Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress (12 page)

Constance laughed. “Practically thirty.”

“Did I sound so affected?” laughed Joanna. “Not thirty. Perhaps nineteen. Or even twenty.”

They laughed together.

“But all I want for Peter now is for him to be happy. I hope he is.” Joanna's expression showed some doubt.

Constance nodded, having nothing to say to this.

Joanna took a breath. “Well, let us think no more about it now. Tell me, did you enjoy Mr. Erland's picnic? Everyone is talking about it today.”

“They are indeed. The Townsends were here this morning. I had a lovely time. Did you?”

Joanna nodded. She considered telling Constance about finding the treasure note, then decided not to. She had promised Jonathan Erland that she would tell no one.

“I enjoyed myself immensely. Gerald took me all around the ruins and showed me the work they have been doing there. It is fascinating.” Constance smiled mischievously. “Have you heard that Mr. Templeton has been taking instruction in the use of a shovel?”

This diverted Joanna from her thoughts. “Instruction?”

Constance nodded, still smiling. “Yes. He has engaged a college gardener to show him the way of it.”

“No. You made that up to roast me. He can't have.”

“But he has. And he is coming along very well, according to the last reports. He hopes to be able to join the digging quite soon.”

Joanna burst out laughing.

“Gerald says that it is an edifying sight, watching Templeton go at it in the flower beds below his chambers. Last Tuesday, he worked so hard he blistered his hands and had to have them wrapped in cotton and ointment by the housekeeper.”

Joanna laughed harder.

“He has said that when he masters the shovel, he means to go on to the trowel,” finished Constance.

“Stop, stop,” gasped Joanna. “It is all a hum, I know, but I cannot stand any more.”

“It is not a hum,” retorted Constance. “Gerald told me the whole; he has seen it.” She grinned. “I have never been so amused as when he described the flower beds.”

“Indeed not.” Joanna was trying to imagine her solemn brother telling such a story. “I wish Gerald might amuse
me
so. He never tells funny stories at home.”

Constance flushed a little. “Well, but I am sure, that is, he may not realize…”

Joanna smiled at her now. “He may not find the company so agreeable, I think.”

The older girl's flush deepened. “Oh, I don't…”

“Well, I do. It is obvious Gerald likes you, Constance.”

Constance raised anxious eyes to Joanna's. “Do you think so? Truly?”

“Yes. And I am very glad of it, though how anyone can like Gerald I do not see.” She shrugged.

“But he is so brilliant, so knowledgeable, and with that so kind; I do not see how…”

“Enough!” cried Joanna. “Let us leave it that I am very glad.” She looked at her friend teasingly.

Constance flushed again, smiled, and looked down. “Of course, there is nothing in it. Sometimes, I think he likes me a little, but then, I am not sure. It is all uncertain.”

“Well, I have never seen Gerald so interested in anyone. And he has been visiting us much more often lately, you know.”

“Has he?”

The shy eagerness in Constance's tone made Joanna smile again. “He has. You needn't worry, Constance—I shall help you all I can. I should like it above all things to have you for my sister.”

The older girl's eyes filled. “Thank you. But you will not do anything…”

“I shall be perfectly discreet.”

This made them both laugh.

“How odd it is,” continued Joanna, “to be thinking of Gerald in such a way. I cannot imagine wanting to marry someone like him.”

Constance grinned. “But we have already seen how one feels about brothers, have we not?”

Joanna laughed again. “We have. Do you feel the same about yours?”

“Absolutely. They are impossible creatures.”

“How lucky that we needn't consider them,” Joanna laughed. “Oh, Constance, it is such fun talking with you. I have not laughed so much in weeks.”

The other girl's smile faded. “Indeed, Joanna, I am so glad to have a friend in you. When I came back from school…” She paused.

Joanna flushed a little. She did not like to think of her earlier treatment of Constance.

“Well, I am just so happy to be friends,” added Constance in a rush.

“And I,” agreed Joanna.

They exchanged a smile.

“Come,” said Constance, “let us go and sit in the garden for a while. It is cooler there.” And the two girls walked downstairs together, very pleased with their new, closer relationship.

