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‘In the past we spent a deal of time at Adversane, it was almost a second home. My wife was a great help to Lady Adversane, especially with all the arrangements for the summer house party. We would spend weeks here so that Judith could assist her, but of course Cousin Ariadne is taking care of everything this year, and she has you to support her, Miss Halbrook.’
‘Precisely.’
An awkward silence followed Adversane’s curt response. Mrs Dean rose and quietly invited Lucy to come with her to the drawing room. She said nothing as they crossed the hall, but immediately they were alone in the drawing room she burst out with unwonted spirit, ‘If Judith Cottingham did anything to help anyone I should be surprised. Whenever I’ve seen her here at Adversane she has either spent her time lying down in her room, or wandering about the garden, looking forlorn.’
Lucy blinked at her.
‘Why, Ariadne, I have never heard you speak in such a forthright manner before.’
‘No, well, usually I am prepared to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, but to hear Adam talking in that fashion—!’ Her pursed lips and frowning expression told Lucy just what she thought. She continued scathingly, ‘Judith Cottingham is a poor little dab of a woman with a perpetual air of gloom about her. And I did not think Helene was ever that fond of her. In fact, I think she resented her interference, because she told me once that she could not prevent Adam and his wife from coming here so often because they were Ralph’s nearest relatives. Heavens, to listen to Adam you would think Judith was essential to the running of Adversane!’
‘Mayhap Mr Cottingham is very much in love with his wife. I believe such affection can blind one to a partner’s faults.’
Her companion gave a most unladylike snort. ‘The only person Adam Cottingham is in love with is himself! His father was a wastrel, you know. Quite profligate, but thankfully he went to his grave before he lost everything. However, although Adam managed to keep the house at Delphenden, there was never enough money—at least not to keep Adam in the manner he wished. Even his marriage did not bring him the fortune he expected, so Ralph set up an annuity for him. Not that Adam was ever grateful. It is my belief that he envies Ralph his fortune and his lands, although I doubt he appreciates just how hard Ralph has worked to make Adversane so prosperous.
‘Adam positively haunted the place while Helene was alive, for the house was always full of visitors and that gave him the opportunity to shine, which there is no doubt he does in company. But since the accident I believe he has not been near the house, when you would have thought he would be here to support his cousin in his grief. As Ralph’s heir I think he should have done more to help him over the past two years, rather than to stay away. To my mind it shows a sad lack of family loyalty—but there, it is not my place to say so, and Ralph has not encouraged visitors for the past two years. He was in great danger of becoming a recluse, you know, which would have been a very bad thing for the family, so we must be grateful that he is holding the summer house party again this year and I shall say no more about Adam’s behaviour.’
Lucy was inclined to think Mrs Dean a little harsh in her judgement of Mr Cottingham. Despite his propensity for flirting, as the evening progressed Lucy decided that he was a very friendly, cheerful gentleman and a complete contrast to his cousin, whose unsmiling countenance and taciturn manner were even more marked than usual.
* * *
Lucy found only Mrs Dean in the breakfast room the following morning, Lord Adversane having already gone off to Ingleston on business with Harold Colne. Her thoughts turned to the forthcoming house party.
‘Is there anything you would like me to do, ma’am?’ she asked.
‘I rather thought we might go over the arrangements together later today,’ said Ariadne. ‘I have several urgent letters that I must write this morning so Byrne can have them taken to catch the mail. I am sorry, my dear—’
‘No, no, that suits me very well,’ replied Lucy. ‘It is such a lovely morning that I thought I might walk to Druids Rock.’
‘Alone?’
‘Of course, alone. It is Adversane land, I believe, so surely it is safe enough.’
‘Well, yes, my dear, of course it is safe, as long as one does not ascend the rock itself—but I have always thought it such a forbidding place, especially since Helene’s accident...such tragic memories.’
‘It holds no such memories for me, although I admit I was reluctant to ask Adv—Ralph to take me for that very reason.’
‘If you will only wait until later I will come with you—’
Lucy chuckled. It had not taken her long to discover that while Ariadne liked to busy herself around the house, her idea of exercise was a gentle stroll in the shrubbery.
