Page 56 of An Unlikely Knight

Erin jumped to her feet. “I’ll be right back. I remembered something.”

Once in her bedroom, she opened the wardrobe door and reached up and pulled a small weathered box that she’d had since just before her paternal grandmother’s passing. For some reason her grandmother had insisted Erin keep it, telling her one day one of the items within would come in handy.

Already ill, her grandmother had asked to speak to both Erin and Aubrey. She’d instructed them to get the box from under her bed. Then she’d told them to guard the contents, that one day something in the box could save them.

Gone were the days of spending time with their exuberant grandmother who took them on holidays, extravagant parties at beautiful locations. A vibrant woman, with not only a great sense of style, but quite the beauty, she was always on invite lists.

She’d died soon after that day, when giving them the box. Aubrey had insisted Erin take it and they’d one day open it together. But time had passed, and they’d put it off. Perhaps too afraid to revisit the raw with grief of her passing.

Returning to the front room, she sat and held the box in her lap. “I’m sure there is nothing in here like a dagger. My grandmother gave Aubrey and I this box and I’ve never looked inside. I suppose this is the time to see whatever she insisted I needed to have.”

While the others looked on, she untied the ribbon that was wrapped around the box, the soft fabric sliding from her fingers. Lifting the top off the dilapidated container, her eyes widened. There was a neatly tied stack of one-hundred-pound notes.

“That would have been nice to have while I was at university,” she quipped.

There was a small framed picture of her grandparents. Both looked to be younger than her own twenty-eight years. The young couple held hands and gazed shyly at each other. Not wanting to get emotional, she put it on the seat next to the money.

“Looks as if the rest are letters and ... oh a fan, a handkerchief and ...” Erin lifted the items and gasped. Under everything was a small sheathed dagger, its intricately designed golden handle inscribed with the initials ETM, Her grandmother’s initials.

Edwina Therese Macguire.

Why had her grandmother owned a dagger? That wasn’t something Erin would have ever guessed. Why in the world had she required one?

When she lifted it from the box, the others exchanged looks. Tammie beamed. “You are the key. You will save them all.”

Erin swallowed. “Oh goodness.”