softly on the door.
“Come in,” she said quietly.
Mckella had two bottles of ale with her, and passed Natalie one as she sat down next to her. They clinked bottles together and smiled. “To friendship,” they said together and took a long drink. Natalie indicated the drawing she had been studying and asked, “Why was this included with the letters, do you suppose?”
Mckella considered the question. “Well, it was drawn many years after those letters were written, I can tell you that. Maria Sibylla Merian was much too young to have been contemporaries with Milton. She was only three in 1650, in fact.” She took another swallow of ale. “But I think they must be related somehow.”
“I think so too,” agreed Natalie, “but how?” They gazed at the beautiful flower in silence for a few moments. “It’s odd.”
“What is?” asked Mckella.
“It reminds me of the carving on the panel we found in Uncle Richard’s library, and also the ones on the portfolio that the manuscript was in. There’s something about the style of the flowers. They’re almost freakish. They all have this …” she struggled for a fitting word, “alien quality,” she finished.
“Well, you would know,” Mckella replied. “You’ve always had some leaf or flower petal under a magnifying glass; but it’s probably just the artist exerting creative license.”
“Wouldn’t that indicate that the carving, the portfolio, and this drawing were all done by the same artist?” Natalie asked.
“It’s possible,” Mckella said doubtfully, “but I never heard that Merian did any carvings in wood, let alone leather.”
“There must be something …” Natalie muttered distractedly.
Just then, Mckella’s father burst into the room. “We have to get out of the house at once!” he said urgently. “Your uncle and brother have already left in the Range Rover. I told them we’d meet at Cambridge Airport. Gather your things and come with me.”
The tension in his voice spurred them to immediate action. Natalie and Mckella jumped up, grabbing nothing but their coats and bags. Natalie hastily replaced the engraving and made sure the keys and the Hawthorne book were tucked deep down in her satchel. They didn’t speak until they were packed into Mckella’s Mini, speeding down the driveway.
Randy gripped the steering wheel tightly with a grim expression on his face. Mckella observed her father with some alarm. She had never seen him look so stressed. Randy Edwards had always been a quiet and calm presence in her life; to see him in his present state was highly unnerving. “Father,” she touched his arm gently, “what’s going on?”
“Julien got a phone call a few minutes ago, from a boy named Seth.” He glanced in the rear-view mirror at Natalie. “I trust you know him?” he asked.
“Yes, we met him this morning. Is he all right?”
“I can only hope so,” Randy answered grimly. “Julien didn’t tell me everything, just that Seth called him and told him that you were in serious danger, that the men you saw this afternoon were at the Radcliffe Camera looking for you, and now they know where you are.” He looked somberly at his daughter. “Julien said the line went dead while he was speaking with the boy.”
Natalie’s throat was tight as she asked him, “Then why are we going to Cambridge Airport? We must return to Oxford!”
“These men seem very determined to get at your family,” he replied. “Your uncle said he’s taking you all to Paris, and I agree with him. Mckella and I will find out what’s going on with Seth Conley.”
Natalie nodded mutely and stared out the window miserably. She couldn’t bear it if that boy who had been so doggedly devoted to her uncle got hurt on their account, and wished she hadn’t been so angry at him, when he had only been trying to help her family.
Unaware of the direction her thoughts were taking, Randy continued talking about their present plans. “I suggested to your uncle that he not take an obvious route to France. Since it’s clear that you can’t go by way of the Channel Tunnel or use any major airlines, I suggested flying you myself.”
“Oh, father!” Mckella cried. “That is an excellent idea!”
“If these men used surveillance on your uncle Richard,” Randy continued, “the same could be said for you. Our location can easily be ascertained if our pursuers have certain technology at their disposal. In fact, I suggest you get rid of your cell phones at once. I’m certain that’s how you were located at our house so quickly.”
Natalie and Mckella immediately rummaged in their satchels and chucked their phones out the window, and Randy did the same. He was an security consultant for high tech companies, and the girls supposed he knew what he was talking about.
“When we reach the airport,” Randy went on, “I’ll fly you and your family to Calais. There’s a small airport there.” He shook his head helplessly. “After that … I don’t know.”
“Thank you, Mr. Edwards,” Natalie said in a small voice, “for everything.”
“I only wish I could do more,” he said sympathetically.
They drove through the fog in worried silence. When they reached Cambridge Airport, Randy passed through the entrance and drove directly to a sleek-looking Gulfstream. He looked a little embarrassed. “I share this with my business partner,” he explained to Natalie. Randy secretly felt that owning a private plane was ostentatious, but it sure came in handy at times.
While he prepared his plane for flight, Natalie waited nervously on the tarmac for her uncle and brother to arrive. She paced around fretfully, worried they may have run into trouble along the way. But soon, the lights of the Range Rover came into view.
Calvin jumped out of the driver’s seat and handed the keys to Randy. “I sure wish I had one of these,” he smiled. “It would be awesome on the African Plains.”
“A very useful automobile,” Uncle Julien replied with approval as he emerged from the passenger side. “Not at all like those toys our girls insist upon having.”
“If everyone is ready, I think we can take off now,” Randy said. “I’ve gotten permission from the tower.” He led them up the short flight of steps and into the passenger jet. “Please get settled in and buckled up. Mckella knows the drill. After we hit cruising altitude you can move about the cabin.” With those instructions, he disappeared into the cockpit.
The jet’s engines roared to life, and they taxied down the runway into the starry night.
~
Once the plane was well on its way, everyone settled down and Mckella offered them each a glass of wine to calm their overwrought nerves. “I’ll bring father some tea and keep him company for a bit,” she said, and joined him in the cockpit.
“I must say I’m glad we didn’t have to use the Chunnel.” Calvin shuddered, using the nickname for the tunnel which crossed the English Channel. “I hate going under the ocean. It’s even more unnatural than flying, if you ask me.”
Natalie smiled fondly at
