by Robyn DeHart
“If the Stone of Destiny was added during construction, I suspect we’ll find it on one of the exterior walls.”
“Everything on the floors above has been reconstructed,” Esme said. When her husband eyed her suspiciously, she shrugged. “Mr. Randolph gave me an extensive tour while you were in the village asking questions.”
“Any part of the tour include an original part of the abbey?” Graeme asked.
She looked upward as if scanning her mind for the answer, then she smiled. “Yes, the chapel.” She moved away from the dining room. “This way.”
They followed her down a long, darkened hallway that led them directly to two double doors opening into the small chapel. Graeme lit the wall sconces, and the warm firelight scattered over the sanctuary.
Seven wooden pews were lined up in the middle of the room, and the altar still hosted the carved wood pulpit where the priest would have given his homilies.
“We didn’t look around in here on our tour. He merely opened the door and showed me the inside,” Esme said.
“Well, it certainly looks original,” Vanessa said, running her hand over one of the pews. “It’s not as polished as the rest of the abbey.”
“I don’t think this part of the abbey was destroyed, so that’s probably the reason Randolph never touched it,” Graeme said.
“So we’re looking for a stone,” Fielding said. “Like the one in Westminster?”
“Precisely,” Graeme said.
Four arched windows lined the right exterior wall, while the wall behind the altar was solid stone. Together they made their way to the wall.
Graeme watched Vanessa run her hands over the stones with purpose. She had no claim to this journey of his, yet every day she worked beside him. Tirelessly. And rarely, if ever, complained. She expressed interest in his work and research. Granted, she was a curious sort; still her understanding moved him. She was a good mate for him. A good partner.
She was beautiful and intelligent, and she made him laugh. Precisely the sort of woman he would have searched for had he known they existed. In his previous experience, women were either smart or attractive, but rarely both. They would have a good marriage together; a good partnership. No matter what, he vowed to never desert her the way his father had done. Nor would he ever ask her to leave, or make her feel as if she wasn’t a welcome addition to his life.
“It has to be here somewhere,” she said.
“Unless it was removed or destroyed,” Graeme offered. But he didn’t stop examining their surroundings. He’d come too far in this damned quest to stop. Though he longed to return the Stone of Destiny to the Scots, he knew it belonged in Solomon’s, with the rest of the Kingmaker, for safekeeping.
Graeme ran his hands over the wall once more, but still felt nothing save the cold, uneven surface of the stones and mortar. He stepped up into the pulpit, getting a better glimpse of the carvings. His foot hit something as he entered the priest’s lectern, and a loud thump sounded around him.
“Vanessa! Quick, grab my hand.” She did as he bade, and he had barely pulled her against his body when the floor beneath them began to shift. There was another loud noise and they began to sink, the floor shifting downward.
“We’ll stay here, and if you don’t come out, we’ll find a way to get to you,” Fielding said.
“Good luck,” Esme added.
“A lift,” Vanessa said, her voice tinged with wonder. “These monks were highly advanced in their technology.” She allowed him to hold on to her, but she held her lantern out and watched as they sank farther and farther below, the cold darkness covering them up to their waists and then chests. “Where do you think it leads?”
“I’m not certain, but we’ve got to be on the right track.”
“I believe you are correct,” she said.
The darkness surrounded them until they were completely swallowed below. The area around them was icy, and the echoes traveled far.
“Clever monks,” she said.
“Indeed,” Graeme said with a smile.
Finally the lift jerked to a stop, and they found themselves in a much smaller area. Their lanterns didn’t disperse much light, but gingerly Graeme stepped off the lift and motioned for her to follow. Vanessa exhaled slowly, trying to relax the excitement in her stomach.
They walked closely together to investigate the space. Gooseflesh covered Vanessa’s skin. “It’s very cold,” she said, then rolled her eyes at her need to state the obvious.
“And dark,” Graeme added, which only served to make her smile. Her husband had a keen sense of humor. He was quick and witty, and she couldn’t help but appreciate it. Graeme lit their lanterns, then used the match to also light the torches attached to the wall.
They were in a hallway directly beneath the chapel, made of four solid stone walls. The wall at the end of the narrow room looked to be made entirely of sandstone bricks, all of them slightly reddish in color, different from the rest of the stone walls they’d seen. “It could be any one of these,” she murmured.
“Precisely.” Graeme didn’t seem unnerved or frustrated, merely intrigued and focused. His shrewd gaze never left the wall, and when he stepped forward toward the wall he nearly lost his footing. It was only then that they realized there was no floor between where they stood and the stone wall.
Vanessa grabbed Graeme’s jacket and pulled backward. “You almost fell,” she said, her heart thundering in her ears.
“So I did. Evidently the monks were not only clever, but diabolical as well.” He crouched down to better examine the area in front of them. “Shine your lantern outward.”
She did as he bade and shone the light over the empty space in front of them. It no longer appeared empty. Instead, spanning the length of the gap between them and the stone wall were a series of bridges. Several boards of differing breadths traversed the area.
“With so many options, this seems like a test. Which one do we take?” she asked.
