Lady Osbaldestone’s Plum Puddings: Lady Osbaldestone’s Christmas Chronicles Volume 3 Page 3

  Therese gestured to Mandy, who had pulled out her handkerchief and was loosening the knot. “As you know,” Therese said, “the village has been collecting coins—silver pennies, with the occasional threepenny and sixpence thrown in—for use in the plum puddings. While cleaning the collected coins this morning, the children discovered these.”

  With the handkerchief spread on her palm, the coins shining against the white, Mandy leaned forward and held out her hand so the reverend could examine their find.

  He looked, then reached into his pocket and drew out a pair of pince-nez. After balancing them on his nose, he peered again, then picked up one of the coins and studied it—first one side, then the reverse.

  Reverend Colebatch blinked. “Good heavens!” He squinted again, then returned the coin and picked up another.

  The children exchanged excited glances and waited, their gazes following the reverend’s every move, every twitch of expression crossing his face.

  Finally, Reverend Colebatch returned the third coin to Mandy’s palm, glanced briefly at Therese, then looked at the children. “Am I to take it you found these coins mixed in with all the rest?”

  Jamie nodded. “Do you know what they are?”

  “Yes and, sadly, no. I strongly suspect all three are Roman, but while I’ve heard of the like, I’ve never actually seen Roman coins myself. I can’t tell you anything of what type of coin they are or what period or reign they’re from.” The reverend held up a finger. “However, I know of an antiquities scholar who, I believe, will be able to tell you all you wish to know about these coins.”

  “Who?” George asked.

  “An old friend from my university days—Professor Hildebrand Webster of Brentmore College in Oxford. He has a sound reputation, established over many years, in the field of ancient artifacts, and these coins, I believe, fall firmly within his area of expertise.” The reverend glanced at Therese, then looked at the children. “If you wish it, I would be happy to write to the professor and tell him of your discovery and ask his advice as to how best to proceed.”

  Therese looked at the children and arched her brows.

  The five exchanged glances, then Jamie—who, when it came to Reverend Colebatch, appeared to be the elected spokesman—nodded. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Until we know what the coins are, we don’t even know if there’s anything to be excited about.”

  “Exactly so!” Reverend Colebatch clapped his palms on the chair’s arms and pushed to his feet. “I’ll write straightaway—although I warn you, even if my letter goes out in tomorrow morning’s mail, it’ll be the better part of a week before we can hope to hear back…” He paused, head cocking in thought, then went on, “Of course, knowing Hildebrand, it’s most likely he’ll come himself.” Reverend Colebatch refocused on the children and grinned. “I can’t imagine he won’t want to examine these coins in person.”

  To Therese’s eyes, the children looked a trifle less enthused at the notion of an erudite professor descending on them and their find, but all five managed a grateful smile.

  “Perhaps,” she said, “while we’re waiting for the professor to write back, the children might attempt to learn how the coins found their way into our collection. Once we know who put the coins in the jar, presumably, we’ll be able to learn where that person found them.”

  “Indeed!” Reverend Colebatch clapped his hands together and gripped, as if to restrain his building excitement. “If Hildebrand comes to examine the coins, that, undoubtedly, will be the very first thing he’ll want to know.” He looked at the children. “This could lead to a very important discovery for the entire village.” With a last nod to them all, he swung on his heel. “I’ll take myself off and write that letter forthwith.”

  Mrs. Colebatch insisted on serving them afternoon tea, and as the scones of her cook, Mrs. Hatchett, were a legend in the village, everyone readily acquiesced.

  Once the scones were devoured and the teacups drained, Therese and her tribe took their leave of Mrs. Colebatch, who, given the reverend hadn’t reappeared, promised to ensure that the vital letter was completed, properly addressed, and sent out for the post first thing in the morning. “Never fear,” Mrs. Colebatch said and waved them on their way.

  The sky was darkening ominously, and the wind had risen, howling through the treetops as they made their way along the lane and up the manor’s drive.

  Therese walked with the children around her, Jamie and George solicitously flanking her, instinctively behaving as their very correct father would.

