"We talked about the stones at Avebury and Roman roads." Sarah braced for her friend's anger, but Corina snorted a laugh.
"Only you would bore on about such nonsense with a man like Davinoff." She smiled in satisfaction. "Hardly auspicious, Sarah. Here is a man finally worth having, and you don't even make a push to acquire him." Corina mused, "I wonder why."
"Corina, you don't own men, as you do horses."
"Oh, but you do, Sarah." Corina smirked. "You talk about history with a man who is physical, capable of passion beyond the ordinary. Couldn't you see that? In an instant, I knew."
"I am not like you," Sarah almost whispered. She both wished it true and dreaded that it was.
Corina leaned forward. "But you are," she breathed. "Somewhere down inside you. You can't hide from me. Can you forget that I was there in Sienna? You just won't admit it."
Sarah stood, her napkin pressed to her mouth, and watched the gray billows of rain flap over the garden. "I do not speak of that time, Corina."
"All right, Sarah." She could hear the smile in her friend's voice. "It is safe to sit down. I believe that meeting Davinoff was accidental."
Sarah turned, memories threatening to flood over her. She pushed against the door in her mind to shut it tight against the streaming, glowing, remembered light of Tuscany.
"Sit down," Corina repeated.
Sarah sat and took the slices of Seville orange Corina served her. The fruit was tart, each section perfect and glistening with juice. The door closed at last. Sarah sighed.
"Now, let us talk about what to do with my Mr. Davinoff," Corina was saying. "He will be back. When he comes, we must entertain him, mustn't we? I will meet him at the Assembly Rooms, of course. And one could expect to see him in the Pump Room. But we need something more exciting." Corina got up to pace. "He must hunt. I look well on horseback."
"Will he come?" Sarah frowned in doubt. "Bath society seems cramped for such a man."
"Silly girl! He can find me only here. He will come."
Sarah swallowed her dismay at this single-mindedness and tried to focus on her own mission. "Corina, I must go. I am on my way up to Clershing to speak with my agent."
"To Clershing?" Corina asked sharply. "Next to the property Davinoff owns?"
Sarah nodded. Did all roads lead to talk of Davinoff? But Corina had sniffed a new scent.
"That is why he isn't beating down my door," she mused. "I'll wager he has gone up to finish his business there!" The blond woman rose and threw her napkin to the floor. "I'm coming with you."
"What?" Sarah asked, stunned. "But, Corina, you aren't packed and I need to start now."
"Nonsense, I can pack in a moment." Corina dismissed her objections out of hand. "Reece, tell Pembly to bring round the landaulet immediately."
But the packing took time. Corina's trunk had to be brought down and clothing chosen. It was half past one by the time the carriage crunched off through the gravel of the front drive, with Pembly in the driving seat.
Corina chattered like a schoolgirl during the first part of the journey, but she could not sustain her manic mood. After a while, she lapsed into the fidgets and finally into silence, which was just as well since Sarah found her restless energy tiring.
Left to herself, however, Sarah could find no thoughts that brought her peace. The prospect of penury saturated her mind. She held to the slender thread of hope offered by her impending visit with Mr. Wells. When she tried to move her mind away from that unhappy subject, the memories of her continental tour with Corina threatened to leap up and overwhelm her.
Sienna. She had been eighteen. She forced her mind to skitter over that time to the aftermath. Her father never knew why she'd come home early with a hired chaperone instead of with Corina and Corina's Aunt Letty. Sarah spent that time after the trip feeling small and frightened, sure that her lifelong friendship with Corina was over, unsure who she was.
She didn't see Corina for quite some time. She heard that her friend's mother had finally left her father. There were rumors of his strange proclivities, not unlike those that swirled around his daughter even now. Only Sarah knew how true these rumors were. Apparently, the man's taste for England paled. He left for the Far East, leaving his wealthy daughter in the charge of Aunt Letty, who was certainly no match for her. Corina toured again in the spring and came home to marry her lieutenant, Charles Nandalay. Sarah was not invited to the wedding.
