“Oh!” She jerked her attention away, feeling her face grow hot.
“Miss Hatherleigh? Have I said something to upset you?”
“No, not at all. Forgive me.”
“So, would you be willing to accompany me on a journey to the cave?”
Conscious of the heat still flooding her cheeks and the way her thoughts had revealed just how improper she could be, she drew herself up, arming herself with politeness, and said in a cool tone, “I am not sure it would be considered appropriate.”
“I see.” His look, his voice, conveyed disappointment. “We would not be alone, of course. Emma is feeling a little stronger today, and has said she will accompany us to the cave mouth. You could bring your maid, and your sketching materials.”
Heart torn, she eyed him. Yes, she wanted to go. Yes, she felt an almost desperate desire to spend more time with him. But surely such desires were not ladylike, were not proper. No, best to deny these desires rather than accede to them. But his face now looked sad, as if he’d been hoping for her company, and the lack of it would be like the sun shut out from his day …
“It is not that I do not want to go.” She grabbed at the nearest excuse. “It is my grandmother. I do not think she would be amenable to such a plan.”
“I see. Of course, I should have thought—”
“I will ask her,” she rushed on, hating to see the embarrassment in his cheeks, knowing she was the cause of it. “She can be very surprising at times, and when she knows it is of educational value …”
His lips drew upward and he nodded solemnly. “I should think such an excursion would prove to be immensely educational in understanding what an undergroundologist does.”
“Well, I shall ask her. After all, one cannot remain in ignorance for too long?”
“Indeed not.”
“Excuse me.” She offered a small curtsy and hurried from the room to find her grandmother in the small chamber she used for writing correspondence, a room that overlooked the sea.
After she apologized for her interruption and made her request, Grandmama looked at her with piercing intent. “Do you think his intentions honorable?”
“Grandmama!”
“Well, what do you expect me to think? A young man asking to escort my granddaughter. What else can it look like?”
“He says it would be educational.”
She sniffed. “I’m sure. But exactly what he would be educating you in I do not care to think on.”
Caroline eyed her uncertainly. She did not like feeling ignorant, but her grandmother’s words were something of a mystery.
“And I cannot think your spending so much time in this young man’s company would meet with your parents’ approval. After all, what are his connections? Who are his people?”
“He hasn’t asked me to marry him, Grandmama, only to accompany him on a short journey to the cave. You did not mind before.”
“Yes, but that was with that Kenmore fellow and Miss Kirby in attendance also.”
“Miss Kirby will accompany us again.”
“Regardless, those excursions did not involve caves. There is something rather unwholesome about a cave, I think. Dark and dingy places.”
“Oh, but—”
“Pray, do not interrupt me. Come on, think dear girl. What sort of young man woos in a cave? Certainly, none that possesses any honorable intent.”
“I believe Mr. Kirby is honorable,” Caroline said stiffly. “He is simply interested in scientific matters, nothing else.”
“Is he?” Grandmama asked, with another piercing look.
Caroline’s cheeks heated. How she longed to know if he truly did hold her in more regard than simply showing off his find. She could not deny such a thought made her heart gambol like one of Aynsley’s springtime lambs. She met her gaze squarely. “Truly, Grandmama, you should hear him talk about this discovery. He believes it might be the find of the century.”
Perhaps that was overstating things a tad, but her grandmother had to hear his passion, and perhaps she could recognize him in his own right, and not existing as a mere satellite around Caroline. Her breath caught. Perhaps Grandmama might even be willing to consider becoming his sponsor!
“Yes, I think perhaps it is best I do hear him speak. Is he here still?”
“I believe so.”
“Then I shall speak to him. I want to know more about this young scientific friend of yours.”
Gideon waited in the drawing room, not daring to sit down, not daring to pace as he’d like to, in case the stoic footman at the door see him and make a fuss. What was taking her so long? It had to be good, did it not? If it had been a denial, then she would have been back immediately—unless Caroline was even now trying to convince her to change her mind.