‘No, no, ma’am, I would not dream of troubling you,’ she said now. ‘Besides, it promises to be very hot later, and we would be better employed indoors than walking in the midday sun. No, I shall go this instant and thoroughly enjoy myself.’
Shortly after, attired in her sensible boots and carrying a shawl in case the breeze should be fresher on the moor, she made her way out of doors, pausing only to ask directions from one of the footmen, explaining with a twinkle that she did not wish to lose her way and put the staff to the trouble of finding her.
‘Nay, ma’am, that’s not likely, for Hobart’s Moor ain’t large and the path is well marked.’
‘I believe the lane leading from the wicket gate will take me there,’ she prompted him.
‘Aye, ma’am, that it will. Follow the lane through the trees and that’ll bring you to Hobart’s Bridge. Cross that and you’ll be on t’moor. There’s a good track then that brings you round to Druids Rock.’
Armed with this information, and the footman’s assurance that she could not miss her way, Lucy set off. The gate was in fact wide enough for a horse and she guessed the path through the trees had originally been intended as a ride. However, the undergrowth now encroached upon it and the trees grew unchecked, their branches almost meeting overhead. She was glad of her shawl for the morning shade was cool. The trees ended where the ride joined an ancient track that curved away around the belt of woodland in one direction and in the other it stretched out before her, winding down across a picturesque stone bridge and cutting through the distant moors.
She walked on and crossed what she guessed to be Hobart’s Bridge, pausing to look over the side at the fast-flowing little stream that tumbled over its rocky bed. Lucy followed the track, striding out briskly beneath the cloudless blue vault of sky. The path ran around a natural ridge in the moor, the land falling away to gorse bushes and the stream on one side while rugged slopes covered with rough grass and heather rose up on the other.
As the path wound onwards the views of Adversane were left behind and the dramatic landscape of hills and steep-sided valleys unfolded before her. She stopped several times, taking in the view and thinking how much her father would have loved to paint such scenery. She had captured some of it in her own sketchbook, but everywhere she looked there was another vista. So many views, she knew she would not be able to sketch them all before the house party was over and her employment at Adversane was ended.
She rounded a bend to find the ground ahead rising steeply and suddenly there was Druids Rock soaring above her. There could be no mistaking it, for it towered over the path at this point, dark and brooding, even in the sunshine. The old track ran to the south of the rock and continued down into the wooded valley below, which she guessed was the way to Ingleston, but Lucy chose a narrow path winding up through the heather. As she drew closer to Druids Rock she could see it was not one solid piece but a jumble of huge stones, pushed together as if by some giant hand. The southern face reared up like a cliff, but the northern side swept upwards in a gentle slope, easily ascended. Lucy did not hesitate. She walked up to the top of the ramp and stood there, revelling in the feel of the fresh breeze on her skin. It was like standing on top of the world.
Behind her, the natural rise of the moors blocked her view of the track and only the chimneys of Adversane were visible. Looking south, with the sheer drop at her feet, the valley opened up and beyond the belt of trees directly below her she could see the town of Ingleston nestling between the hills. Leading from it was the white ribbon of road that she had ridden with Ralph yesterday.
Lucy sat down on the edge of the rock, enjoying the peace and solitude. Below her, a few wagons and horses were moving silently along the road while the surrounding land below the moors looked green and well-tended, a network of tidy walls and neat farmsteads. Most of it, she knew, belonged to Adversane. Ralph. It was a good spot from which to see the extent of his domain, but she understood why he did not come here, if his wife had fallen from this very rock. Glancing down, she remembered Ruthie’s incautious words. Helene had come here in her evening dress. Had she really been so unhappy that she—?
No. She would not speculate. That would be a despicable thing to do. She scrambled to her feet and left her high perch. She would go back to the house and ask Mrs Dean what exactly had happened. She regained the track and set off back the way she had come. She had not gone far when she heard the thunder of hooves. Looking around, she saw the dark figure of Adversane cantering towards her. Lucy stopped and waited while he brought his horse to a plunging halt beside her.
‘Was it you, on top of the rock?’
He barked out the words, a thunderous scowl blackening his countenance.
‘Yes.’ She fought down the urge to shrink away or apologise. ‘It was such a lovely morning I wanted to explore.’
‘Explore! Don’t you know how dangerous those rocks can be?’