  “Where should we start our search?” Lottie asked.

  “How should we search?” Mandy looked at the others.

  George glanced back along the lane. “Perhaps we should pop along to the Arms and Mountjoy’s Store before the store closes for the day and ask if anyone there knows about our odd coins.”

  It was already after four o’clock, and the light was swiftly fading. “I suggest,” Therese said, “that in this case, a logical approach will serve you best. I would advise spending the evening planning, then you may commence your hunt in the most effective manner in the morning.”

  Her pronouncement met with ready agreement; none of them truly wished to forsake the warmth of her private parlor for the increasingly frigid darkness.

  “We’ll draw up a plan,” Jamie declared. “A campaign to discover the source of our coins.”

  Chapter 2

  The following morning, Jamie and Mandy led the way into Mountjoy’s Store. Mrs. Mountjoy was serving behind the counter; the five children waited to one side until she was free of customers. When she looked inquiringly their way, Jamie and Mandy stepped forward.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Mountjoy,” Jamie politely said.

  “Good morning, your lordship.” Mrs. Mountjoy smiled. “And what can I do for you and yours today?”

  “We’ve come about some odd coins we found in the jars, mixed up with the pennies for the plum puddings.” Jamie glanced at Mandy. “This is another of my cousins, Melissa’s sister, Mandy.”

  Mandy nodded to Mrs. Mountjoy. “Good morning, ma’am.” Mandy showed Mrs. Mountjoy the coins, once again displayed on her handkerchief.

  “We think the coins are old,” Jamie went on. “Possibly very old.”

  “Reverend Colebatch is writing to an Oxford professor about them,” George put in, “and in the meantime, we’ve volunteered to help by finding out where the coins came from.”

  “If we could find out who put them in the jar,” Lottie piped up, “we could ask them.”

  Mrs. Mountjoy, who had been peering at the coins, straightened and smiled at Lottie. “I see. But I’m afraid I don’t know who that was.” The shopkeeper looked at Jamie. “I’ve never seen coins like that before. Are you sure they were in the jar from here?”

  Jamie pulled a face. “We can’t say. We only found them after we’d tipped out both jars and cleaned all the coins.”

  “We wondered,” Melissa said, “if you would mind asking your customers when they stop by if they’d noticed having any odd coins. Coins that looked old and not like our normal coins.”

  Mrs. Mountjoy pursed her lips, but after a moment, she nodded. “No harm in asking. I’ll speak with Cyril and our sons and daughter-in-law—they mind the shop, too—about asking all our customers.” She nodded at Mandy as she retied her handkerchief with the coins inside. “It’s possible someone will remember handling strange coins.”

  “If you don’t mind,” Jamie said, “we’ll call in every day to see if anyone has remembered the coins.”

  Mrs. Mountjoy smiled. “Eager as ever, I see.” She tapped the counter. “If any of us hear anything, we’ll be sure to leave a message for you here.”

  They thanked Mrs. Mountjoy and left the shop.

  “Next stop, the Cockspur Arms,” Jamie declared.

  They started walking down the lane toward the public house, which faced the village green.

  “How often do the villagers come into the store?” Ma
ndy asked.

  Jamie glanced at her, then grimaced. “It might be a week or more before all the regular customers stop by.”

  “And there are some who live farther out,” George mused. “They might only come into the village every few weeks—not every week.”

  Melissa sighed. “So even if the Mountjoys ask everyone who enters the shop over the next week, they still might not speak with the person who put the coins in the jar.”

  “We don’t even know if the jar from the store was the one the coins were in,” Mandy pointed out.

  “Hoi, the manor tribe!”

  The hail had them halting and turning to look back up the lane.

  A group of five young gentlemen had, apparently, been ambling into the village; now, the group lengthened their strides. The gentleman in the lead was of medium height and stocky build, with curly blond hair framing a pleasant face, currently wreathed in a beaming smile.

  Jamie, George, and Lottie beamed delightedly in return. Melissa smiled more shyly.

  “Henry!” Jamie raised a hand in salute—only to have Henry seize it and shake it vigorously.