He felt his cheeks heat. Somehow it seemed a desecration to think of Miss Hatherleigh by her Christian name in such a setting, as if the cherubs gracing the ceiling could penetrate his thoughts and know him to be unworthy.
But he was unworthy. He knew that only too well. He would never have the title or the wealth this place demanded, although he hoped with his discovery that he might one day have a degree of status.
A noise came from without and he straightened, forcing his lips up in a smile as the door opened, only for his expression to slacken as the dowager sailed in.
“Lady Aynsley.” He offered a bow.
“Mr. Kirby.” She surveyed him, her critical gaze taking in his several years out-of-date coat and his scuffed boots. “I understand you wish to escort my granddaughter on a certain expedition.”
“Yes, your ladyship. It is to a nearby cave—”
“Pray do not interrupt me. I am not in the habit of being interrupted.”
“Forgive me,” he offered humbly, as the tips of his ears heated.
“I do not understand why you felt it imperative to speak with Caroline before speaking with me.” She eyed him in a way that made him feel akin to a loathsome spider.
Was he supposed to answer now? “Forgive me. I did not want your ladyship to be disturbed unless Miss Hatherleigh agreed.”
“Hmm.” Again, that piercing scrutiny. “Who are your family? What are your connections?”
What? Were such questions indicative that she suspected his interest to be deeper than mere educational purposes? Any answer he might offer seemed to take on a more serious weight. He swallowed, then answered succinctly about his family and education and prospects.
“Londonberry, eh? Well, that certainly throws a different light on matters. Does my granddaughter know?”
“No.”
“Is there any reason why such connections should not be made more widely known?”
He studied her. Should he trust her? Lord? He sensed affirmation, so began to share about his sister and Lord Pratt, a little surprised by her lack of shock at his revelation.
“I see. Well, I do not know that I would go about things quite as you have, but I can understand your reasons for doing so. Now there is no need to look at me like that. I will tell nobody, I assure you.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
She nodded, eyes still fixed on him. “So, your intentions towards my granddaughter are entirely honorable?”
“Of course they are, my lady. I would never give rise to anything that might bring Miss Hatherleigh a moment’s shame.”
“I should think not.”
“All I wish is to escort her and my sister to a recent discovery I have made. There would be no impropriety, I assure you.”
“Hmph.” Again, that disconcerting stare. “And she would be quite safe?”
“Yes, my lady.” He would die rather than let harm come to Miss Hatherleigh, but he sensed such a pronouncement might give rise to speculation which he could not yet afford, so he waited, the line of questions giving rise to hope.
“And she would not be brought into scandal? She is an Aynsley after all.”
“I assure you that nobody apart from you and my sister are aware
of our excursion.” He smiled. “Truly, ma’am, I was simply excited to show off my find to people I thought might be excited with me.”
“And what is it you think to have found?”
He explained briefly, and marveled that her eyes did not glaze over.
“Hmm. I admit that does hold a degree of interest.”
It did? “You would be very welcome to come also, my lady,” he offered.
“Somehow I do not think my accompanying you would be what you were hoping for.”
Heat crept up his neck. But perhaps her attendance would be beneficial. If she held some interest in his work, then perhaps she might agree to stand as sponsor—he shook his head.
“I thought not.”
“Forgive me, my lady, I did not mean to suggest that. I would appreciate your company, more than you realize, but I would not wish to have you do something you might not wish to.”
She chuckled. “My boy, I am always being asked to do things I have no wish for. Your invitation, such as it was, at least holds a mite of interest as a novelty.”
“It would be an honor, madam, to have your company—” he began eagerly.
“An honor you will have to forgo, I’m afraid, as it looks rather chilly out. I will permit my granddaughter to attend today, on the proviso that she is attended by my maid, and that I accompany her next time.”
