who has performed wedding ceremonies where the bride
was less than joyous to be married.”
“This is quite different.” The vicar picked up his spoon.
“From your message, Simon, it appears Darcy has already
cut all ties with her family and is quite able to provide for
herself.”
She looked at Simon in surprise. He had asked the
vicar to come here? She silenced her ungrateful thoughts,
reminding herself that Simon had no idea Reverend
Fairfield had asked her to leave.
Ungrateful? She shivered at the word that brought
Meskhenet’s predicament to mind. Pushing aside a problem
she could not let clutter her mind, she said as she had not
thought she would ever say sincerely to Reverend Fairfield,
“Thank you.”
“I’m speaking the truth. Hastings, your prejudice about
Darcy’s background is in complete contrast with your
interest in Egypt and its ancient ways.” He held up his
hands and laughed. “Not that your pastor should persuade
you to continue such studies. However, I believe you shall
continue to discover many interesting things that will add
much enjoyment to the rest of your life.”
“You do?” asked Hastings.
“The rest of your long life.” The vicar picked up his
glass and said, “To a long life for you, Hastings.”
The old man grinned like a child, but Simon’s smile
was more restrained. Darcy knew he was worried about
his father getting too emotional and imperiling his heart.
When Simon changed the topic, the other men joined in
with a bonhomie that had been missing when Darcy came
into the room.
She was relieved to be able to withdraw after dessert.
Going into the library, she went out on the raised terrace
and gazed up at the stars. These were the same ones visible
when the story of Meskhenet and her lover was first told.
But, for the first time, she was leery of continuing the tale.
Too much happening in it seemed to parallel her life here,
for, just like Meskhenet, she feared she was falling in love
with the wrong man.
Eleven
Night had claimed the gardens. A cool breeze ruffled
Darcy’s sleeves, but she did not return inside. She needed
to avoid seeing anyone until she sorted out her thoughts.
Was she really falling in love with Simon? She had never
imagined losing her heart to such an arrogant man, for her
ideal had been closer to Kafele.
She folded her hands on the terrace wall. Simon was
as self-assured as Kafele and as dedicated to his work.
Further, Simon was committed to seeing to his father’s
well-being which kept Simon at Rosewood Hall when she
suspected he would prefer to be far from the reminder of
his mother’s and sister’s deaths. It was that devotion and
sense of duty she found appealing. And his touch . . . She
silenced a moan of yearning. His eager passions were
undeniably bewitching.
Darcy turned at the call of her name in the voice filling
her fantasies.
Silhouetted by the light from the library, Simon walked
toward her. He held out a glass of lemonade.
She took it. “Thank you.”
“Andrew has taken his leave, and Father has retired. I
thought it would be a good time for a private conversation.”
He walked past her to lean on the low wall. “This afternoon
was—”
“Don’t say again it was a mistake.”
“That was not my intention.” He took a sip from his
glass. “The words I was going to use were ‘not
unexpected.’”
She wished he would not speak in such cool, unfeeling
terms. “What do you mean? That I have been in your
thoughts?”
“Yes, but not only that.” Setting his glass on the wall,
he put his hands on her waist and lifted her to sit beside it.
He framed her face with his hands. “I knew how wondrous
it would be to hold you so intimately. Not with the
knowledge of a man’s fantasy for a desirable woman, but
with the knowledge of having done so before.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Then explain it to me. I admit to being utterly
baffled.”
Darcy laughed ruefully. “I understand the sense of
knowing, for I share it. I don’t understand why either of
us feel it, or why this belief I have met you before I came
to Rosewood Hall persists.”
“It’s vexing, isn’t it?” Leaning again against the wall,
he picked up his glass and rested his other hand on the
stones behind her. Even though he did not touch her, she
was aware of every inch of him so deliciously near. “I
wonder why we’re suffering from this delusion. It seems
so unlikely we actually met before you arrived here, for I
daresay I would have been a cur to forget you.”
And I can’t imagine forgetting you, she almost said.
Silencing the words that would betray too much, she
replied, “I agree it unlikely we met before. I was in Egypt
when I was just a child. When you went to India, I was at
Miss Mumsey’s school.”
He flinched as if his lemonade had started to boil. He
placed the glass back onto the wall. “I guess not much
stays unknown long in Rosewood Hall.”
“Reverend Fairfield told me you went there. To study?”
“To serve Queen Victoria. What else did he tell you?”
