Cassolette Read online

  "Interesting theory," Jaye admitted, but she wasn't convinced. "How did they plan to recover the treasure when they returned?" she asked. "How would they remember exactly where to dig?"

  "That's what I believe the inscribed stone was for," Scott answered, adding more sugar to his coffee. "It held the key to exactly where to reach the treasure from above ground. Then it would be a simple matter to just dig down for twenty feet or so and eureka, there it is!"

  Just then a large orange cat named Reilly, who had been fixing Jaye with a baleful eye, approached her cautiously, his tail like a flagpole. "Well, hello there, friend," she murmured and patted her lap in invitation. "Ah, to be a cat," Scott remarked with a grin, then went on with his theory. He explained that after digging the main shaft and the tunnel to house the treasure, another tunnel was dug in the opposite direction all the way out to Pendle Bay. "That was the so-called flood tunnel, and when the diggers reached the water, a natural flooding feature would be immediately in place."

  "So as soon as the main treasure shaft was excavated to a certain depth, the water from the flood tunnel came rushing in," Jaye said thoughtfully.

  Scott nodded and brushed cake crumbs off his dark trousers. "Of course, a coffer dam would have to have been built before the operation began. And once that was removed, voila, the trap was well and truly set."

  "I believe that the remains of an old wooden structure were found by the first treasure hunters," Jaye remarked. "They thought it was a wharf, but it could just as easily have been an ancient cofferdam."

  "That's right," Scott agreed, running his hands over his shaved head while tipping back dangerously in his chair.

  As she was leaving Jaye remarked again on how delicious the pound cake was. "My compliments to your housekeeper," she said. Not being proficient in the kitchen herself, she had a deep admiration for those who were. "Her name's Alice," Scott said. "Alice Biggs." "Biggs?" The name rang a bell immediately. It was a Sadie Biggs who had

  been flogged by order of Judge Absalom Percy. "Yes, Sadie was Alice's ancestor." Scott nodded. "I can see that you've really been doing your homework about the area and its history." * * * Angus dropped by with Ben just as Jaye was having lunch on the sun porch,

  and she had invited him to stay. "If Scott is right," Jaye said, "then going the cofferdam route would be a

  waste of money." "Och, it's just another theory," Angus argued. "And once the flooding feature has been stopped, we will be able to get right down the main shaft and see for ourselves if there is another tunnel or not."

  "If only we could find that inscribed stone," Jaye mused. "For if Scott is correct, it could lead us to the exact spot to dig, thereby bypassing the flooding feature in the main shaft."

  "That stone has been missing for well over a century," Angus reminded her. "It's unlikely that it's going to suddenly re-appear now. And even if it did, who's to say that the weird lettering on it could be deciphered any better now, than it was when it was first discovered?"

  "I think our code busting techniques are far more sophisticated today, what with computer technology and all the expertise learned during the world wars, etcetera," Jaye insisted. Then, she added more to herself than to Angus, "I wonder where Nathaniel York hid it?"

  "This is excellent soup," he commented while slurping an overloaded spoonful into his mouth. "Did you make it yourself, lassie?"

  Jaye laughed and set a bowl of water down for the dog. She hated to disillusion her impromptu guest by admitting that it was out of a can.

  "I hope this doesn't mean that you've changed your mind about the cofferdam?" Angus said balefully. "I've had my mind fairly set on that and no mistake." * * * "And have you?" Chris asked, his face so close that she could see the pores. They were lying in Judge Percy's four-poster bed on a muggy evening that resonated with the chatter of crickets.

  "I haven't quite decided yet," Jaye hedged, loath to commit herself either way. On the one hand, she felt that the cofferdam route would be decisive although prohibitively expensive. While the other option, digging without the guidance of the stone, was cheaper but definitely more of a long shot.

  "You could end up removing most of the topsoil on the island down to twenty or thirty feet," Chris suggested, "and still not find what you're looking for."