Sir Rollin arrived at the stroke of ten the next morning. Joanna, dressed and ready for riding, drew a breath when he took her hand to greet her, remembering the conversation she had overheard the previous day. She briefly raised her large dark eyes to his, and he smiled down into them more warmly than he had ever done before. Joanna blinked and looked down again.

Her mare was brought round, and Sir Rollin lifted her into the saddle. His groom fell in behind them as they trotted down the lane in front of the house. The sun was warm, but not yet hot, and a light breeze stirred the leaves of the oak trees beside them. “A fine day,” said Denby.

“Isn't it?” she agreed.

“And you are looking ravishing, Miss Rowntree.” The man's hazel eyes sparkled as he surveyed her. “I must say that rose pink becomes you admirably.”

Joanna looked at him sidewise. “You didn't say so the last time we rode together,” she ventured.

“Did I not? Yet, I'm sure I meant to. I know I thought it. Perhaps I was tongue-tied by your beauty.”

The girl puzzled over this for a moment, then dimpled. “I don't think you ever are.”

Sir Rollin laughed. “Do you not?”

Joanna looked over at him, a little breathless. She had never before had an opportunity to flirt, and she found it very exciting. Sir Rollin, as always, looked complete to a shade. His buckskins and top boots were flawless, and his olive-green coat stretched across his wide shoulders without a wrinkle. Joanna followed the intricate folds of his neckcloth with something akin to awe. She knew from Peter's early efforts just how hard it was to tie such a complex design. With a happy sigh, she told herself that she was flirting with a true nonpareil.

Sir Rollin's smile broadened a little. “Shall we have a gallop?” he asked. They had by now come to some open country.

“Oh, yes,” answered Joanna. She spurred her horse, and they leapt forward. With the breeze in her face, she threw back her head and laughed. All the unsettling things that had happened in the past few weeks seemed to drop out of her mind, and she felt she hadn't a worry in the world.

They finally pulled up two fields away. Joanna was breathing faster, her cheeks flushed nearly the color of her habit and her dark eyes shining.

“You ride very well,” said Sir Rollin as he reined in beside her. “Do you hunt?”

“A little but I don't often get the chance. If we take the road here, we can go around by Longton.” Joanna thought of the acquaintances she might see in the village. It would be splendid to bow to them while riding beside Sir Rollin.

“No, let us go that way,” replied Sir Rollin, pointing in the opposite direction. “I haven't ridden along this part of the road.”

Slightly disappointed, but agreeable, Joanna turned her mare. They crossed another field and entered a lane. As they rode, Sir Rollin chatted easily. He was more attentive than before, saying nothing that might make Joanna uneasy or puzzle her, and was clearly exerting his not inconsiderable charm. He talked of hunting in Leicestershire and told an amusing story of his discomfiture over a five-barred gate, then shifted to riding in Hyde Park and some of the follies committed there in the name of fashion. He soon had Joanna laughing and enthralled.

After about twenty minutes, they came out near the back boundary of the Abbey park. “Ah,” said Denby, “we are at Erland's. I didn't realize that this lane led here. Shall we go and see how your father's investigations are getting on?”

Joanna frowned; she had no desire to see her father just now. “I'm not certain Papa is here today,” she said.

“Oh, yes. Look there.” Denby pointed with his riding crop to a cluster of men standing in the ruins. And before Joanna could speak again, he had started toward them. She followed perforce.

The group consisted of her father and brothers, Jonathan Erland, Templeton, and another student Joanna did not know. Her father held a bit of muddy crockery and was turning it this way and that and musing aloud. “Possibly a chalice, or a reliquary. Yes. I like the idea of a reliquary. You see this curving portion here.”

Templeton gazed at him with awe-filled eyes. “Yes, sir,” he murmured.

Gerald moved restlessly. “You know, Father,” he said, “it seems to me nothing more than glazed clay. Surely a reliquary would be more ornamented?”

“Perhaps.” Mr. Rowntree held the fragment up to the light and squinted at it.

“Dash it if it doesn't look just like my cousin's chamber pot,” muttered the other student.

Templeton whirled to glare at him. “Clodpole,” he began.

