Chapter 2: Formal Curiosity

I poked my head into the back room of the stables, where the young stable boy could usually be found whittling a piece of wood he'd found behind the estate. "Jamie?"

Wood shavings covered an area of the floor, but the room itself was devoid of human presence. I shrugged lightly, putting the question of where he was aside and hanging up my riding gloves.

"I saw the two of you returning and wanted a word with you," said a voice behind me.

I started and turned around, seeing Professor Moriarty leaning comfortably against the wall, fingering something inside his pocket. "I hope it was not a requirement for Ariana to be present, as she has already returned to the house." I kept my voice measured and perfectly cool, hoping to make the point that I did not like the looks of this man.

He waved a hand in dismissal. "I can speak to her later. But right now..." He trailed off, cocking his head at me.

I sat down on the bench, changing back out of my boots, but I kept my eyes fixed on him. "Why must you speak to me alone? What could this possibly be about?"

He opened his mouth partway, hesitating before speech. "I would like to tell you that you put on a very good show this afternoon, pretending you did not realize I was there as an excuse to be introduced."

I froze in the act of buttoning my left shoe. After a moment's pause I slipped the button the rest of the way through the small hole and stood up. "Was it honestly that obvious?"

Moriarty half smiled. It could more appropriately be called a smirk. "Apparently not to your father."

"Is that all?" I had snatched my hat from the peg and held it expectantly. "Or are you going to reveal to me how you knew I was pretending?"

His dark eyes languidly traveled to all corners of the stable, but then they fixed again on me, undoubtedly monitoring my body language. "Your sister went through my coat pockets."

He did not reveal how he had known this, nor did I expect him to. "And she undoubtedly told me of your arrival."

He nodded, but said nothing. I decided to continue, taking a step closer to him. He showed no reaction.

"I know you are a professor of mathematics. And I know that you are not here on a friendly visit."

He did not flinch. "Pray continue."

I did so – gladly. "The train tickets show where you were planning to go. You weren't just riding by Thorndon and decided to stop in. You had previously bought a ticket here from Cambridge. Your visit here was very much deliberate."

He replied calmly. "I do not see anything directly wrong with my actions."

When I next spoke, I was surprised to hear how cold my tones had become. "There is the fact that you did not bother to correct my father when he said your decision was spur of the moment." I jammed my hat onto my head with alarming force. "You would, I think, find it a good idea to inform my father of the real reason for your visit, whatever that might be."

Moriarty elicited another smirk, amused, but coldly so. It was devoid of any emotion resembling humor. "Your father knows very well the reason I am here," he said. "I thought we'd established that he lied to you and your sister, by telling you this was a friendly visit."

Near the doorway, I paused. "So I was correct," I said, "in saying that it was not."

Then I turned to walk out the door.

"Tell your sister," called Moriarty after me, "that she really should stop snooping. It might get her into a lot of trouble one day."

I felt his eyes on me as I stiffly began to follow the familiar stone path towards the house, and I repressed a shiver somewhere in my spine. My clammy hands gripped the front of my dress tightly as I struggled to control my posture.

Back in the house, the entrance hall was empty, and I briefly wondered where Ariana was. I wouldn't look for her. I did not want to enrage her with an account of the conversation I'd just had until I had a little more information myself.

Struck again by how unnerved he had made me, I let out the shudder I'd repressed and bolted to the window. The pathway, and indeed the entire lawn, were devoid of human presence. Was he still out there in the stable? He must be, unless he had taken the back door and gone out towards the woods. But what on earth was he doing? I was overcome by the urge to march back out there. He simply could not go off alone on our property.

I stopped myself with my hand on the doorknob. Maybe I was uncomfortable with this concept, and I'm sure Ariana was too, but the last thing we needed was for Moriarty to know this.

Exhaling deeply, I forced myself to turn around and walk deliberately towards the library.

I bit my lip as I entered the cool room, listening carefully for any indications that Ariana was there. After easing the door closed behind me, I even called her name, just to be certain.

Satisfied with my exploration, I passed a half dozen thick and fully laden shelves on my way to the alcove I was looking for. An ebony book stand housed the thickest volume I had ever seen: a who's who compendium of each prominent family's lineage in all the British Isles. As a young child, too small to reach the top of the stand, I had only been allowed to view it as my mother held me up to gaze with wonder upon the crisp, thin pages inked delicately and updated with each census.

Even now, I approached the tome with a sort of reverence, and held my breath as I cracked the spine and leafed through the sacred pages until I reached the letter M.

I skimmed through Marshes and Maypoles and Morgans until I finally reached Moriarty. I glanced behind me to ensure that he wasn't there before beginning to read.

Dinner had been a rather quiet affair for Ariana and I, until Father and the Professor broke out of their conversation.

Father turned towards us. "James and I have some business matters to settle," he explained, "so I hope you girls wouldn't mind terribly if he occupied a guest room for a couple of nights."

Ariana and I froze.

Moriarty looked at us, then turned to Father. "If this will be a complication, Peter, I'll be more than willing to procure a room in town."

Father afforded a sharp glance at us. "That won't be necessary, James, my daughters will just need to adapt to a small adjustment in their lives."