“Only that you seemed comfortable to stay here as
you had not been before you left.”
“Nothing else?”
“No. Should he have told me something else?”
“He seems resolved to let you know about every bit of
my past.”
“Just that.” She hurried on when she could see his lips
clench in pain. “Did you visit Egypt on your way to or
from India?”
“I did not have a chance to stop in Egypt.” He raised
his hand toward her cheek, then lowered it. “I have heard
it is wondrous.”
“It is.”
“Tell me what you remember.”
Darcy was startled by his request, but she happily
described the city along the Nile where she had lived. As
she spoke about the river bordered by ruins, she did not
hold back her enthusiasm for her birthplace. Simon asked
questions about the city beyond Jaddeh’s house, and she
realized how little she knew. Enough people had come
through the stone gate, bringing many interesting tales of
Egypt, and she shared those with Simon.
She was not surprised he was so curious. Her life had
fascinated everyone she met until they learned of her
parentage. Before she had been torn from her life in Egypt,
she had considered her life quite commonplace. At
boarding school, she had discovered the cost of being
different from her classmates.
“That is why I’m looking forward to returning to Egypt
soon,” she ended as she gazed up at the stars slowly being
consumed by a bank of clouds.
“Darcy, it ha
s been fifteen years since you left.” He
turned to face her, his arm now curved around her. “You
have only a child’s memories of it.”
“Happy memories. The happiest of my life.” Until you
took me into your arms. She warned her rebellious mind
to silence.
“What will you do when you get there? Work for some
Englishman who is interested in excavating out the tombs
of your ancestors? What did you call it? Raping the past?
Is that the life you want?”
Recoiling at his abruptly harsh words, she took a sip
of her lemonade before answering in the most even tone
she could manage, “What I do is my own concern.”
“And that’s that?”
“Why not?” When she met his eyes steadily, she was
not surprised he did not lower his before her anger. “Why
should it matter to you whether I go to work in London or
Cairo when your book is finished? With what you’re
paying me in addition to my savings, I can finally afford
my ticket to Egypt. Maybe I’m wrong to go back there,
but I shall never know unless I take the risk. I can’t spend
the rest of my life lamenting ‘what ifs.’”
Simon nodded. “I once felt the way you do. I miss that
yearning to discover what lies beyond the next hill. It was
in India with its multitude of languages and dialects I
realized how much I wanted to study the origin of the words
we share.”
“And when your book is done? What will you do
then?”
“I have given that far less thought than you have.”
Darcy started to reply, but was halted by his hand
brushing back wisps of hair from her face. Her breath
seared her chest as his stare captivated her. All rational
thought fled as she delighted in the warmth of his leg
brushing hers through the fine material of her dress.
He slanted toward her. Hearing her breath coming
sultry and fast, she gazed into his shadowed eyes. She did
not need any light to know shimmering passion glowed
there. Since the first time he kissed her, she had never
doubted he wanted her.
As his warm breath slipped along her neck, her soft
gasp of delight broke the steady rhythm of the insects
singing through the night. His lips burned an abstract
pattern into her skin. Her eyes closed while she succumbed
to the craving as his tongue teased the half-circle of her
ear. She could not imagine wanting anything as much as
his mouth on hers. Twisting her fingers through his hair,
she guided his lips toward hers.
“What the—?” he gasped, pulling away.
Darcy looked over her shoulder as he was. For a
second, she thought she saw the filmy light which she had
first seen in his office. Then it was gone.
“What was that?” Simon asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Is that what you saw when you started asking about
Rosewood Hall being haunted?”
She nodded.
He stood and walked past her. He swung his hand in
the air. “I’ve heard ghosts leave a lingering cold, but there’s
nothing like that here.”
“You would have noticed any chill when you walked
through one of those lights in your office.” She slid off the
wall, carefully tugging at her dress where it had caught on
a stone. “You didn’t seem to notice anything.”
“One of those lights? Have you seen more than one?”
“Yes.”
Shaking his head, he said, “This is insane, and we’re
insane to be talking of this. Ghosts are the stuff of stories.
Even if they were real, why hasn’t anyone seen a ghost in
Rosewood Hall before?” He took a deep swig of his
lemonade. “I believe these ‘ghosts’ are the result of too
much wine and too little sleep.”
“But you saw it with your own eyes.”