But Mr. Rowntree interrupted him, exclaiming, “That's it! That's precisely what it looks like. You have a keen eye, Carstairs. A chamber pot. Very interesting. Mark it down, Gerald. A chamber pot here in the cell. Perhaps one in each. We shall see.”

Carstairs looked nonplussed, and there was a stifled sound from Sir Rollin. But when Joanna turned to look at him, his face showed only impassive interest. As Gerald bent to a large square of parchment spread out on a piece of flagstone, Denby spoke. “Good day. Are you mapping the ruins, then?”

Mr. Rowntree started and turned. “Ah, Joanna. And, er, ah, yes. Good day. I didn't hear you come up.”

“You are mapping the old abbey?” repeated Sir Rollin.

“Yes. Yes indeed. All of our findings will be recorded.” Rowntree indicated the paper on which Gerald had finished making a note. A large rectangle was drawn on it, and several areas had been filled in with smaller enclosures and notations. Rowntree gestured to the left. “There, you see, is the refectory. We have established that.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “It is here. Then the cloister is here, and the chapel there. We have been digging in the monk's cells this morning.” He straightened. “One must have method in these things.”

“Indeed.” Sir Rollin was surveying the map closely. “Have you found any underground chambers, or anything of that nature?”

Joanna's father frowned. “You mean the church crypt? No. Though that is a very useful idea. An underground chamber might remain intact, even today.” He bent to the map again. “It should be about here, I suppose, if there is a crypt.” He put a finger on the parchment. Sir Rollin watched closely. “Yes, indeed. A splendid idea. We shall try it, perhaps tomorrow. You have a quick mind, Mr. ah, yes. What do you think, Templeton?”

“By all means.”

Jonathan Erland frowned slightly. He had not looked happy since Joanna and Sir Rollin rode up, and now he eyed Denby warily.

“Perhaps I might join you?” asked Denby.

Mr. Rowntree rubbed his hands together. “Of course, of course. Whenever you like. Another head is always welcome. Why not now?”

Sir Rollin indicated Joanna. “Your daughter has kindly consented to ride with me today. I cannot abandon her so rudely.”

“I could escort Miss Rowntree home,” offered Erland, “if you wish to stay here.”

Denby smiled slightly. “Not at all. I could not give up our ride. But if I may come tomorrow?”

“Of course,” replied Mr. Rowntree. “Joanna, you might come, too. Meant to ask you; Erland was just reminding me.”

Joanna was astonished. Her father had never asked her to join in his scientific pursuits. “I?” she stammered.

Her father nodded. “You could help Gerald with the notes and drawings. You always had a very fine hand.”

This compliment reduced Joanna to gaping silence.

“Why not, Miss Rowntree?” put in Erland. “We may find something interesting, you know.”

Sir Rollin smiled. “We mustn't bore Miss Rowntree. If she does not wish to dig…”

Joanna found her tongue. “Oh, but I do. I mean, I should love to help. I'll come tomorrow, first thing—and I can draw the map. I've had hundreds of drawing lessons.” She stopped, out of breath.

Erland smiled, as did Gerald.

“Splendid,” said Mr. Rowntree. “We shall see you tomorrow then.” And he turned back to his pottery fragment, immediately forgetting that Joanna and her escort were there.

“Shall we go on?” asked Denby after a moment. Joanna started and agreed. They said their farewells and turned their horses' heads away from the ruins. Erland watched them until they were out of sight around a bend.

“A novelty,” said Sir Rollin when they reached the lane once more. “It is fascinating. I have never encountered anything just like your father's enterprise. Frankly, I am somewhat bored in my sister's house. She talks of nothing but alterations and grottoes, and one cannot be out with charming companions every hour of the day.” He smiled at Joanna as he said this.

She flushed a little. “Indeed, it is a quiet neighborhood, though we have had more entertainments this summer than usual. But you must wish for Brighton and your friends.”

Sir Rollin's mouth twisted. “I have not come to that yet,” he murmured.

Remembering what she had heard his sister say, Joanna blushed in earnest. Was Denby referring to Miss Susan Chudley? At least, he could have no idea that she understood him. But she thrilled a little to think that he did not want to go to Brighton after all.

