Quill nearly rolled his eyes at her ill-concealed attempt to get some gossip from them. But Ivy spoke before he could. “News does travel fast in this village, doesn’t it? I see you’ve been speaking with Mrs. Northman.”
But the censure in Ivy’s tone didn’t cow the inquisitive matron. “I hope you won’t think too poorly of me, Miss Wareham. I only knew Dr. Vance for a matter of days before I decided he was the one for me, so I’m hardly one to cast aspersions,” she said with a smug smile that seemed more proud than abashed. And I do love a love story, so do let me know your plans.”
There was something about the woman’s smile that made Quill feel a bit of sympathy for the good doctor. And he didn’t like the comparison she drew between herself and Ivy. Both couples might have made hasty betrothals, but he had a feeling that Mrs. Vance had been the one doing the chasing in her relationship.
“Oh, you’ll be the first to know,” Ivy assured her with a sunny smile that was, if Quill guessed aright, just as sincere as Mrs. Vance’s.
“I suppose we’ll be off, then,” he said, eager to get away from the doctor’s wife before she attempted to wheedle more information from them. “Have a pleasant afternoon, Mrs. Vance.”
And before she could reply, he’d given the horses a little flick of the reins and they were on their way back the way they’d come.
“You didn’t need to flee her,” Ivy said once they were out of earshot. “She’s simply a childless matron with nothing to occupy herself with but other people’s news. Quite sad really.”
“Sad for those who fall prey to her tattling tongue, you mean,” Quill said sourly. “I daresay she had the whole of the tale of our run-in at Northman’s the other evening before we’d even arrived back home. That sort has ears everywhere. She’s likely known Aunt Celeste was murdered from the day she died.”
“You’re probably not far off there,” Ivy said with raised brows. “She did seem a bit gleeful when she asked about the banns. As if she knew good and well that we’d have to be married by special license.”
“I suppose we should be glad, then,” he said, “that she didn’t cut us. Though I can’t imagine she’d ever turn her back on a marquess. No matter how scandalous his behavior.”
“You’ve a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” Ivy asked with a grin.
“It is more that I have a low opinion of others, my dear,” Quill said with a shrug. “It takes a great deal of scandal to put off a true social climber. And I fear Mrs. Vance, for all that she’s a country doctor’s wife, would dearly love to be more than that.”
“I suppose we’re going to have to wait to meet with Reverend Devereaux now,” Ivy said, changing the subject. “I confess I’m disappointed. I thought we might be able to solve at least part of the mystery this afternoon.”
“It will keep for another day,” Quill said, patting her on the hand. “Perhaps the others will have learned something else from the journals by the time we return.”
“I hope so,” Ivy said with a little sigh. “Because I begin to fear we’ll never find out who killed Celeste.”
Chapter 29
They’d only gone a mile or so when Ivy realized that Quill wasn’t following the way back to Beauchamp House.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “I thought we were going to see what the others might have learned.”
“I apologize,” he said, looking pensive. “I should have said something, but it only occurred to me while we were talking that I saw something in my portion of Celeste’s journals that I may have misread.”
He turned down a lane that seemed to lead toward the seafront.
“Well, I’m listening,” Ivy said, impatient for some explanation. “I do admit if we’re going to the shore, I’m excited by the prospect. I’ve wanted to go since we arrived but haven’t yet found the time. What with getting compromised, and shot and so forth.”
Quill laughed. “If you’d only said something I’d have been happy to take you. Dalton and I took Jeremy the morning after we arrived.”
“So, what did you remember?”
“Celeste made mention of a visit to St. Clement’s, which I read before your revelation that she’d had a lover,” he said, directing the horses to a clearing near the portion of the Beauchamp House property that led to the chalk cliffs overhanging the sea.
“A church?” Ivy asked. “Could it have been one of Ian’s parishes perhaps?”
“Not knowing the context, of course,” he said, “I thought as you did, that it was just a visit to a local church—for it appeared that her visits were made from Beauchamp House, not on some journey to another county. But, the entries seemed rather … floridly described. Ecstatic.”
Ivy looked puzzled. “What, you mean as if she were having some sort of religious experience? Like a saint?”
“Aunt Celeste wasn’t particularly devout,” Quill said dryly. “So, when I recalled the other St. Clement’s in this area it made a bit more sense.”
“What did?” Ivy made an impatient noise. “Really, Quill, you are being quite vague about this.”
“St. Clement’s is also the name of a series of caves along the coast here,” he said patiently. “One of which is just here on the stretch of land that’s part of the Beauchamp property.”
It took Ivy a moment to process what he was saying. Religious experience, cave, Beauchamp House.
“Oh!” she said softly when she realized what he was implying.
“Yes,” he replied. “Oh.”
“She met her lover there,” Ivy said, realizing that she too had read references to the cave in her sections of the journals. “I thought she was simply having qualms of conscience about her defiance of her father. That she was simply going to church frequently. Though I admit to not knowing if there was a St. Clement’s church in the area.”
