Never to Part (19 page)

“I read a great deal of Lady Laurel’s journal last eve,” the baroness said.

“But if the script was difficult?” began Daphne.

Richard watched a slight blush cover Daphne’s cheeks when she realized his mother’s ruse.
Does she regret not being able to share the information with Eldridge
, he wondered. His grip on his knife tightened to knuckle white.

“’Twas rather difficult . . . at first,” the baroness conceded.

“But we were correct. The name was there?” Daphne asked.

“We shall speak of this later, Mother,” Richard ordered.

Lady Laurissa shook her head. “The woman was Elizabeth Petworth,” she announced with obvious satisfaction.

“Mother.” Richard glowered a warning to halt.

“Her family’s lands once bordered Heart Haven,” the baroness continued with relish.

“Once did?” Daphne asked.

“They did until Lord Ricman purchased the estate after the Petworth’s fell on hard times. The remains of their house can still be seen.” The baroness turned to her son.

“You should take Daphne to see the ruins.”

“There are only ruins?” Daphne asked. “How can a visit to ruins be of any use?”

“Study the verse before you go,” Lady Laurissa urged.

Richard cleared his throat. When both women looked expectantly at him he leaned back in his chair. “Would this afternoon suffice, Miss Stratton? I have arranged to meet with my steward on estate matters this morn.”

“That would suit me very well,” she replied. “You will go with us?” Daphne asked the baroness.

“I think it best just the two of you go,” Lady Laurissa said with a smile. “I shall continue my study of the diary.”

 * * * *

Saddie hurried into Daphne’s bedchamber. She tilted her head toward the door. “He is now closeted with his steward.” She pulled a scrap of parchment from her sleeve and spread it on the bed.

“I learned the location of the Petworth’s ruins from the baroness’s abigail. Sketched it out,” she said proudly as Daphne stared down at the rough drawing.

After Saddie had explained the sketch Daphne frowned. “The distance is much too far to walk and return before lunch.”

“Aye, but I made friends with the scullery maid the day we arrived. Her brother is a groom here. He’ll have the kitchen cart waiting for you just beyond the laurel hedge.”

Daphne swiftly embraced Saddie. “You are a dear,” she said and kissed her cheek. She studied the plans for several moments. Satisfied she knew where to go Daphne picked up her pelisse.

“If anyone inquires for me tell them I have a headache and have lain down,” Daphne said putting it on.

“Aye, miss. Do you think the ruins hide the treasure?”

“I won’t know until I get there.” Daphne picked up a copy of the verse and stuffed it into a pocket.

“May the poltergeists be with me,” she quipped blithely and hurried from the bedchamber.

 * * * *

Lady Laurel nestled her head in the hollow of her husband’s shoulder as Daphne drove the kitchen cart toward the Petworth ruins. “Does this remind thee of something?”

“The broken down cart we resorted to after the coach I rented broke down.” Lord Ricman kissed her soundly.

“Father chasing after us was really a boon.” Lady Laurel wiped away her husband’s answering frown with a gentle caress.

“How can thou be so certain the gate is still there?” she asked a moment later.

“No one would dare. Not even our son defied the dictates of my will.”

Time dragged as the old cart horse plodded along despite any and all urging on Daphne’s part. Her thoughts drifted constantly to Richard but she forced them back to the verses, especially the one in her pocket. Finally the ruins loomed into view.

Daphne reined in the old cob, jumped down from the garden cart and fastened its reins to a low tree branch. A look back the way she had come showed no one yet followed. As she turned back Daphne thought she saw a flash of light. She halted and stared at the cart. A prickle of sensations floated about her. Laurel skittered in the bed of the cart. Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself Daphne chuckled nervously.

“Do the spectres really escort me? Are you here Lady Laurel?” She shivered in the silence that followed her question. Unsure whether to be embarrassed or worried she thought,
It’s best I don’t consider beings that cannot exist. ‘Tis rather . . . feels rather . . . dangerous.

Shrugging the very odd sensation aside, Daphne faced the overgrown area and surveyed the ruins. A remaining half wall, the outline of a stone foundation, and a few scattered foundation stones were all that remained of the house proper. A large tree stood in what must have been its centre. Behind it was an elongated gently rising slope.