She replied calmly, ‘I am sure in the wet they are extremely treacherous, but the ground is dry, and my shoes are not at all slippery.’ She twitched aside her skirts to show him the sturdy half-boots she was wearing.
He glared down at her, and Lucy waited for the furious tirade that she felt sure he wanted to utter. After a moment’s taut silence she said quietly, ‘I am very sorry if I alarmed you.’
She thought she might have imagined his growl as her apology robbed him of the excuse to harangue her. He jumped down and by tacit consent they began to walk, with Jupiter following behind them.
‘I saw someone on the rocks and thought it was you. I came up to make sure you were safe.’
‘That was very considerate, sir, when I know you do not normally use this track. Is that because of what happened to your wife here?’
He threw a swift, hard glance at her.
‘Who told you? What have you heard about that?’
‘My maid said Lady Adversane fell to her death from the rock.’ She added quickly, ‘Please do not blame Ruthie. If she had not told me I should have asked Mrs Dean.’
‘I am surprised you were not told I’d killed her.’
Lucy stopped in her tracks. He gave a harsh laugh.
‘Oh, not literally. I was at the house when she fell, but it was known she was not happy.’
‘You mean they think she killed herself.’ Lucy’s parents had often deplored her blunt speaking and she glanced a little uncertainly at Lord Adversane, but he did not appear shocked so she continued. ‘Would she have done such a thing?’
‘I do not think so, but—’
Lucy put out her hand to him. ‘If she did take her own life, you must not blame yourself, sir.’
He was looking down at her fingers where they rested on his sleeve. Gently, she withdrew them. It had been an impulsive gesture, but he was, after all, almost a stranger. They began to walk on again and despite a little awkwardness Lucy did not want to let the moment pass.
‘Will you tell me?’ she asked him. ‘Will you explain what happened the night she died?’ When he did not reply immediately she added, ‘I beg your pardon. I have no right to ask—’
‘But you want to know, don’t you? If I will not speak of it then you will find out from someone else.’
She could not lie.
‘Yes.’
‘Then it is best you hear it from me. Helene walked here a great deal. Her father, Sir James, is—calls himself—a druid. Have you heard of The Ancient Order of the Druids, Miss Halbrook? Not so ancient, in fact. They were founded about five-and-twenty years ago by a man named Hurle and they are an offshoot of an older order, which Hurle considered too profane. They have their own beliefs and rituals, many based on nature and astrology. And of course they believe there is a link with the ancient standing stones.’ His lip curled. ‘There are no such stones at Adversane, but we do have Druids Rock. The name of the place goes back generations. No one seems to know why it was called thus, but certainly there have been no druidic rituals here in my lifetime, or my father’s. When Preston learned that Druids Rock was on my land he was even more eager for me to become his son-in-law. Even before the marriage had taken place he began to come to Adversane regularly to visit the rock. As did Helene during that last spring and summer when we were living at Adversane. She even went there in the dark, ostensibly to watch the sunrise.’
‘Ostensibly? You did not believe it?’ Lucy closed her lips. That was not the sort of thing one asked a man about his wife.
‘I did not question her beliefs,’ he said shortly. ‘But I did insist that she never went there unaccompanied. She agreed always to take her maid with her, and I was content with that.’ A faint, derisive smile curled his lip. ‘The locals fear the place is haunted by fairies and hobgoblins, but I never heard that they injured anyone. If she wanted to get up before dawn to go there I would not forbid it.
‘That is what she is thought to have been doing on Midsummer’s Eve. It is thought to be the reason she was still wearing her evening gown.’
‘Why did you not come with her?’
‘I have no time for superstition, Miss Halbrook.’
‘But what about romance?’ Those dark brows rose and she blushed. ‘Some would think it romantic to watch the dawn together.’
‘That would be as nonsensical as my wife’s druidical beliefs.’ His hard look challenged Lucy to contradict him, and when she said nothing he continued. ‘She was not missed until just before breakfast time, when her maid realised she had not gone to bed. I organised search parties, but it did not take long to find her. Druids Rock was the first place we looked.’
‘How dreadful for you.’
‘Not only for me, but for everyone who was staying at Adversane.’
‘And yet, you have invited the same people to join you here again?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you have invited the players to come in, just as they did the night she—the night Helene died.’
