She gave herself a mental shake. She could not stand there, mooning about. There was nothing she need be afraid of. Steeling her nerves, she marched up the steps and rapped with the brass door knocker.
The door was opened by a maid. “May I help you?”
“I wish to see Mrs. Montgomery.”
The maid looked at her expectantly, and Anne realized that she was waiting for a card. In the ordinary course of things, no gentlewoman would be without a calling card. But Anne had never needed them before.
“Tell her Miss Webster is here. I am certain she will wish to see me.”
The maid gave Anne a look that sized her up, then opened the door wide. “Please, come in and wait here. I will see if my mistress is at home.”
Anne stood in the hallway as the maid disappeared upstairs. A moment later, the maid returned, followed by a woman in her mid twenties who could only be Mrs. Montgomery. Her modestly cut gown showed a figure that was a shade plumper than current fashion, but the printed muslin was of the first quality. Framed by fine blond hair, her round face seemed made for smiles, but the expression it bore now was one of caution.
“Miss Webster?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I am Mrs. Montgomery. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Mrs. Montgomery extended her hand for Anne to shake. Then she looked behind Anne, as if expecting someone else to be there.
“I came alone,” Anne said, realizing that Mrs. Montgomery was looking for Ian.
“Of course,” Mrs. Montgomery said, although Anne could tell she was disappointed. “My husband is at the Naval Yards. I could send a servant for him…”
“I thought it best if the two of us talked. Alone,” Anne said. It was why she had decided to call unannounced rather than sending word ahead. Without the presence of her husband, Mrs. Montgomery might be more willing to speak her feelings.
“Certainly,” Mrs. Montgomery replied. “If you will follow me, I have a tolerable sitting room in the back. Dora, please bring refreshments for our guest.”
Even for August it was an unmercifully hot day. It was the kind of day that should be spent indoors, or at least by the shores of some convenient lake. No sensible person would have chosen this as the day for an excursion.
Unfortunately sensible was the last word that could be applied to this house party. Priscilla, having spent days planning an excursion to view the stone circle at Emlyn’s Leap, was not to be denied her treat. “What is a little sun, when compared with the chance to see stones that have stood since the time of Arthur?” she had exclaimed. “Every time I am there I feel a mystic connection to the glories of the past. How can we deny our guests a chance to share in such an experience?”
She had sighed with rapturous delight. The Misses Crane had declared their fervent desire to sketch the prospect. The gentlemen, while immune to the glories of the past, had no objection to a plan that allowed them to spend an entire day with the ladies.
Even Lady Frederick, who in the normal course of affairs could be counted on to restrain Priscilla’s enthusiastic starts, declared herself in favor of the idea, and announced her intention to go on the excursion herself. Freddie could not help wondering what prompted her sudden interest in the stone circle. She had lived in the county for over thirty years, and to the best of his knowledge she had never before expressed an interest in ruins of any sort.
In vain Freddie pointed out all the attendant discomforts of such an excursion. The circle was more than two hours away. It would be a long journey, made during the hottest part of the day. Moreover the stones themselves, while of local interest, were hardly to be compared to the great stone circles, such as the one in Salisbury Plain.
Eventually, however, he allowed himself to be persuaded. After all, the guests were leaving tomorrow. All he had to do was avoid Miss Sommersby’s company for one more day, and then he would be free. If he remained at home he was certain she would invent some excuse for staying behind, while in such a large party, it would be easier to avoid being alone with Miss Sommersby. And with Anne absent, there was no reason for him to remain.
In the end there were an even dozen in the party that left to view the stone circle. The ladies were his mother, Priscilla, the two sisters Crane, Lady Alice, Miss Flockhart and Miss Sommersby. And for the gentlemen, in addition to himself there was Mr. Arthur Crane, Ensign Bisland, Mr. Chumley and their neighbor Charles Dunne. All unexceptionable, except for Arthur Crane who had taken to following Priscilla about like a lovesick puppy. Fortunately she did not seem to take him seriously.
Although the idea was Priscilla’s, it was Lady Frederick who organized the expedition with her usual efficiency. A quartet of servants was sent ahead with a cart full of provisions, to prepare an alfresco luncheon. There were three carriages to convey the ladies and those gentlemen who chose not to ride. Freddie, wary of a long journey with Miss Sommersby, announced his intention to ride Ajax.
The journey proved every bit as uncomfortable as he had foreseen. Some of the younger gentlemen chose to ride alongside the carriages containing the ladies, but for his part Freddie was content to ride in silence at the rear of the procession. The heat beat down unmercifully upon them. He could feel his brains baking in his skull, yet knew better than to suggest they cancel the expedition. There would be no shade or rest until they reached the stone circle.
At last they approached the village of Emlyn’s Leap. Freddie, after making certain that the rest of the party knew the way, declared that he was riding on ahead to ensure that all was in readiness for their arrival.
Since the stone circle lay on the grounds of the Farthingdale estate, Freddie stopped by the gatehouse and made the customary payment of a guinea to the gatekeeper. Proceeding down the lane, a quarter-mile past the gatehouse he turned off onto the path that wound through the oak woods. It was blessedly shady under the trees, but the woods were small and in a few moments he emerged back into the sunlight.