Since the area was blanketed with tall grass and weeds from this and many past seasons, Daphne had to raise her skirt and petticoats knee high. She tromped through the tall morass, finding it took more effort than she had thought. By the time she reached the large tree amid the foundation, perspiration beaded on her brow despite the chill in the air.

Daubing her forehead dry, Daphne reread the verse. Nothing here gave the least hint of being useful to the solution of the puzzle. Putting the paper back in her pocket she tromped up to top of the rise beyond the foundation. There she saw that the land descended steeply to an open plain.

“
Wander and weep still amidst ancestral plain
,” she quoted aloud. A faint idea began to form but soon dimmed. Nothing fit the clues.

”She ‘tis ‘bout to give up,” Lord Ricman predicted from his perch in the large tree.

Below him Lady Laurel pushed away from the tree trunk.

“Let her go back,” he called after his wife. “She can discover it with Richard.”

Raising her eyes to heaven, Lady Laurel stalked away from him. “Walk along the rise, Daphne,” she urged. “Do not give up.” She picked up a handful of pebbles.

“Drat the woman,” Lord Ricman protested to the sky. He jumped down. He picked up a handful of dry soil and hurried to join his wife.

Daphne searched for anything that could possibly be connected with the verse. Then on an impulse, she walked slowly along the rise for several minutes before turning back.
Neither monster nor winged arrow in sight
. Defeat admitted, Daphne headed directly toward the cart. After taking only a few steps in that direction, a small cloud of dust hit her in the face.

Sneezing violently Daphne tried to wave the dust away. Before she had time to take in its mysterious appearance the plink thunk plink of a shower of falling pebbles followed by a thud of something heavier turned her back to the rise. “What on earth?” she wondered aloud and strode in the direction of the sounds.

With a close watch for anything that could have produced the noise, Daphne spotted a cluster of pebbles and two larger stones amid a scattering of laurel leaves. They sat on a downward sloped outcrop she had not noticed the first time she walked along the rise. Seeing the unusual marks beneath the laurel on the stone Daphne wondered aloud, “Could the outcrop be cut stone?”

Going down on one knee she brushed away the laurel, dead leaves and grass. She stared at what she recognized as chisel marks on the hewn stone surface. Excitement began to bubble up. “’Haps this be the stairs in the verse?”

Daphne rose and used the side of her boot to clear the next step. She carefully crept down until she stood on the last one.

“Now what?” she wondered as she gazed at the plain below.

The next moment something slammed into the heels of her boots. Her feet flew out from under her. Daphne fell hard.

 “Ouch,” she exclaimed. She sat stunned for a moment and then made a quick assessment. Nothing broken. But something dug painfully into her posterior. Searching beneath her derriere Daphne extracted a broken piece of concrete and a laurel sprig. Taking this as a sign she got up onto her knees and pulled away the overgrown grass with her gloved hands.

Daphne cleared what appeared to be a cement square, cracked with age. A thrill of anticipation rose in her. Standing up, she scuffed at the grass with her feet in front of the square and found another crumbling square inches from the first.

This could be a path. Wait, what does the verse say
?

“Circle three by path laid err find rod and bar.” Daphne glanced to the left and right. Shrubs blocked much of the view.

By trial and by spying an occasional sprig of laurel she slowly exposed a path of cement stones that curved to the right. At what seemed the half-way point of a large circle Daphne found no more.

As far as she could see there was nothing that comprised a rod or bar. Deciding to check to the right and left of the last stone she trampled down the tall grass. Her left leg struck something hard concealed by grass. Daphne halted. She took a step back.

Pushing aside the dead grass Daphne found a metal stake with a metal rod protruding from each side. Following the rods she cleared the area to another post. By the time her gloves were ruined she Daphne was certain it had once been an iron fence. Then she uncovered an arch lying beneath entwined in the overgrown weeds and grass. At one end of it she found another post with a rusted iron plate that resembled a hinge.

A gate
? Daphne almost leaped with excitement. She worked back along the arch and in the centre uncovered a mishapened bewinged object.