Corina wore black for her simple, beautiful husband for less than three months after she got word that he had been killed at Salamanca. She had probably begun regretting her marriage as soon as she had captured her pretty pride of the regiment. Being a widow was so much more convenient, as Corina explained later. She could do anything, everything, with no need of chaperones. She did do everything, according to some.
So Corina was a widow and Sarah almost upon the shelf, except perhaps for George's expectations, when they'd met again by accident as guests at a dinner party. Sarah smiled when she saw her onetime friend. Corina was holding court, as always, and the scene was so familiar. Perhaps there was nostalgia in that smile. Corina glanced up as she transferred attention from one admirer to another and saw Sarah standing there, smiling. Corina smiled, too.
Sarah knew why Corina forgave her. The most brilliant stone still needs a setting. Sarah was always very clear about who was the setting and who the jewel. Why she had a need to forgive Corina was more difficult. These days, Corina's usual demeanor toward Sarah was one of amused deference. And Corina never spoke of Sienna. Why now? Sarah had some confused idea that it had to do with Davinoff. She imagined his dark hair and fair skin bathed in Tuscan sunlight. Was that how Corina saw him? She must never suspect Sarah of feeling the shock of his touch. Davinoff made them both think of Sienna. Sarah resolved not to feel the shock again.
When they arrived in Littledon-on-Severn, a mile or two from Clershing, it was growing dark. Corina was shocked that Sarah intended to stay at the Tongs and Hammer. Sarah explained that everything was in dust covers at the Dower House. She should not need to remind Corina that she kept no servants on call, but Corina purposely forgot facts she found inconvenient. Anyway, Corina was preoccupied just now with other things. Other things named Davinoff.
The next morning, Sarah rose early to go see Mr. Wells. She contemplated the meeting with some trepidation. The knowledge that the man had been acting for her nemesis ruined her trust. Still, he might be able to tell her something about the deed, or about Davinoff and his hideous plans. Sarah was surprised to see Corina making a hearty breakfast in their parlor.
"Sarah, my love!" Corina greeted her with excitement blazing from her blue eyes as she dove into a plate of eggs and grilled mushrooms. "Do sit down and eat. I have been thinking of all sorts of ways that we might wangle an invitation to Thornbury Abbey."
Sarah sat on Corina's left and reached for the coffee. "What are you talking about?"
"You turn your ankle, just near to Thornbury Abbey, and I go up and get assistance, quite heroically, by the way, and then we all sit down to nuncheon!"
Sarah sighed. "I hate to spoil your fiction, but Thornbury Abbey is not a great house with butlers and footmen and maids. It is a ruin, plain and simple. No one lives there."
"What?" Corina was too startled to pout. "But it belongs to Davinoff, doesn't it?"
"Apparently," Sarah said, buttering toast. "But he must be staying at an inn hereabouts."
Corina's face fell. She shoved away her plate. "I can't go searching every inn to see where he is staying," she protested.
"Do as you like. I am going over this morning to see my agent, Mr. Wells."
Corina jumped up and began to pace the room. "Why didn't you tell me this before, Sarah? It could take days to find where he is staying. While I kick my heels here, I may miss him in Bath." She whirled decisively on her friend. "I shall go back to Bath immediately. There is no use in staying here if I have to scour the countryside."
Sarah put down her coffee
cup in alarm. "But I must see Mr. Wells this morning at least."
"Rubbish," Corina snorted. "Davinoff is probably already in Bath. We start immediately."
"Wait," Sarah protested, thinking quickly. She did not want to be stranded by Corina twice in one week. "Mr. Wells has been acting for Davinoff. He will know where he is staying."
Corina was halfway out the door when she turned.
"It is certainly worth finding out," Sarah said, enticing.
"We'll see this Wells person," Corina announced. Then she was out the door to order Pembly to bring around the carriage, leaving Sarah to gulp her coffee in haste.
The Wellses' house sat down a long lane that ran between hedgerows covering the slate fences that divided the Clershing fields. The two-storied cottage was whitewashed, its thatch neatly tied and chrysanthemums blooming in the dooryard. Sarah worried about how to be private with Josiah. She did not want her friend to know about her difficulties, and she could hardly expect confidences from Mr. Wells with Corina champing at the bit to question him.