‘The Midsummer’s Eve play is a tradition, Miss Halbrook. It goes back generations, far beyond the tragedy of my wife’s death. It is not logical that it should cease because of one tragic event.’
‘But surely—’
He stopped her, saying impatiently, ‘Enough of this. We will talk of something else, if you please, or continue in silence.’
* * *
She chose silence, and Ralph found himself regretting it. She might infuriate him with her incessant questions but she was only voicing what others would think. It was as well that he had the answers ready. He acknowledged to himself that he had been misled by her appearance. In Mrs Killinghurst’s office, she had looked positively drab in the enveloping grey gown and quite demure. If he had known she would show such spirit he would never have employed her. A faint smile began inside him. He should be honest with himself. He did know, from that very first encounter in the alley.
He had deliberately positioned himself at the door of Mrs Killinghurst’s office so that he could observe the candidate for this post and he had seen Miss Lucy Halbrook walking towards him. He had noted the slight hesitation as she found her way blocked, then the way her head had come up as she approached him, determined not to be intimidated.
Yes, he knew from that first moment that she was not one to accept his demands without question. He should have told Mrs Killinghurst to send her away, to find someone more biddable. Even as the thought formed he realised that after Lucy Halbrook, anyone else would seem very dull indeed.
* * *
Lucy hardly noticed the continuing silence. Her mind was too full of what she had heard to make idle conversation. Lord Adversane was lost in his own thoughts and did not appear to object so she occupied herself with studying her surroundings, the rough grass and darker patches of heather, the view of the distant hills. Everything was new and interesting. Suddenly a swathe of white caught her eye, a shifting, snowy carpet nestling in a wide, flat depression a short distance from their path.
‘Oh, how pretty. What is it?’
‘Cotton grass.’ He strode across to the dip and picked a handful of the fluffy, nodding heads. ‘It grows on boggy ground. It can be used to stuff pillows, though it is not as good as goosedown.’
‘It looks very fine,’ she observed.
‘It is. Feel it.’
The breath caught in her throat as he brushed the white heads against her cheek. The touch was gentle, as light as thistledown, but it sent a thrill running through her body. She became shockingly aware of the man standing beside her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to connect herself to his rugged strength. It was an immense struggle to compose herself and respond calmly.
‘It, um, it is as soft as silk.’
He held her eyes for a moment, a look she could not interpret in his own, then he turned away.
‘Unfortunately the strands are too short to be spun into thread.’
A faint disappointment flickered through her as he cast aside the grasses and began to walk on.
Did you expect him to present them to you like some lovesick swain?
With a mental shrug, she fell into step beside him again, walking on in silence until they had crossed Hobart’s Bridge and were approaching the belt of trees that separated the moors from Adversane Hall.
‘Does that way lead to the Hall, too?’ she asked, pointing to the old track where it disappeared around the trees.
‘Yes. It leads to the main gates, but it will be quicker if we go through the old ride.’
‘Is that what it is called? I came out that way,’ said Lucy. ‘I suppose Lady Adversane rode through it when she went to Druids Rock.’
‘No, my wife was a nervous rider and preferred to walk. I never come this way.’
She looked up at the overhanging branches.
‘And you have not had many guests since the accident, so consequently it is much overgrown.’
‘You are right. The only people to use it now are the servants, if they are walking to Ingleston.’
‘But it is such a delightful route, my lord. It seems such a shame that one cannot ride this way any more.’
‘It is a loss I can bear.’
They had reached the gate leading into the grounds of the house. Ralph was about to open it, but Lucy was before him, lifting the latch and walking through, as if declaring her independence. He found himself smiling as he watched her. She was a strange mix, quiet and a little shy, yet not afraid to challenge him, and not at all cowed by his sharp retorts. He had not spoken to anyone of Helene’s death for so long that it had been a relief to talk of it, so much so that he had had to stop himself from confiding his suspicions. But he could not do that, he was playing far too dangerous a game to involve anyone else. If he was wrong then innocent names would be mired by suspicion. It was his plan and he would share it with no one. He alone would take the credit for it. Or the blame.
Ralph guided Jupiter through the gate and closed it firmly behind him. Lucy was waiting for him. The wind had sprung up and she was busy trying to untangle her shawl.