“It can’t be a bird,” she murmured studying the curved tail. The object’s long open jaws had once been full of jagged teeth. Daphne fingered one. She stilled as she studied it. It could have once looked like a monster.

“
Monster defies the way
,” Daphne quoted. She considered the metal edge attached to its feet. Redoubling her efforts Daphne tugged away more dead grass and weeds. The metal edge turned into a box. Exhilaration filled Daphne. She never saw the rider watching her rein away.

 * * * *

Richard stared out of his study’s window long after the steward left. There was the temptation to bolt to the ruins without Daphne. He discarded it because the thought of seeing her, of being alone with her lured more strongly.

Shoving back the lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes in exasperation, he muttered, “What is wrong with me?”

“Lust pure and simple,” he grabbed at the simplest, least damning explanation. “I’ll not be alone with her again.” Richard sighed. That was a lie. Solving the clues in the verses with her had built trust between them. He could no longer deny that. Daphne had shared her thoughts freely, had never tried to conceal anything. There was so much he admired about her.

With a shake of his head Richard pulled the bell cord to summon his butler.

The man appeared an instant later.

“Send word to Miss Stratton that we shall leave in an hour. Advise her to bring her companion.”

An hour and fifteen minutes later an impatient Richard paced to and fro in the salon where he awaited Daphne and Saddie. He turned at the sound of hurried steps. “At last.”

Saddie halted just inside the door and bobbed a hurried curtsy. “Miss Stratton sends her apologies. She has taken to her bed with a headache.”

Her words prompted an image of tangled legs and intertwined bodies which he quashed. Richard gazed at Saddie’s flushed features. Fear slithered into his heart. “Is Daph—Miss Stratton all right?”

“She said to assure you she is.”

Saddie looked anywhere but at him. “Does she wish me to delay our excursion?”

Saddie’s head snapped up. “She asks that you do not go without her.”

When she still would not meet his gaze, suspicion stirred. “Tell Miss Stratton I hope her headache is soon better.”

“Yes, my lord.” After dipping a curtsy Saddie fled.

Richard stalked into the corridor. “Return the gig to the stables. Have Perseus saddled and brought to me at once,” he ordered the footman.

Trotting down the steps fifteen minutes later Richard nodded a greeting to the head groom. “Did Miss Stratton request a horse from the stables this morn?”

“No, milord,” the groom answered. He gave his master a leg up into the saddle.

“Did she request a coach?”

When the groom shook his head, Richard nodded for him to release the stallion. Still uneasy he let the mount have his head as soon as they were away from the house.

When the ruins loomed into view, Richard saw the telltale signs of fresh wheel tracks through the tall overgrowth. “Bloody hell,” he swore and galloped to it.

Richard reined Perseus to a halt near the foundation, alighted, and dropped the reins. Long strides carried him to the brink of the rise. Bunches of weeds jerked from the soil and tossed aside littered what appeared to be steps.

“I shall ring her pretty neck,” he said as followed what he was certain was Daphne’s trail. Down the steps and then to the poorly concealed iron fence he strode. “Damnation,” Richard cursed when he saw a heap of freshly pulled weeds and grass topped with laurel leaves. Dark soil, freshly disturbed, peeked from beneath it. He went down on one knee and pushed the pile aside. The sight to the metal “monster” renewed his efforts.

When the ground around the metal box was cleared he pulled at the lid. Some time later with the aid of a rock he managed to open it. Surprise filled him at sight of the parchment inside.
Has Daphne left it for me
?

Richard withdrew it carefully. He broke the seal and opened it. His heart thudded heavily. A new verse. Daphne had never gotten the box open. Had never found the clue.

That minx, Richard thought but smiled. Perhaps he would share it with her but only after a small revenge for her bolting to the ruin without him.

 “Thou hast managed cleverly,” Lady Laurel complimented her husband as they watched Richard. “Two copies, ehh?”

“’Twas clear they’d ne’er get past this if together,” Lord Ricman said with a sad shake of his head. He motioned at the box that incorrectly looked as if it had never been opened. “Being a spirit has advantages.”