Heart soaring, he grinned. “Thank you, my lady. Indeed, it would be a great honor to show you the work. Perhaps on our return today we can show you a specimen, and it will give you a greater understanding as to what it is like.”
“Perhaps,” she said, giving a regal nod. “Now I best summon my granddaughter and give her my blessing. My blessing for today’s venture, nothing more,” she added sternly.
But he sensed in her small smile an unspoken “as yet,” which warmed his own smile and softened his heart towards her.
A footman was summoned and dispatched, and a few minutes later Miss Hatherleigh entered the room, eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe what had transpired.
He turned to her. “You are sure you wish to come?”
“Yes,” she murmured. “I will need to change.”
“Then hurry up, child. You cannot keep the young gentleman waiting. You’ve kept him waiting long enough as it is.”
With a swift smile for him and a curtsy for her grandmother, Miss Hatherleigh escaped, leaving him with the formidable grandmother once again. “You will take care of her?”
“Of course.”
She gave a sharp nod, eyeing him in a way that made him think she wasn’t entirely convinced.
He lifted his chin, and offered a look he hoped conveyed assurance. “You have my word. Today will be a day she will never forget.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
TODAY HAD PROVED a day of wonders, enough to make Caroline almost believe there might be other miracles to be seen from this God the Kirbys trusted. She clutched the bag containing her sketchbook and pencils. From the look Grandmama had given Caroline as they departed, she wondered if perhaps her grandmother was not so hardened to romance after all. Especially not when it was dressed as scientific education. A gurgle of amusement escaped.
Mr. Kirby glanced at her, eyebrows aloft as if enquiring as to the source of her joy.
She shook her head, but offered a smile. Beatrice, Grandmama’s maid, was sure to report on all that was said and done, Mary’s chaperonage having apparently been deemed unnecessary—or unsatisfactory.
“I am so pleased you were able to come,” he said in an undervoice.
“I am also,” she whispered in return.
As they pulled up, Caroline spied Emma with the Ballards, apparently awaiting Mr. Kirby’s arrival. Emma must have anticipated his success in securing Caroline’s consent to come. Her pale cheeks belied the determined set of her chin as she drew close to meet them.
As Mr. Kirby helped Caroline from the carriage, anticipation bubbled within. With Mr. Ballard, he led the way along the path to the beach, Emma and Caroline in tow, Mrs. Ballard staying with the gig. Mr. Kirby looked to be walking on air, his excitement palpable. Surely today would be a day of great discovery.
Eventually they arrived at the cave entrance, which seemed but a gash in the cliff, a narrow opening with a sandy floor and red sandstone boulders guarding the entry. Caroline glanced at Emma who appeared reluctant to enter. “You do not wish to come in?”
She glanced at her brother, then acquiesced. “For a moment. I do not like contained spaces, but I could not miss this wondrous event.”
“Of course not,” Caroline said, looping her arm through Emma’s as they moved to where Mr. Kirby stood holding out his hand at the cave entrance.
“Mind the stones underfoot. It is a little slippery.”
“Does the water enter here?” Caroline asked.
“I believe so. It seems the tides have carved out this section of cliff over many years.”
“Will the tide enter now?”
“The tides are going out. We shall be safe.”
He led the way, one lantern held high, the other hand holding Emma’s as they passed over rocks and mossy stones. Caroline followed with Beatrice, and Mr. Ballard behind, holding another lamp, whose light cast eerie shadows.
Caroline shivered and pulled her wrap closer.
“You are not cold?”
“No,” she lied.
“It can get a little cool, but we shan’t be in here overly long. Ah, look, here we are now.” He lifted the lantern whose light fell on a section of rock face that glowed gray. Splicing the stone was an odd linear discoloration, which closer examination revealed to be a series of bones, like that of a skeleton. It was perhaps two to three yards long, with a curved smaller progression of bones that suggested some sort of tail.
“Here it is,” Mr. Kirby said, pride evident in his voice. “I believe it to be an ichthyosaurus.”