  "It's the environmental destruction that concerns me," she admitted. "Heavy earth-moving equipment like that would just devastate everything. And Bell Island is such a pretty green place."

  Chris had been in such a haste to have her, that he hadn't even given her a chance to remove her panties. Instead, he had simply wrenched them to one side and entered her without finesse, steely hard and suppurating with pre-ejaculatory cum.

  They hadn't made love in a couple of weeks. Chris had been away on an acquisition-seeking trip for the Museum, and the subsequent build-up and strain for Jaye had been enormous.

  "Oh yes…yes…" Jaye had moaned, squirming her bottom like an eel to meet his frantic movements.

  It was all over in a couple of minutes. But now, with the initial sense of urgency passed, they could enjoy each other at leisure.

  Chris was becoming a more adept lover all the time, and it excited Jaye to know that she was the catalyst of this erotic metamorphosis, this desire to experiment a way to compensate for his many years in a sexual wilderness.

  If Judge Absalom Percy could only see us now, she mused wickedly. Not only cavorting around naked under his roof, but in his very own bed as well. His Honor would surely order them flogged within an inch of their licentious lives. And the thought of this turned her on quite furiously. She whispered her fantasy to Chris, who had just entered her for the third time, and it captured his imagination as well. "But what can we use as a switch?" he asked, seemingly reluctant to withdraw his cock even for a moment.

  "The cord from the bed curtains," Jaye replied with a conspiratorial wink. "The knots and tassels on the ends will make for fine sport."

  "The Judge would most certainly have us spanked for this," Chris laughed. "Desecrating his bed for lascivious pursuits."

  Jaye was slippery and swollen with sweat and love secretions, her nerve endings wired with excitement. She lay face down on the bed and grasped the headboard for support. "Don't be afraid to lay it on hard," she murmured. "I don't break."

  Chris stood beside the bed and wielded the cord as she had instructed. He whipped her bottom and the back of her thighs until they flushed scarlet under the steady pummeling.

  In that moment, Jaye realized the truth about pain and pleasure being inextricably linked. She dreaded the next stroke, yet desired it above all else. She flexed her toes and felt the fiery orgasm pinch at her womb and tense it. Then, without any stimulation of her genitals, she erupted effortlessly, her well-spanked bottom heaving and clenching in the throes of her grand passion. * * * "I found it buried in the underbrush near Pendle Bay," Angus said, his bulbous eyes fairly burning with excitement. "Ben was digging for a gopher and there it was, so caked with soil that I almost missed it."

  He held in his outstretched palm a tarnished old coin encrusted with dirt and warped at the edges. "I didn't try to clean it up. Thought I'd better leave that job for the experts." "Quite right," Jaye agreed. "Chris will know who can restore it safely." It turned out to be a gold guinea from the reign of King George the Third. Upon hearing the news, Angus paled visibly and his hand trembled. This was clearly not the period he had hoped the coin would be from.

  "I'm afraid the date was indecipherable," Chris explained, weighing the coin in his hand before setting it down by the sugar bowl.

  It was long after closing time on a moody August evening, and the rays of a sinking sun dappled the Museum's teashop.

  "More coffee anyone?" Jaye asked, topping up their cups from the steaming glass carafe. Then she refilled Ben's water bowl and gave him a biscuit.

  "Question is, does this find have anything to do with the treasure?" Angus pondered moodily, speaking for the first time since the coin's identifica
tion. "I mean the workings in the old shaft have been carbon dated back to the sixteenth century, and that spelled Spain to me and the gold they stole from the Incas."

  He buttered a scone carefully and added a dollop of jam. "But George Third, we're talking at least one hundred years later."

  Chris nodded. "The only thing we can say with certainty is that it was minted prior to 1816. Because that's when the guinea was discontinued and replaced by the sovereign."

  "It could have been lost by one of the early diggers?" Jaye suggested. "Dropped out of his pocket or pouch, or wherever they kept their money then."

