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inn to its full potential. Somewhat to her surprise, the challenge filled her with real zeal—something she certainly hadn’t expected.
    “Ooh—this is nice.” Gertrude, Gert to the family, came into the room. Beatrice, Bea, followed at her heels, likewise round-eyed, exploring and noting.
    Henry trooped in behind the twins; Issy, in a check apron and wiping her hands on a cloth, followed.
    “Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” Issy announced with some pride. She glanced at Em. “It’s quite a well-set-out kitchen, once I unearthed the pots and pans. Someone had put them in the root cellar.” She tilted her head. “Have you any ideas about kitchen help?”
    Straightening from the windowsill, Em nodded. “Edgar’s told me who used to work here as cook and the helpers she had. They’re all locals, and likely still available, if we want them, which I said we do.” She fixed Issy with a firm gaze. “I’ll be glad of your help with the menus and the ordering, once I learn where to order from, but I don’t want you cooking, only in emergencies.” Issy opened her mouth; Em held up a staying hand. “Yes, I know you don’t mind, but I didn’t get you out of Uncle Harold’s kitchen just to install you in another.”
    She let her gaze sweep over the others’ faces. “We all know why we’re here.”
    “To find the treasure!” Bea promptly piped.
    Leaning back, Em grasped the latch and pulled the window shut; the twins’ high-pitched voices carried, and no one else presently needed to know their reason for being in Colyton. “Yes.” She nodded decisively. “We’re going to find the treasure, but we are also going to live normal lives.”
    She regarded the twins, not entirely mock-severely; she knew their propensities all too well. “We’ve spoken of this before, but Susan sadly neglected your education. You cannot be Papa’s daughters and not have the basics of a gentlewoman’s upbringing. Issy, Henry, and I had governesses to teach us. You can’t at the moment have a governess, but Issy—and I’ll help when I can—can at least start you off with your lessons.”
    The twins exchanged glances—never a good sign—but then they looked at Em and dutifully nodded. “All right,” they chorused, “we’ll try them and see.”
    There would be no “seeing,” but Em left that battle for later. Issy, with whom she’d spent many hours discussing the twins’ lack, nodded in quietly determined agreement.
    Although they were all Colytons, all children of their father, the twins were the product of Reginald Colyton’s second marriage. While Susan, the twins’ mother, had been a lovely person, one Em, Issy, and Henry had taken to their hearts, her background hadn’t been the equivalent of theirs. That hadn’t mattered while their father had been alive, but after he died, when the twins were just two years old, the family had been separated. Harold Potheridge had been named Em’s, Issy’s, and Henry’s principal guardian, and had taken them to his home, Runcorn Manor in Leicestershire, while the twins, naturally, had remained with Susan in York.
    Although Em and Issy had corresponded regularly with Susan, and her letters in reply had always been cheery, after she’d died and the twins, orphans at nine, had appeared unannounced on Harold’s doorstep, Em and Issy had learned enough from the innocent pair to realize that all had not gone as they’d thought—been led to believe—with Susan.
    Certainly the marriage she’d told them of hadn’t occurred.
    And the twins had received no education whatever.
    Em was determined to rectify that last, and luckily the twins were Colytons—they were quick and bright and learned quite well, when they could be convinced to apply themselves.
    Unfortunately, as they were also Colytons in the sense of preferring exploring to all else, getting them to concentrate on lessons wasn’t an easy task.
    Em looked at Henry. He was never such a trial. He loved