“Oh, Gideon, how wonderful!” Emma exclaimed.
“Truly remarkable,” Caroline agreed. “What sort of creature is it?”
“A sort of sea dragon.”
“Sea dragon?” A memory sparked. “Like the creature Miss Anning found?”
“Yes, the very same. Of course it was not a dragon per se, but a lizard creature that dwelt in marine environments, and looked something like a dolphin.”
“That seems the stuff of fairy tales.”
“Yet here it is.”
“Here it is,” Caroline echoed.
Emma coughed, then looked at them apologetically. “Forgive me, but I wish to return outside.”
“Beatrice could go with you.”
Emma smiled. “Somehow I do not believe your grandmother would think Mr. Ballard’s chaperonage quite enough.”
“Indeed she would not, miss,” interjected Beatrice, with a heavy frown.
“Mrs. Ballard is nearby. The day has cleared considerably, and the breeze feels warmer than earlier.” Emma held up a slim tome. “I shall be quite happy out there with my book.”
“I’ll take you, miss,” Mr. Ballard said. “Come now, watch your step.”
As they departed, Caroline turned back to Mr. Kirby. “She will be safe?”
He nodded. “Mrs. Ballard knows what to do.” Her attention returned to the rock face. She reached up, then paused, glancing across. “May I touch it?”
“Of course.”
She gingerly touched the ridged remnants of spine, marveling at the texture. “It feels so smooth.”
“It has doubtless been weathered by many a wave.”
Caroline glanced over her shoulder at the maid, standing several feet away, whose expression revealed profound disapproval. “Does this not accord to your taste, Beatrice?”
“I cannot say that it does, miss.” She sniffed, muttering something about dirt and vice and wickedness.
“Would you perhaps feel more comfortable waiting outside with Miss Kirby and Mrs. Ballard?”
“I am here to attend you, miss, at her ladyship’s orders.” She s
niffed again, then shivered.
“Truly, Beatrice, we shall return outside in a moment. You can be sure Mr. Kirby will behave with all propriety.”
“I have my orders, miss.”
Caroline glanced at Mr. Kirby and shrugged, which he acknowledged with a half smile.
As Mr. Ballard reentered the chamber, Mr. Kirby dispatched him once more, this time to bring in the larger box of equipment he’d left outside. Caroline couldn’t be sure, but with her perpetual sniffing, it sounded as if Beatrice must be falling ill.
Mr. Kirby encouraged her to make a sketch, so she drew out her materials, and, using the light cast by the lantern, began to translate the image of the skeleton to her paper. A sense of wonder balled within. Truly, this was a spectacular sight. How long had this creature been trapped within its rocky tomb? And to think she was one of a handful of others graced to see it. What an honor that Mr. Kirby wished her to see such a thing!
“Have you enough light?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Kirby.” She quickly sketched in some rocks to give a greater sense of proportion. “I do believe my youngest sister would think this most surprising of me. She is the one with the taste for adventure in our fam—”
Her words broke off as a rumbling sound suddenly shook the small space, followed by shouts and screams, including Caroline’s own.
Mr. Kirby jerked her away, holding her hard against his chest as a spectacular crash of rocks tumbled from the cavern ceiling to the floor.
“What’s happened?” Caroline cried, heart thumping hard. She blinked, trying to peer through the earthen powder. She started to cough instead, choking against the dirt and grit.
“It appears to have been a rockfall. Here, use your shawl to protect yourself from the dust.”
She obeyed, wrapping it around her nose and mouth. “Where is Beatrice?”
A feeble moan soon gave notice of where the maid was.
“Beatrice? Beatrice?”
Another muffled sound came from the other side of the fallen rocks.
“Is she hurt?”
Caroline realized the stupidity of that question almost at once, but Mr. Kirby gave no notice he thought the question a foolish one, simply saying, “I cannot know.”
A Hero for Miss Hatherleigh Page 20