“There have always been rumors that one of the caves had a tunnel leading up to Beauchamp House,” Quill said before jumping down from the curricle. Jogging over to the other side, he reached up for Ivy and held her close for a moment before setting her down on her feet.
“Do you think they’re true?” she asked, a little breathlessly, wishing they could just leave off their investigation for the afternoon and be together. It felt a very long time since he’d kissed her properly.
“I think we’re going to go find out,” he said, slipping his arm through hers after he’d secured the horses on a nearby tree. “There are stairs over here leading down to the beach. And if I remember correctly, the cave is only a few feet away.”
“You must admit,” Ivy said as they walked along the path leading to the stone stairs, which she could see from this vantage point, “it must have been dreadfully romantic for her to meet him here. Their own little place along the shore. Far from the prying eyes of the village—and her disapproving parents. I cannot help but sympathize with Celeste. What an awful heartbreak for her to endure at so young an age. It’s no wonder she never married.”
“I had always wondered why she remained unwed,” Quill admitted as they reached the top of the stone steps. “Though I suppose I believed my mother when she said that Celeste was far too demanding to ever think of marrying. She was quite envious of her I think. All that freedom to do whatever she liked. Mama didn’t have an easy time of it with my father. I believe my grandfather Maitland chose him for her because they were cut from the same cloth.”
“Do you remember him? Your father I mean?” Ivy asked, curious about the late marquess. Quill seemed to be close to his mother, but he hardly ever mentioned his father.
“Only a few times when I was small,” Quill said, keeping a tight grip on her hand as he let her precede him down the cliffside. “He wasn’t very interested in me, to be honest. I was a child and therefore beneath his notice. He called me into his study a couple of times to make sure I was able to recite my letters and numbers and that sort of thing. But he died before I was old enough to go to school, so I don’t recall much more than that.”
> Ivy, who was quite close with her own father, felt a pang of sympathy for him. She had a hard time imagining what her life would have been like if she’d had the same sort of parents as Lady Celeste, or a father like Quill’s. Despite their restricted means and the house full of sisters, she realized she’d been rather luckier than she’d previously thought.
“And yet,” Ivy said squeezing his hand, “you’ve turned into a decent man. I suppose your mother is to congratulate for that?”
“She and Celeste.” Quill smiled. “I actually spent more of my formative years here than at Kerr Castle. Which is why I was so dead set against you and your fellow bluestockings inheriting it. I see the error of my ways now, of course.”
They’d reached the bottom of the cliff, and Ivy leapt from the last step onto the rocky ground. The sun had come out and dappled the sea as it lapped peacefully against the shore. She could smell salt on the air, and a brisk wind threatened to take her hat from her head.
Sucking in a deep breath of the fresh air, she smiled at Quill. “I should hope so,” she said, slipping her arm through his as he followed her down. “At the very least I think you should know we’re not the social-climbing upstarts you once thought us.”
“Well,” he said with a lopsided grin, “perhaps the other three aren’t…”
“Beast,” she said with mock anger. “You know you love me.”
Her words hung between them for a moment, like a feather caught up in the breeze.
She saw his eyes darken, and he slipped a hand up to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. “I do indeed,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “More than I ever thought possible.”
* * *
Ivy felt her heart speed up as Quill’s words sank in. He loved her.
She slipped her uninjured arm up around his neck and gave herself over to the desire she’d been holding back all day. Opening her mouth under his, she welcomed the invasion of his tongue as he pulled her closer, let her feel the hard press of him against her aching body.
His kiss was everything she’d never thought she’d needed. At twenty-three, she’d long ago begun to suspect she’d never find her other half, that she’d be doomed to the same kind of solitude that Lady Celeste had endured. But she knew now that Quill was the one she’d been searching for.
“My sweet love,” he whispered against her, his breath hot against her ear, making Ivy shiver. “I would desperately love to follow this to its natural conclusion, but I’m afraid we are not alone.”
And turning, Ivy saw that there was indeed a party of fishermen farther down the shore.
“Drat,” she said in a low voice.
“My thoughts exactly,” he said with a wry grin. “But I suppose that will keep us on point. It’s not as if we’re here for our own amusement, after all.”
At the mention of their true reason for being on the shore, Ivy felt a pang of conscience. “You are right, of course. Let’s see this cave and mayhap we can find some other clue to Ian’s identity.”
With a regretful sigh, Quill led her to where an indentation in the cliffside was almost hidden by the rocks on the near side of it. If Ivy hadn’t been searching for it specifically, she’d never have guessed the mouth was there.
“I remember coming here as a boy,” Quill said as they neared the entrance, which was just high enough for Ivy to step inside, while Quill was forced to duck his head. His voice echoed off the walls of the cave’s interior, which opened up into a higher, more spacious area than Ivy would have imagined from the outside.
“I wish I’d known to bring a lamp, or a candle or something,” Quill said. “The back is quite dark, isn’t it?”
“What’s this here?” Ivy asked, as she stepped over to where she’d seen something that looked far more square than one would expect of a natural formation. Sure enough, as she stooped she saw it was a wooden box. “Look, it’s a casket of some sort.” Opening it, she found a candle and a few small sticks.