Sarah's knock at the iron-strapped door of the cottage was answered by Mrs. Wells, an ample, ruddy woman who wiped her hands on her apron. "Well, well, Your Ladyships, this is a surprise. Come in, come in," she clucked as she ushered them into the tidy sitting room. "Josiah," she called, "you have visitors." Then to Sarah and Corina, "Let me get you ladies some cider."
Sarah thanked Mrs. Wells, and glared at Corina when she rolled her eyes. "You wanted to come, Corina. Now you can be polite," she admonished in a whisper.
"Cider? Please." Corina threw herself into a rocking chair and held her hand to a brow.
Mr. Wells strode into the room. "Yer Ladyship, what brings you here?" He was a tall man with a graying beard and piercing eyes. He looked the way a steward should look, Sarah thought, sharp and lean. Excellent, if he was with her, formidable if he had aligned himself with Davinoff.
"Mr. Josiah Wells, let me present my friend, Mrs. Nandalay." Corina glared at Sarah impatiently as Mr. Wells nodded his head in greeting. "I wanted to review the detail of the crop disposition with you. Do you have the time?" Sarah could practically hear Corina groaning.
"I always have time for yer affairs, Yer Ladyship. Were ye wantin' me to get out the ledgers?" He looked so serious that Corina eloped hastily to the kitchen for cider.
"My missus baked some apple tarts just fresh too, miss," Mr. Wells called after her. "The smell has been tormentin' me." He turned back to Sarah. "Was there somethin' ye missed the last time ye went over the ledgers with a tooth comb, Yer Ladyship?" he asked. Only a gleam in his eye indicated that he had divined her ruse, and acted as accomplice to obtaining some privacy.
"Of course not, Mr. Wells." Sarah smiled ruefully. Her agent sat in the rocker vacated by Corina, folded his hands calmly in his lap, and waited for her to tell him her purpose. She took a breath and decided to be blunt. "Mr. Wells, I wondered if you had heard that my neighbor is contesting my ownership of Clershing?" She wanted to judge his reaction. She was on the alert for nervous gestures and eyes that could not meet hers.
His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed, but they never left her face. "Never say that Davinoff is challenging the split."
He knew, at least, about the history of the place. "So Mr. Lestrom's son tells me."
"Aye," Wells murmured softly. "I never woulda thought…"
"Neither would I, Mr. Wells. Apparently, however, it is quite true."
"Show the deed and there's an end to it, Yer Ladyship," Wells told her resolutely.
"Ah, but there is the problem. The deed cannot be found." At her words, the man's eyes widened again, almost imperceptibly. She saw him purse his lips, considering.
"Well, that's a hard thing, certain," he said after a minute. "Were ye thinking that it might be at the Dower House, or burned in the fire?"
"We never stored anything of value in the Dower House, unless you know something I don't," Sarah said. "What do you think, Mr. Wells?"
He pressed his lips together. "Can't say as I like to tell you this, Yer Ladyship," he said, in his deliberate way. "But it seems mighty peculiar that Lestrom don't have the deed and he ain't noticed it all these years if it was burned in the fire."
Sarah drew her brows together. "I think Davinoff took it."
"Mayhaps. Don't Lestrom usually keep valuable papers locked up? Shouldn't think he'd be able to get at it without help."
"But I have known Mr. Lestrom all my life!" Sarah protested the unspoken accusation.
Wells's eyes were watchful. "I knowed him all my life, too, mind you. But Silas didn't get to be the sharpest solicitor west of London by not knowin' where his client's deeds were."
Was he accusing Mr. Lestrom or not? "He seemed very old when I saw him in London," she mentioned. "What exactly are you saying?"
Wells did not answer directly. "I expect yell be wantin' company when you go to straighten this out with Lestrom or with Davinoff. I'll tell my rib to pack my bags."
Sarah was truly touched by his concern. "Thank you for your kind offer of help, Mr. Wells. But I can manage. There's nowhere else the deed could be, is there?"
He stroked his beard. "Not that I can see."
Sarah sighed. There was one more question. "How is it that you act for Davinoff?"