  "Or, it could mean that the Spanish-Inca theory is wrong after all, and that the treasure dates from a much later period," Angus said gravely, refusing to be placated. Jaye noticed that same look of wariness cross his face that had been so evident on a former occasion, that had been the time when they had been discussing theories regarding the origin of the treasure pit. Angus had insisted that Adelaide shared his views regarding the Spanish Inca connection, but his body language when he had said this had indicated otherwise. Why was the discovery of this coin so upsetting him?

  "He clearly wanted it to be much older," Chris said, as he and Jaye strolled along a moonlit beach. "In order to substantiate his own theory."

  "But if the diggings only date back to the seventeen-hundreds, who would have had a treasure so vast that it warranted that amount of trouble?" Jaye asked, squinting up at him and clutching his hand in both of hers. "And why?"

  "It would likely have belonged to a government," Chris answered carefully. "Private fortunes rarely went that high."

  "And it wasn't likely to be pirates at that late date," Jaye interjected. "And by that I mean the swashbuckling sort with eye patch and peg leg."

  "But pirates come in all guises," Chris stated enigmatically. However, when she pressed him to elaborate, he declined. "Let's just say that you're not the only one to be going through a pile of old papers at the moment." Jaye knew he made reference to Adelaide's mountain of unsorted documents that Jaye had been plowing through with dogged determination. "And I don't want to say anymore until I'm absolutely certain."

  But it was Jaye herself who made a startling discovery as she was rifling through her aunt's papers the following day. The stack of correspondence had fallen in behind an overflowing bureau drawer and was held together with an elastic band.

  Along with several letters that Adelaide had exchanged with a librarian in England, there was also a genealogy chart penned in her aunt's own handwriting.

  "Based on the information you have so kindly provided me with," wrote Adelaide. "I am convinced that British gold lies buried on Bell Island. The lineage of the Percy family ties in with this theory." * * * She had caught him just as he was preparing to take Ben out for his afternoon walk. The one room shack that squatted haphazardly amid a tangle of triumphant weeds was surprisingly clean and tidy on the inside.

  "You deliberately lied to me about Adelaide sharing your views on the origin of the treasure," Jaye fumed, tossing the telling letters at Angus. "Why?"

  Angus blanched when he saw the letters and sat down heavily at the kitchen table.

  "Pull up a chair, lassie," he invited in somber tones. "I'll make us a pot of tea."

  Jaye patted the dog, his heavy fur still damp from the swim he had taken earlier that day.

  "The truth of the matter is," Angus began as he set out the teacups. "I was that afraid that if you knew Adelaide's opinion on the treasure differed from mine, that you might not go ahead with the plans for the cofferdam."

  "But that doesn't make sense," Jaye protested. "So long as there is a treasure, what difference does it make what it is, or who put it there?" She took a quick sip at the scalding tea and added a teaspoonful of sugar. "No Angus, I believe you withheld the truth from me, because you knew that Adelaide's theory holds the distinct possibility that the treasure is no longer there." * * * "The old rogue should be ashamed of himself," Chris declared. "Not being

  truthful about something this important is unforgivable." "I'll say, millions of dollars are at stake," Jaye agreed. "Yes, but it's your money, not his. Or you can bet he would have been more

  forthcoming." The Museum had emptied out of patrons some time ago and they were relaxing in the main lounge under the disapproving eye of Judge Absalom Percy, who glared down at them from a portrait above the fireplace.

  "I never thought that the Judge would figure so prominently in this," Jaye admitted. "It seems he was something of a dark horse as well as a stern disciplinarian."

  "What made Adelaide veer away from the Inca gold theory?" Chris asked, ignoring her remark. "For she surely bought into it originally."

  "Not quite as much as one might believe," Jaye replied thoughtfully. "Judging by the letters she wrote, she was always uncomfortable with the dating involved. There was the fact that the depression in the ground above the treasure pit was still so visible when Nathaniel York happened upon it. Remember, if the Inca theory was correct, that would mean it had remained thus for over two hundred years. Is that likely? I mean, wouldn't nature have reclaimed all signs of the digging by then?"