“It's growing hot,” said Sir Rollin then. “Shall we turn back?”

Joanna nodded, and they headed toward the lane again, riding in silence until Denby said, “Erland takes an interest in the excavations, it appears.”

She nodded again.

“I wonder why?”

Surprised, the girl considered. “Well, it
is
his land, after all. He will want to know what they find.”

“Indeed. And they may unearth something quite extraordinary, I suppose.”

“In that jumble?”

Sir Rollin looked at her. “One never knows.”

“Well, I doubt it. The ruins have been there for hundreds of years, and no one has found anything valuable in all that time.”

“I daresay you are right.”

Sir Rollin dropped the subject, deftly turning the conversation to lighter topics. They arrived back at Joanna's house well before luncheon, but he refused her polite invitation to come in, saying he wished to get his horse into the stable before the heat of the day. He helped Joanna dismount and waited politely as she walked up the steps to the hall, raising a hand when she turned in the doorway. “Good-bye, Miss Rowntree. I am in your debt. A charming ride. I hope we may repeat it. And I shall see you tomorrow.”

Joanna smiled and nodded as the door was shut behind her and the man mounted his black once more. She stood with her back to the door panels for a moment, smiling dreamily. What if Sir Rollin
should
fall in love with her, she mused? What an extraordinary thing that would be. She was embroidering on this theme when the digging party came in, and they were all called to luncheon.

After the meal, Joanna went to the drawing room with a book, but the story did not hold her attention for long, and in a few minutes she was indulging in pleasant daydreams once again. Thus, she frowned when her brother Frederick came bouncing into the room and sat down opposite.

“Hullo, Joanna,” he said. “Do you want to go treasure hunting at the Abbey this afternoon?”

“Treasure hunting? What do you mean? The digging? I thought Papa was staying home this afternoon.”

“He is. It's not digging. It's something else.” Frederick looked conspiratorial.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing!”

Joanna frowned at him. “Well, I have better things to do than crawl about the ruins with you, and…”

“I told him you would not wish to come,” interrupted her brother, with evidence of satisfaction. He started to turn away.

“Told who?”

“Mr. Erland. He said I must ask you, but I told him girls have no interest in such things.” Frederick grimaced. “The silly things you do instead of having fun.”

Joanna was frowning. “Mr. Erland wanted me to come?”

Her brother considered, his round face wrinkling. “Well, I don't know that. He was being polite, I guess, since you were there when we found the letter.”

“But he did
ask
you to come? This is not some scheme of your own to look through his house again?”

Frederick looked indignant. “Of course, he asked me. You heard me promise Mama that I would not go there again without an invitation. What do you think me?”

Joanna hastily begged pardon. “And so you are really going to look for a treasure?” she added. “Mr. Erland thinks there is one?”

Her brother shook his head wearily. “What have I been telling you? Girls! They never understand anything.” He raised a hand and spoke with exaggerated simplicity. “Mr. Erland asked me back today to search for the treasure. So he must believe there is one. I'm going. He said I should see if you wished to come along.”

“You know, I think I will,” said Joanna, ignoring his tone. As she thought again of finding that letter, she became rather intrigued.

Frederick seemed surprised and not wholly pleased. “We shall probably be crawling about in the attics and basements,” he warned. “It will be dusty, and I daresay there may be spiders.”

His sister smiled. “Then I must change my dress, mustn't I?”

Defeated, Frederick turned toward the stairs. “I mean to leave right away,” he said over his shoulder. “And I shan't wait for you. Father said I could use the gig.”

Startled, Joanna said, “Did you tell Father about the treasure?”

The boy made a rude noise. “Do you take me for a nodcock? Besides, we promised not to tell, remember? Though I daresay you have. Girls are such tattleboxes. And if you have told Selina Grant, the whole neighborhood will know it within a day.”

“I have told no one,” replied Joanna with cold dignity. She picked up her skirts and started toward the stairs. “I shall be ready in five minutes.”

Unimpressed, Frederick retorted, “See that you are.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and strolled out, whistling.