hm. You may be correct, Rose. And we would not want lords a-leaping and ladies dancing all over the place. Perhaps we will only go up to, oh, seven swans a swimming. Yes, that should do it.”
“ But, my lady, what if Sir Reginald and his family wins?”
“ I am absolutely sure they will not. Besides, the object is not really to win. It is to have an amusing holiday. So bring me my lap desk, Rose. I have invitations to write.”
**
This is a godsend, Allison dear! An absolute godsend.” Mrs. Josephine Gordon clutched Lady Kirkwood's newly arrived letter in her thin hands. A rare smile lit
Allen McGill
Cynthia Leitich Smith
Kevin Hazzard
Joann Durgin
L. A. Witt
Andre Norton
Gennita Low
Graham Masterton
Michael Innes
Melanie Jackson