  “Well met, young Skelton.” Releasing Jamie’s hand, Henry nodded to George and Lottie. “And George and Lottie, too. And Miss Melissa.” Henry sketched a bow; as he straightened, he looked curiously at Mandy. “We’d wondered if you lot would come again this year. It wouldn’t be the same roll-up to Christmas without the whole gang, what?” Before Jamie could answer, Henry smiled at Mandy. “And who’s this? Another cousin? Pray introduce us.”

  Jamie grinned. “Yes, this is another cousin—Miss Amanda North, Melissa’s older sister. Mandy, this is Sir Henry Fitzgibbon of Fulsom Hall, which lies at the northern end of the village.”

  Mandy extended her hand to Henry. “I’m delighted to meet you, Sir Henry.”

  Henry grasped her gloved fingers and bowed over them. “The pleasure is mine, Miss North.” He released her and waved to the gentlemen flanking him. “Allow me to present my chums. Viscount Dagenham.”

  The dark-haired gentleman standing on Henry’s right dragged his pale-gray gaze from Melissa and bowed to Mandy. “A pleasure, Miss North.”

  Mandy bobbed a curtsy. “My lord.”

  Henry waved at the tall gentleman on his left. “This is Mr. Thomas Kilburn. And beyond him is Roger Carnaby, and the last in line there is George Wiley.”

  Bows and greetings were exchanged, with Henry adding, “Roger missed the festivities last year, so he and Miss Melissa haven’t met, either.”

  Jamie performed the required introductions, and Melissa shifted her attention from Dagenham long enough to bestow a smile on Roger.

  The next five minutes went in learning what everyone had been up to since their last encounter the previous year. “Fun and games, that was,” Henry reminisced with a fond smile. “Searching high and low for that blasted book of carols, but we triumphed and found it in time.” He focused on Jamie, then glanced at George, Lottie, Melissa, and Mandy. “I say, you don’t have a hunt on these holidays, do you?”

  Jamie looked smug. “As a matter of fact…” Then he grinned and, with interjections from George and Lottie, related their discovery of the strange, old, probably Roman coins in the jars of pennies collected for the plum puddings.

  “Plum puddings?” Thomas looked puzzled.

  Henry explained about Lady Osbaldestone’s offer to supply plum puddings for the entire village. “So we all chipped in our spare pennies for the good-luck tokens.”

  “They were collected in two jars,” Melissa said. “One in the Arms, the other in Mountjoy’s Store.”

  “Reverend Colebatch thinks that the coins are Roman,” Jamie said, “and he’s written to a friend of his—a professor of antiquities in Oxford.”

  “He—the reverend—thinks the professor will come to see the coins and will want to know where they came from,” Lottie said, “so that’s what we’re trying to find out.”

  Jamie explained their current tack of trying to learn who put the coins in the jars by asking if anyone in the village remembered doing so or even remembered handling strange coins.

  “If we can find out who put the coins into the jars,” Melissa added, “hopefully, they’ll be able to tell us where they got the coins.”

  Henry and his friends exchanged eager glances, then Henry turned to Jamie and the others. “It sounds as if you’ve another quest on your plate, and as usual, we’re at loose ends. Can we help?”

  Jamie exchanged a swift glance with his siblings and cousins, then smiled brightly at Henry. “I can’t see why not—the more the merrier.”

  Henry clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. So—what’s our plan?”

  Jamie and Melissa related the outcome of their discussion with Mrs. Mountjoy. “So that’s Mountjoy’s Store covered.” Jamie swung to look down the lane. “We were just on our way to ask at the Arms.”

  “Good-oh!” Henry waved onward. “We’ll all come and lend our weight.”

  It was midmorning when their company, now ten strong, pushed through the door of the Cockspur Arms. Ginger Whitesheaf was polishing tables while her brothers, Cam and Rory, were wiping and stacking glasses and mugs behind the long bar.

  All three Whitesheafs smiled on seeing Henry, Jamie, George, and Lottie and nodded politely to Melissa and Mandy as well as the four visiting gentlemen.

  “Good morning, Ginger,” Henry said.