  Seeing holes in this particular theory, Adelaide had searched around for other great sources of wealth, but from a later date. That was when, Jaye told Chris, she had discovered the British connection in the American War of Independence.

  As the war drew to a close, the British garrison in New York was under constant attack. The post contained millions of pounds in gold, used to pay troops and purchase supplies. To prevent this treasury from falling into the hands of the enemy, they had it smuggled out by a small squadron of soldiers with orders to take it to their nearest secure base at Halifax. But it never arrived. In fact, the six men involved were never seen again.

  But what had made Adelaide really sit up and take notice was the name of the officer in charge: One Major Richard Percy. Could he be any relation to the family of Percys so prominent in Pendle Harbor affairs? Judge Absalom Percy being the most famous or infamous, however one regarded it, amongst them?

  She had done her homework, working tirelessly through dusty volumes of genealogical records until at last her efforts were rewarded. And Adelaide could say with utter certainty that Major Richard Percy was none other than Judge Absalom Percy's grandfather.

  "So she surmised that the British gold ended up on Bell Island, and that the Percys soon followed it out here," Jaye said, noticing how incredibly sexy Chris looked in the dimly lit room which had grown dark as they sat there chatting about events long past.

  He whistled when she finished speaking, his eyes luminous in the half-light. "I also came across a mention of the missing British gold from New York," he told her."In a folio of old papers that were included in a recent estate sale."

  The papers had been in the possession of a Mrs.Martha Wilks, a direct descendent of the Judge. "So the family were certainly aware of the missing money and spent their lives within the shadow of Bell Island," Chris concluded.

  "It's probably safe to say that it was this money that made them wealthy in the first place," Jaye said. "But how much of it? And how much was buried on the island? And were they able to retrieve it? Or is it still there?"

  There is a certain enchantment about a room at dusk, Jaye decided, before the lamps are lit, a sort of primordial energy that stirs the blood. "Come here," Jaye whispered to Chris. When he joined her on the couch, she kissed him deeply while pressing her

  aching body against his. They were comfortable enough with each other now to require no words, or even extensive foreplay. Just a tacit understanding of need that drew them together with searching mouths and exploring hands. They wasted no time on the preliminaries.

  "Ah, that's good…" she moaned, wiggling out of her slacks and pulling him down on top of her. They moved in perfect unison, with the hard pulsing feel of his cock butting against the walls of her cunt until that electric moment that out surpasses all others was reached.

 
Then Chris did something that Jaye found extremely erotic. He dabbed at her wet swollen genitals with his clean white handkerchief, and slipped it back in his pocket to enjoy her cassolette while they were apart.

  Would Guy do something like that? Jaye wondered, then was immediately angry with herself for the thought. Why couldn't she get that man out of her mind? He fucked me on a train, that's all, she told herself. Yet every time she had a sexual encounter, he rose like a spectre, albeit a dark and very handsome one, to haunt her. * * * "According to the British gold theory," Angus stated angrily, his face ruddier than usual, "it would have to have been buried on the island just twelve years before Nathaniel York discovered the treasure pit."

  He topped up his teacup from the sturdy Brown Betty that had once belonged to Adelaide, and stretched his short legs under the sun porch table.

  "And why is there a problem with that?" Jaye asked, flicking a moth away from her face. It was dusk, after another sweltering day, and not as much as a breath of wind stirred the trees.

  "Because by York's own account, the clearing and the indentation in the ground looked as if they had been there for a very long time."

  "I don't think that would be too easy to judge," Jaye argued. "After all, what is the criteria? How would the clearing have looked after two years as compared to two hundred? Nathaniel York was not an expert in horticulture nor an arborist."

  "York had lived in the country all his life," Angus retorted. "He was as well qualified as most to distinguish an old clearing from a relatively new one."

  Jaye stirred her tea and bit down moodily on a biscuit. It was useless to try and talk sense to Angus, who was hell-bent on pushing the Inca gold theory and getting his own way vis-à-vis the cofferdam.