I managed to keep a calm outward demeanor, but I could feel Ariana's fist clenching in her lap. I could sense the thought running through her mind. We've made larger adjustments before.

Ariana and I spent the rest of the meal sitting in silence. The second we were excused in order to allow the two men to speak alone, we were up and out the door.

"I don't like him." Ariana's voice was flat. "Father's never been forthcoming, but he's never lied through his teeth like this!"

"You'll like him even less when I tell you what occurred in the stables after you left." I proceeded to relay the events of my conversation with Moriarty, and his final warning.

She had been hugging her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth on my bed. When I finished, she leaped up and paced angrily to the window, muttering a barely audible string of Latin insults and curses.

My sister's eyes were filled with rage as she turned back to me. "What in the name of Bloody Mary does Father think he's doing? Can't he see past that façade?"

"I don't know, Ariana." I honestly didn't.

Ariana didn't seem to hear me, for she obliviously continued her rant.

"Ariana!" I confess that I spoke rather more harshly than I meant to.

She stopped, drawing a breath as she released the chair she'd been holding in a grip so tight I was afraid one of the two parties involved would break.

I exhaled in relief. "I realize that is excellent Latin practice, but please, keep yourself in check."

Her eyes were still blazing, but she bit her lip and nodded.

I rose from my desk chair. "All right. We need to find out more about this man. What do you propose we do?"

Her eyes had been fixed on the ground, but when I spoke this, her gaze met mine with a devious glint. "They're both downstairs, playing billiards."

I nodded, a smirk rising nearly to the surface but repressed by the lack of amusement in the situation. "To the Professor's room, it is."

Ariana shook her head. "Somehow, he knew I'd gone through his pockets. He'd surely realize at a glance if we'd been in his room."

I sighed. "So we'll have to look in Father's study."

This time, it was Ariana who nodded. "They obviously do know each other quite well, so Father must have something informative on him."

As we stole down the staircase barely a moment later, I whispered to Ariana, "I can tell you one other thing about this Professor."

"And what's that?"

"I did some looking today. His surname's Irish. It means 'warrior of the sea.'"

My twin snorted softly. "So he's Poseidon on land, is what you mean."

"The Moriarty family are also ancient Suffolk nobility."

Two steps ahead of me, Ariana abruptly stopped. "Where in Suffolk?" she asked, as though it were a scandal that she'd never been informed of this before.

"Earl Soham," I answered.

She turned her head to look at me. "That's disturbingly close to here."

Ariana was right: it was hardly even twenty miles.

I swallowed. "I know, but we should concentrate on actually making it to Father's study without being discovered." But I didn't say what I was thinking. Earl Soham was twenty miles away from Thorndon. Ariana and I had never been allowed twenty miles from home. It seemed more than probable that we had been kept from approaching Earl Soham and the Moriarty family estate. But why twenty miles all around, and not just Earl Soham? Of course. Because only specifying the town would indicate a place or certain people that Father wanted us to avoid, and not just a concern for our safety. We would be sure to question it and express a desire to visit there even more. But what could be so horrible about the Moriarty family estate that we would expressly be forbidden from approaching even the town? But none of this did I say out loud, for it had only taken a mere moment for it to pass through my mind, and Ariana was nodding at me.

"I'm walking," she assured me, and took a step as if to prove her point. Then she turned to look at me. "Aren't you coming?"

I nodded silently, still preoccupied with my thoughts, and we began walking again.

It wasn't long before we reached the first floor hallway where Father kept his study. We stopped outside the door. I paused for a moment to stare at the name painstakingly engraved into the wooden door.

Sir Peter Ashford, Esq.

I pressed my ear to the wood. No sounds came from within.

"I told you they were in the billiards room!" hissed Ariana in my ear.

I stiffened. "Shhh, that's still just down the hall!" I cautioned.

She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "All right," she said as I opened the door noiselessly.

We slipped in, and as soon as Ariana had eased the door shut, I lit the gas lamps, albeit dimly.

I crossed to his desk while Ariana knelt by one of the large boxes of old papers in the corner.

As I was opening one of the top drawers, I happened to look up at the surface of his desk. My eyes immediately fell on a piece of paper filled with my father's cramped handwriting. The name Moriarty was at the top.

My eyes widened. "Ariana..." I called softly.

She replaced a stack of files in the box and came to stand by me as I gently picked up the paper, skimming paragraphs about the man's childhood and early career until I reached a few hastily scribbled lines at the bottom, punctuated by a splash of spilled ink in the left corner.

Currently holds chair as Professor of Mathematics, University of St. Andrews, Scotland. Possesses the thought capabilities considered as normal for our family.

Ariana gasped and pointed at the line I had just read. "Our family? But could that mean..." her eyes met mine, and in her gaze I read the unfinished question.

Could that phrase actually mean what it sounded like? Were Moriarty and my father...related?

I took a shaky breath, but then shook off the feeling that I was on the verge of something huge. I took another breath, and moved to the final sentence, which warranted its own line and was underlined thickly several times:

Caution advised. Knows the family secret.

My sister and I stared at each other.

"What on earth is the 'family secret?'" asked Ariana.

I cast a nervous glance at the door. "Well, I certainly know what it must have to do with. It's overshadowed us all our lives."

"What's that?"

"The fact that you and I are Watsons, not Ashfords."