“Something that appears and disappears like
moonlight?” He laughed tautly. “I’m ready to admit I let
my eyes trick me. You should do the same.”
“I can’t.” She put her hands on his arms. “You have
no idea how much I wish to, but I can’t.”
“You must. If you don’t, you’ll be considered mad.”
Darcy pushed past him as she saw another flicker.
“Look. There it is!”
“What?”
“Lights in the garden.”
He walked back to the wall. Leaning on it, he peered
into the darkness. “I don’t see anything.”
“There.”
“Where?”
“Just beyond the maze.”
“Where?”
She went to stand beside him, pointing at the trace of
light visible through the bushes and trees. “Look into the
woods.”
Pushing back from the wall, he said, “Then it’s
probably nothing more than swamp gas. It often glows in
the bogs near the moor.”
“It’s not swamp gas. I have seen it in the garden.”
He scowled. “I have had enough of this discussion.
I’m returning to my office.” He walked toward the door,
then turned. “Are you coming along?”
“No, for we should go and find out who’s in the woods.
If they start a fire, it could spread to the gardens and the
house.”
“I won’t waste my time chasing swamp gas. Just when
I think you’re a somewhat reasonable woman, you make
hysterical comments like this.”
“Just when I think you’re a somewhat reasonable man,
you bury your head in your work so you can ignore the
truth,” she fired back.
His eyes widened, but he continued into the house.
She heard the door to his office slam. Looking to her right,
she could see him stamping past the desk she used. He
paused by the window. Was he trying to see if she was
still on the terrace?
She sighed as the draperies were yanked closed over
the window and the French door. Even though Simon found
her desirable, he did not want her to interfere with his too-
well-ordered life or force him to confront his too-well-
ordered opinions.
Darcy looked across the garden. The lights were still
there. She longed to believe Simon when he averred they
were caused by a miasma from the swamp, but she could
not. Yet going out into the night alone was silly.
She smiled. She did not need to go alone. Going into
the library, she went to the bellpull and gave her request
to the maid who answered it. She was glad to see, by the
time she went to her bedroom and came back down the
stairs with a cloak and her bonnet, a footman was waiting
there.
“You want us to go out tonight?” he asked when she
told him her plans. His face blanched. “Miss Kincaid, folks
don’t go out at dark. The moors have all kinds of bad things
roaming about after dark.”
“We aren’t going to the moors. Just out past the maze.
That should be far enough.”
“Too far,” he muttered, but he followed her out onto
the terrace.
In
spite of her vow not to, Darcy glanced at the
windows to Simon’s office. Light edged around them, and
she suspected he was lost in his work again. Maybe
Reverend Fairfield had been right to be concerned, for
Simon sought that haven too often.
She pulled her wool cape more tightly around her
shoulders as she walked down the steps to the upper garden.
Damp oozed through her slippers, and she wished she had
taken time to change from them and her best gown into
something more appropriate. It was too late now. She had
to discover what was happening in the garden.
Her worry the lights would have disappeared was eased
when she saw them among the trees. More of them than
before, for she counted at least a dozen lights. Two groups
of them, she realized when she saw more lights entering
the forest from the right.
“Are you familiar with these gardens?” she asked the
footman.
“Yes, Miss Kincaid.” His admission was reluctant.
“The hill that drops down into the village is to our
right, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Miss Kincaid.”
“Then you go in that direction and find out what you
can. Don’t let anyone see you until we know who is in the
woods. Hurry back to the house and meet me in the library.”
“Yes, Miss Kincaid. I’ll hurry right back after
checking.” Relief brightened his voice.
Darcy watched him rush off, and she hoped he would
slow before he tumbled down the hill and into the
vicarage’s back garden. She walked in the other direction,
fighting her own urge to turn around and go back to the
house. Her curiosity refused to let her.
At the far side of the garden, she edged past the huge
wall of shrubs. What a hedgerow was doing in the middle
of the well-trimmed garden, she could not fathom. Then
she realized it must be one side of the maze. She had not
guessed its walls would be so high, for they towered almost
ten feet from the ground.
She paused beside the maze, searching for the lights.
She saw several directly in front of her, blinking as if being
turned on and off, and knew she was seeing them carried
among the trees.
Wishing she had not sent the footman to check on the
other set of lights, she slipped from the shadows of the
maze and hurried toward the small wood. She doubted if
Ferguson, J. A. - Call Back Yesterday.txt Page 19