"As to that, my father was his agent before me," Wells responded, with gruff embarrassment. "Or his father's agent, at any rate. I been gettin' a draft on banks from right around the world every quarter day, just to keep an eye on the place, keep people from hauling off the stones, see it ain't used by the gentlemen. Then he appears, suddenlike, a few weeks ago. I must say, if I'd a seen him, I woulda refused them drafts. He's a hard man. I never knew he meant to challenge your right to Clershing," Wells ended with brows raised in apology.
Sarah could not help but believe him. "I wonder what brings him here now."
"He asked me to take charge o' payin' the workers he's bringing in from some furrin' country to dig up the abbey. I told him you were thinking of doing the same down at those ruins on the corner of Clershing. He looks startledlike for a minute; then those eyes of his go dead black. He says that he can't allow that, and he stalks off."
"He was most interested in my plans for excavating the villa the one time we spoke of it," Sarah thought aloud. "What is he doing up at the abbey?"
"Reinforcin' the structure, I would guess, since they been haulin' timbers for a week."
"He can't hope to make it habitable," she puzzled. "It is long past that."
Wells pursed his lips and stroked his beard. "Can't ask the workers; they don't none of 'em speak English. Should I refuse to act for him?"
"No," Sarah answered after a moment. "It will be as well that someone I trust is close to him and can inform me of his intentions." She glanced up at Mr. Wells, a question in her eyes.
"Oh, aye, I'll keep an eye on him fer ye, Yer Ladyship. Though I'll lay odds as he's a man used to gettin' his way, an' what you or I say be damned."
"I may not be able to stop him from doing as he pleases, but knowing you are on the watch will comfort me." She smiled. "Is he staying hereabouts? He left Bath last night."
"No." Wells shook his head. "The last letter I had from him said he won't return until next week. When he comes back, I'll find out what he's up to with Clershing."
Corina came out of the kitchen. "I say, Wells," she began. But Sarah took her arm.
"It's time to go, Corina," she said smoothly. "I have all the information there is to have."
"Really, Sarah," Corina sputtered. "I…"
Sarah was already drawing her out the door. "Thank you, Mr. Wells, for all your help."
"You remember, Yer Ladyship, that I'd be right glad to come to Bath at a minute's notice to help you finish your business." Wells followed them out into the dooryard.
At the gate, Corina took her arm back forcibly and glared at Sarah. But her attention was diverted by something behind her friend. "Whatever is that?" she asked slowly.
"Good-bye, Mr. Wells," Sarah called back. "And thank your wife for her hospitality."
As the carriage moved off, the spell that held Corina broke and she came to life. "Well, where is he staying? You must have some news, Sarah, since you would not let me say a word."
"He told Wells he would be in London."
"Wells was lying to you," Corina sputtered. "He is about here somewhere, I know it."
"I am ready to go back to Bath if you are." Wells had started Sarah thinking in new lines. Who could have helped Davinoff do the deed? And what could Davinoff be doing at the abbey?
"I'm not going back to Bath just yet," Corina declared. She turned to gaze back at the dilapidated abbey. "I suggest we make an expedition. I would most like to explore some ruins."
Sarah's brows creased. "You can't go touring private property." At least not Davinoff's.
"He doesn't live there. Besides, he is in London according to you."
"I just don't think it is right to go snooping around other people's land, Corina."
"Sarah." Her friend stared at her. "Can you sit here and tell me you are not curious?"
Sarah sighed. "Curiosity is not the point."
"I knew it," Corina crowed. "You are much too honest."
Sarah nibbled her lip. Corina was right. She wanted to know what Davinoff was doing up there. "Very well, Corina. We can arrange for a couple of hacks from the landlord. The road to the abbey has been impassable to carriages for years."
Chapter Five
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As they began the steep climb toward the abbey, Sarah had to admit that the day was beautiful. The air was crisp but not punishing, and the sky between the clouds was that shade of vibrant blue peculiar to autumn. It was the kind of day that quickened one's blood with promised hardships and made one want to store up nuts for winter like a squirrel. Sarah felt her pulse race. Corina, too, seemed tense with suppressed excitement.
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