The stone circle lay in a small meadow between the oak woods and a river. It was a popular spot, and the groundskeepers kept the meadow grass cut short for the convenience of visitors. A path led to the outskirts of the circle, around the stones and then down to the river. A trail ran along the river-bank. If one walked downriver the meadow was eventually swallowed up by the woods, but the trail was well marked, and half a mile downriver there was a waterfall.
The circle itself was made up of thirteen granite stones, the tallest of which stood no more than twice the height of a man. A stone had fallen over, and the rest leaned drunkenly. One in particular looked as if it might fall if given the slightest push. But appearances were deceptive. Despite all of Freddie’s youthful efforts, the stone still stood.
Freddie dismounted, and led Ajax off to a corner of the meadow. Removing the bridle, he put the hobbles on and set Ajax free to graze.
A respectful distance from the circle, the servants had set out small tables draped with linen and had placed chairs around them. There would be no casual lounging around on the ground, not while Lady Frederick was in charge. The assistant cook watched a small fire, while the three footmen busied themselves setting out the refreshments. Seeing that all was in readiness, Freddie set himself to wait for the arrival of the others.
The rest of the party arrived only a few minutes later. Priscilla proudly showed off the circle as if she had constructed it herself. She related various fanciful histories of the site and then concluded with her favorite tale. “And in the time of King William, there lived a great Norman lord. He had one daughter, Mathilda, said to be the fairest woman in all of England. One day she was walking in the woods with her ladies when she met Sir Emlyn. He had been a Saxon knight, but had lost all his lands and properties to the Normans and now lived in the woods. They fell in love at the instant, and they began to meet secretly here at the stone circle. All was well until one of her ladies betrayed her and told her father. He was enraged. When Emlyn came to the circle, he was met, not by his lady but by her fathe
r and his knights. Emlyn ran for his life, till they surrounded him by the waterfall. Rather than be captured, he leapt over the cliff and was killed. When Mathilda learned of her lover’s death, she killed herself as well. But every midsummer’s night their spirits return to the circle in remembrance of their love.”
“How thrilling!” exclaimed Lady Alice.
“How positively romantic,” said the elder Miss Crane.
The gentlemen were less impressed. “What kind of a man was he to run like that?” asked Ensign Bisland. “A real man would have stood his ground rather than fleeing like a dog.”
Priscilla gave the young ensign a scornful glance. “Humph! You have not a romantic bone in your body.” She ostentatiously turned her back on him.
“You tell the story so well I can almost see them,” Arthur Crane said to Priscilla.
She dimpled up at him. “Do you really think so?”
“Indeed.”
“Well, I have more stories I can tell,” she said, allowing Mr. Crane to take her arm. “And the ruins of the castle are not far off in the woods. Perhaps we could stroll there after we have our luncheon. Did you know that the first…?”
Freddie felt a stab of sympathy for Arthur Crane. Little did the fool know, but Priscilla could talk for hours.
The party strolled about the stone circle until Lady Frederick summoned them to dine.
As the afternoon wore on, Freddie kept a wary eye on the sky. The sun still beat down, but now the pale blue sky was tinged with haze, and in the distance he could see a dark line of clouds. There was a storm coming. But the clouds were to the west, and Beechwood lay to the east. With luck, they should be able to return home before the rain began.
The luncheon over, the servants began clearing away the dishes, packing them away in the cart. The party rose and began strolling about the meadow. He saw his mother speaking first with Lady Alice and then with Miss Sommersby. He waited until Miss Sommersby moved off before approaching his mother. “There will be rain soon,” he said. “It would be best if we left now.”
“You may be right,” she said.
“Oh, no! We can not leave now,” said Priscilla. “The storm is still far off. And I did so want to show Mr. Crane the waterfall.”
“I think we should depart,” Freddie said firmly.
“You are panicking over nothing,” Mr. Dunne said. “Those clouds are miles away. It will be hours before they are here, and who is to say whether or not they will bring rain with them?”
Freddie looked around and realized he faced a potential mutiny. He took a deep breath. He could insist on their leaving. But he would not. If they chose to ignore his advice, then so be it. It would be no more than they deserved if they got caught in the rain.
His mother gestured, and Priscilla came over to where they were standing. “Lady Alice is not feeling well,” his mother explained. Indeed, the poor woman seemed dreadfully pale. “I will be returning home with her and with Miss Sommersby. The rest of the party can follow later.”
“Will you join us?” Priscilla asked Freddie.
“No. I have no wish to see the waterfall,” he replied. He would see his mother off, then wait here until the rest of the party returned.
Priscilla joined her friends, and the gentlemen and ladies started down the path that led to the waterfall.
Freddie found the coachman and let him know that Lady Frederick wished to depart. Then he went over to check on the servants who were loading the last of the provisions into the cart. “You had best start back now,” he instructed the assistant cook, Joseph. “I don’t like the look of that sky.”
“Yes, my lord,” Joseph replied.
The heavily laden cart would travel more slowly than the carriages containing the party. But with any luck they would reach Beechwood before the rain broke.