  “Sir Henry.” Ginger nodded to Jamie. “Your lordship. What can we do for you today?”

  Jamie glanced into the tap. There were two old men playing a board game by the fireplace, but no one else. “We came to ask,” Jamie said, “if you know of anyone who mentioned odd coins that they put into the jar of silver pennies.”

  Ginger’s brow furrowed. “Odd coins?”

  They explained, and Mandy drew out her handkerchief and showed off the coins, to the immediate interest of Henry and his friends as well as Cam and Rory. Mandy finally laid the lawn square and the coins on the bar counter so everyone could poke and prod and examine the three worn silver discs.

  “Well, I never.” Eventually, Cam straightened. “But to answer your question, I haven’t heard anyone mention odd coins—not in any way.”

  “Nor me.” Rory stepped back as well. “But we can ask everyone who comes in.” He nodded toward the far end of the counter. “The jar was down there, by the till. Easy enough to ask every time someone pays.”

  “Let me speak with the pair by the fireplace.” Ginger crossed to the table before the hearth, but the men shook their heads, and she came back shaking hers. “They haven’t had any odd coins, and they haven’t heard of anyone who has.”

  Jamie explained that it might be a week before the professor from Oxford arrived. “We thought if you and the Mountjoys can ask everyone who comes in over the next week, there’s a decent chance we’ll find whoever had these coins.”

  The Whitesheafs agreed. “I’ll tell Ma and Pa,” Rory said, “but they’re not in much these days. It’s usually the three of us run the place now.”

  The group nodded, and Jamie thanked the Whitesheafs.

  While Mandy picked up the coins and her handkerchief, Henry looked at the others. “So what’s next? Shall we sit and discuss whether there’s anything else we can do?”

  All were in favor. Henry called for jugs of mulled cider and water and ten mugs, and they repaired to a long table by the window.

  Once they’d all settled about the long board, Mandy spread her handkerchief and the coins in the middle of the scarred surface, then Ginger arrived, balancing a tray with the requested jugs and mugs. Henry poured, watering down the cider for the younger children, and passed around the mugs.

  The group sipped and stared at the coins.

  Dagenham had squired Melissa to the far end of the table. She’d sat on the bench beneath the window, and he’d drawn up a chair to the table’s end, by her elbow. They’d accepted mugs of cider and had sipped. Now, his voice low, Dagenham asked, “Will you
be here for long?”

  Melissa met his gaze. “Until the twenty-second. Apparently, the carol service is on the twenty-first—we leave for Northamptonshire the morning after.”

  Their muted conversation and their focus on each other served to cocoon them from the rest of the company, but George and Lottie noticed and exchanged a knowing look, then George reached out and tapped one of the old coins. “Is there any other way we might learn who had these?”

  The others frowned, then Thomas asked, “Is it possible to determine which of the two jars the coins were in?”

  Jamie explained what they’d done in emptying the jars to clean the coins. “So no, we can’t even guess.”

  “Actually,” Mandy said, “I can’t remember there being any way to tell the jars apart—they were identical, weren’t they?”

  Jamie, George, and Lottie agreed.

  George Wiley, sitting opposite Lottie, humphed. “What about how far down in the jars the old coins were? That might give us some idea of when they were added.”

  After a moment of thinking, Jamie glanced at George, then at Mandy, seated opposite. “I tipped up one jar, then the other.”

  “But,” George said, “the coins were right at the bottom of the combined pile—they were among the very last coins cleaned.”

  Mandy nodded. “Which means”—she mimicked upending a jar on the table—“that these three coins were close to the top of the first jar you emptied.”

  “So the coins were high in one of the jars.” George Wiley leaned forward. “That means they were put into the jar only a little while before the jar was collected.”

  “When were the jars taken to the manor?” Henry asked.

  Jamie didn’t know, but George piped up, “I heard Crimmins say he’d picked them up on Monday afternoon.”

  “Right, then.” Henry rubbed his hands together. “So most likely the coins were put into the jar on Sunday or Monday—but the Arms doesn’t open until noon on Monday, so there wouldn’t have been much time then.”