2
3 Months later 1828
Johanna Mary Hartford was breaking all the rules for a ten and seven-year-old young lady not to mention the rules for a Dukes daughter. She was running bare feet across the lush green grass of spring. Her skirts hiked up to her knees totally unrespectable but was loving each minute of her last few weeks of freedom. At the beginning of May, she would no longer be running through the grass but gracefully gliding across the dancefloors of the finest families in London. She was going to enjoy each day of freedom until the time her brother sold her to the highest bidder. Jo knew she was being over dramatic but after all her brother who had recently gotten married told her she needed to find herself a husband for him to keep the peace with his bride.
She laughed at the term bride Wilma was no bride except in her head. They had been married over two years ago just before the death of her beloved father making Wilma anything but a bride. It was no secret Wilma and Jo did not get along at all and living in the same house was purgatory to say the least. Now that she was of an age, she was expected by Wilma not her brother Luther who was one of the kindest men she knew and wanted her to marry for love something he had not been able to do. His had been an arranged marriage to a beautiful young woman who had a very sour disposition. Jo was sure she ate lemons each day before coming downstairs to start her day she was so sour.
Upon reaching the bank of the water Jo stopped suddenly and looked around to see who was there to see her unladylike decorum. But there was no one but her at the bank where every day Jo like to come and read or sing at the top of her lungs She did this in private because she was awful at it she couldn't sing on key to save her life and she knew it. She could play the harp better than a professional but sing not to save her soul. She shook the thoughts of singing out of her head and tried to figure out why her blanket was laid out already, there was a basket of food a very old book laying on the blanket just like she liked it when she came here.
Jo looked around to see who had done all this but no one was there. After twenty minutes of looking for anyone she gave up and accepted the kind gesture to enjoy it. She started to nibble at the grapes and the cheese that been left and picked up the old book. The book had no title, it seemed worn and weather logged. She started to flip the pages and started to read. It did not take her long to realize that it was someone's personal book of poems they had written. They were extremely dark, and not to Jo's taste but someone honored her with sharing their thoughts and feelings with her she would not insult them by just putting it down and disregard them.
Jo had spent the afternoon reading the pomes and was now close to the end of the book and found cut into the last fifty pages were hollowed out and stuck together. Inside the area was a folding skeleton key and, on the page, across from the key on the page was a family crest. It was not one Jo was familiar with she would have to investigate and see if she could find the writer of these pomes. She picked up the key and found that there was a separate piece of paper not a part of the book. She removed it and found a note to her. If that was not odd enough the note was created out of cut pieces of book pages glued to the note. She read it to herself then out loud because it really did not make sense to her.
"Lady Hartford,
Take this Key and solve the mystery of days of yore and tell the world of an unwilling offering of purity and life, Justice denied." "I have no idea what they mean but I am always up for a good mystery I will just have to find out everything I can about this Key."