“They’re lucifer matches,” Quill said, taking one from her and striking it against a bit of rock lying beside them. To her surprise, a flame lit the air, and Quill used it to ignite the wick of the tallow candle. “Whoever has been using the cave recently must have left these for convenience’s sake.”
“It’s certainly convenient for us,” Ivy said with a smile. There was an unmistakable sense of excitement running through her. Not just because she was here with Quill, alone, but because of the cave itself. It was hard not to feel the sense that this place had been the den of smugglers and lovers and any number of adventurers who had found refuge in the snug rock room.
“I wonder if we can find the door leading up to Beauchamp House,” Quill said as he moved farther into the darkness.
“I thought you said that was just a legend,” Ivy said, following along behind him. “You sound as if you believe it.”
“There were definitely smugglers here during the war,” he said, raising the candle to throw the light farther back. “I remember Maitland and I found a couple of brandy bottles down here once. And if Celeste was meeting Ian here, then it would be easier to do so if there was a way for her to get here without being seen.”
“It makes sense,” Ivy agreed, her eyes darting around them as they moved farther from the cave’s entrance and the natural light it let in.
“Maybe you should wait here while I go up ahead,” Quill said when she stumbled on a rock behind him. “You’re so damned ready for anything that comes your way, I forget you’re still recovering from your wound.”
Ivy wanted to protest that she could handle herself, but she was indeed feeling rather tired. And perhaps just a bit lightheaded from the closeness of the cave. “I dislike admitting as much,” she said wryly, “but I do think I’ll go back closer to the entrance. I have never been particularly fond of tight spaces, and the farther we get from the entrance, the more constricted I feel.”
“My brave girl,” Quill said kissing her on the forehead. “Why didn’t you say so as soon as we stepped inside? I’d not have made you come this far. Come, let’s go back the way we came and I’ll get you back to the house.”
But Ivy wasn’t willing to let her weakness stop them from finding a possible way into Beauchamp House through the cave. “No! You must go ahead. I’ll wait just outside for you to return. It’s a lovely day out and I could use a bit of sun on my face and fresh air.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes worried in the candlelight.
“Yes,” she said, giving him a little shove. “Now go. I’ll be waiting for you. And maybe I’ll be able to find something else hidden away near the entrance. Maybe some artifact from Celeste and Ian’s time here.”
He nodded. “All right. But call out if you need me. With this echo I’ll hear you at once.”
With a peck on his cheek, she sent him off and turned back toward where the sunlight shone into the cave. Picking her way carefully over the stone floor, she was soon stepping out into the open air, unable to hold in the deep breath of relief at no longer being trapped in the enclosed space.
“Well look what we have here,” said a cool voice from the large rocks on the side of the entrance.
Ivy looked up, startled to find she wasn’t alone. “Mrs. Vance?” she asked, surprised to find the doctor’s wife here. “How odd to see you here.”
“Not particularly,” the woman said, sliding off the rock where she’d been seated. “There’s a tunnel from the vicarage that leads into the cave. I could hear his lordship’s deep voice booming against the cave walls. He’s got quite a deep one, hasn’t he? Not at all like poor Vance’s nasal twang.”
A hint of unease ran through Ivy. There was something … off … about the way the doctor’s wife was speaking to her. A lack of emotion that gave her a sense of foreboding. “Why were you in the cellar at the vicarage?” she asked, recalling that the vicar himself had been called away. And how did she know that there was a tunnel there? Something was not right here.
“That’s where I
had to put the vicar, of course,” Mrs. Vance said patiently. “I could hardly lock him up in the front room where anyone could see. My father and I have a great deal to catch up on, don’t you know? Which we’ll have to do in a bit of a rush thanks to you.”
“Mrs. Vance,” Ivy said, trying to keep her voice steady as she spoke. “What have you done?”
“Surely you’ve guessed by now, Miss Wareham,” the other woman said with a small smile.
And before Ivy could cry out, Mrs. Vance struck out with her hand, which Ivy registered with horror, was clutching a large stone.
Then the world went dark.
Chapter 30
Quill had gone several hundred feet farther into the cave when the glint of metal in the candlelight alerted him to the hinges of a cleverly crafted door built into the cave wall. He considered going back to tell Ivy, but remembering how much being in the interior of the formation had upset her, he decided to ensure that the passageway did indeed go to Beauchamp House before retracing his steps back to the entrance.
Fortunately, there were sconces built into either side of the tunnel walls and he lit them as he went, ensuring that his journey back to Ivy would be less daunting than the one in. He’d never been particularly afraid of the dark, but there was something eerie about wandering deserted passageways that had likely been used by smugglers for hundreds of years. He knew there was a tendency amongst some to think of the men who evaded the excise tax as heroes, but he was not one of them. There had been too many stories of men who crossed them being struck down, of homes set ablaze, for Quill to ever mistake them for anything but the criminals they were.
When he finally reached a set of stairs leading upward, he held his breath a little with hope, and the sight of a wooden door had his heartbeat quickening. When he pushed against it, and saw that he was in the wine cellar of Beauchamp House, his sigh of relief was genuine.
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