He returned to see that the small curricle had been driven over to the edge of the circle. Lady Alice was seated within, while his mother stood beside it.
“Where is Miss Sommersby?” he asked.
“I do not know,” Lady Frederick said. “She mentioned something about picking wildflowers, then wandered off in the direction of the woods. I thought she would be back in a moment, but the chit has not returned. You must go and find her.”
His eyes narrowed. His mother had been maneuvering for days to place him alone with Miss Sommersby. This seemed like an unlikely coincidence.
“Why me?”
“Because there is no one else. The gentlemen are all with Priscilla and her friends at the waterfall.”
He hesitated; then his mother said sharply. “Just go. Find the girl and bring her back. She can return home with the rest of you.”
At that moment Lady Alice gave a delicate moan and pressed one hand to her stomach. She seemed truly unwell. It was cruel of him to stand debating with his mother while she was suffering.
“Lady Alice, I regret that you are not feeling well. My mother is right. You should depart at once, and the rest of the party will follow as soon as we may.”
His mother gave him a rare smile of approval.
“Thank you,” she said.
After they left, he paused for a moment to think. If Miss Sommersby had intended to join the group by the waterfall, she would have had to pass him as he conferred with the cook. Therefore, she must have followed the path upriver.
He began walking along the path. The river lay to his left, while the woods lay to his right. The woods gradually approached the path until he was walking on their very boundary. Small white and yellow flowers bloomed along the edge of the woods, and in the shade he could see wild primroses. “Miss Sommersby,” he called.
He continued to call her name as he walked, but there was no response. Where on earth could the chit have gone? Had she headed for the waterfall after all? But no, he would have seen her. At last he reached the spot where, as it emptied into the river, a small stream cut across the path. The ground was muddy, and showed no signs of footprints. Very well. She had not come this way.
He retraced his steps, his irritation slowly turning to concern. If she had ventured off the trail, it would be very easy to become lost in the dense oak forest. Now he walked more slowly, his eyes searching the woods for any sign that a person had passed. Sure enough, after a quarter-mile he saw a small path that disappeared into the woods. A deer track, he guessed. There were no signs of footprints, but he decided it was worth investigating.
He ventured into the woods a couple of hundred yards. “Miss Sommersby,” he called. He heard no answer and shouted again, with all the force he could muster “Miss Somm-ers-by!”
This time he heard a faint sound that might have been a reply. Ahead, and off to his left. Heading in that direction, he called again, and this time he could distinctly hear her calling.
He found her, sitting on the ground beside the ruins of an ancient stone tower. “Oh, my lord, I am so happy to see you,” she exclaimed. “I have been here for simply hours.”
He wondered why she did not stand when she saw him. He picked his way among the stones that had fallen to the ground over the years. “Miss Sommersby, is there something wrong?”
She blinked up at him, and he could see the tracks of tears on her face. “My ankle. I stumbled over those stones, and I think I broke it.”
He gave her a sharp look. “Indeed. And just what were you doing here?”
“I thought I would bring some flowers back for my mother,” she said. “I started on the path, but then I saw these glorious wild lilies in the woods. I followed them in, and before I knew it, I was all turned around. I kept calling and calling, but no one came. Eventually I saw this tower. I knew it must be the one from Priscilla’s story. I thought I would sit here and rest. But then I fell…”
Of all the stupid, foolish things. Even Priscilla knew better than to wander off alone into unfamiliar woods.
“We had best return to the others,” he said. The trees clustered thickly around the tower, but glancing directly up, he co
uld see the sky had clouded over.
He pulled his watch from his pocket. It was later than he had thought. By now the others must have returned from the waterfall. No doubt they were wondering where he had disappeared to.
“Which ankle is it?”
“My right one,” she said, pointing.
“Let me take a look at it.”
He knelt down beside her. She gave a brief gasp as his hand touched her ankle, and turned a bright shade of crimson, whether from pain or modesty he did not know.
“It does not feel broken,” he said, trying to sound more sure than he felt. “Let me help you to your feet and we will try walking.”
She nodded.
He stood up and grasped both her hands in his, then pulled her up till she was standing on her left foot. Gingerly she put her right foot on the ground and assayed a step. She moaned and would have fallen if he had not caught her.
He wrapped his left arm around her waist. “Put your arm around my shoulders,” he instructed. She raised her arm, and he stooped down so she could place it on his shoulders. “Now, let us try a step.”
She hopped on her left foot. “There, you see? We can do it,” he said encouragingly.
But they had not gone a half-dozen paces before she stumbled, and despite his best efforts she fell to the ground.
“Ouch!” she yelled.
“Are you all right?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry. “I am sorry. I am such a weakling,” she said, “but I can not do it.”
He looked down at her. She was right. At this pace, it would take them days to hop back to the clearing where the stone circle lay. He bent down on one knee and picked her up as if she were a child.
But she was no child, and he was barely able to stand upright with her in his arms. He would never be able to carry her the full distance. Not unless he tossed her over his shoulder, an act which would do nothing for either of their reputations.
He carried her the short distance back to the stone tower, and set her down on a convenient boulder. “I am afraid there is nothing else I can do. I must go for help,” he said.
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