“That does appear to be the question,” he said.
Graeme came to his feet, and one by one he examined the bridges, pressing his hand against them. He would find the way across, and he would know the stone when he found it. This was his quest, his passion.
Vanessa understood that, understood the overwhelming desire to prove something, whether to prove it merely to yourself or to prove it to others. It was the primary foundation between the two of them, something they would be able to stand upon together for years to come. Perhaps she could have the science-minded marriage she had sought.
Of course, all of that depended on him keeping his hands off of her so she could keep her wits about her. If other women felt this way with their husbands, no wonder they fancied themselves in love. No wonder they became simpletons with nothing more in their brains than dresses and flirtations.
Well, Vanessa had no intention of allowing that to happen to her. If that meant she had to spend less time in Graeme’s bed, then so be it. She would have to comply every now and again. She couldn’t forsake her wifely duties—she wasn’t without certain conventions.
But to allow him to touch her whenever he wanted was out of the question. And she did not have the strength necessary to deny him. One simple kiss, and she’d be lost. She’d never again accomplish anything.
Even now, just thinking about him, she could feel her body betraying her, distracting her beyond reason. As if her memory could recall the sensations of their last lovemaking, her breasts tightened. She closed her eyes and took a deep and even breath.
“In the image of the tapestry,” Graeme said, “the knight was placing the stone into a partially constructed wall.”
Vanessa shook herself, annoyed that even the mere thought of his touch could so easily distract her from the task at hand. She was supposed to be assisting him, not standing here like a schoolgirl mooning over him. Perhaps she was deficient in some capacity, more susceptible to a lover’s touch, as even the mere thought of it made her reasoning disappear.
> “So you think it’s one of the ones in the center of that wall?” she asked.
He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. From this angle, they all look the same.”
“I suppose you’ll only know if you try,” she said.
“Very true.” He took off his jacket and handed it to her. “You stay on this side.” He put her pouch of tools into the waistband of his trousers, then went to stand in front of the bridges. The one directly in front of him was wide, large enough for him to simply walk across. It certainly appeared to be the most sturdy of the group. The other boards varied in breadth, the one on the far left being the most narrow.
He put his foot on the wide plank in front of him and pressed downward; it held steady. “Here goes.” Graeme lifted his other foot off the ledge and set it on the bridge. It remained firm. He turned to face her. “It appears I’ve found the right one.”
But the words were no sooner out of this mouth than the board cracked. Vanessa grabbed his arm with both her hands just as the wood gave way, and he fell. He grabbed onto the ledge and hoisted himself up.
“Evidently that was not the correct choice,” she said. She swallowed hard against the fear that lodged in her throat. She smacked his arm. “That scared the devil out of me.”
“I didn’t much enjoy it myself.” Together they sat and eyed the wood planks in front of them. “No more guesses,” he said.
“Yes, please.”
They were quiet for several moments. All the while Vanessa contemplated the changes in her life since she’d met Graeme. She was not yet ready to be a widow, and it was on her lips to tell him so when he spoke.
“I think I’ve found it,” Graeme murmured.
She stepped forward. “Which one?”
He pointed to the one in the far left corner.
“Why that one? Simply because it is the most narrow and therefore the most dangerous?” she asked.
“No, because narrow is the way of the righteous,” Graeme said as he came to his feet.
“Of course, how foolish of us,” she said. Then before she could think better of it, she grabbed his face and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Just in case.”
He nodded. “I believe this wall faces east, though without the sun I can’t be certain. Despite the image in the tapestry, I should think if the knights intentionally put the Stone of Destiny in this wall, they’d lay it first. The cornerstone, if you will,” Graeme said.
“Well, there are those who believe the Stone of Destiny was the cornerstone of David’s palace,” she said. “ ’Tis excellent logic.”
“True.” He exhaled slowly. Then, without another word, he stepped out onto the board. It creaked beneath his weight, but did not move. One foot and then the other, and the bridge held firm until he was on the other side.
“You know if I remove it, there could be negative repercussions.” He met her gaze. “The wall could tumble down, and we could get trapped here.” He paused for a breath. “Forever.”
Vanessa released a shaky laugh. “No, Fielding and Esme know where we are, and they’ll rescue us should something go horribly wrong.”
Vanessa couldn’t see his face clearly enough from this distance, but she could imagine his devilish grin and beautiful green eyes. Then she sucked in a breath and waited.
He put the chisel into the mortar line, then slammed his hammer against it. The noise reverberated across the chamber, echoing again and again. Little by little, he worked the mortar away until he was able to shift the stone. He inched it to the left, then the right, rocking it against the floor in an attempt to free it. A crack started in the mortar to his right and climbed up the wall, creaking as it went. Graeme stopped moving.
Vanessa stood still and watched, afraid to even exhale lest she risk blowing the wall down. She felt her eyes widen as she waited to see if the wall would crumble. But the cracking stopped, and everything fell silent again.
Graeme went back to his work until finally he was able to wiggle the stone free. He stood, holding the sandstone brick in his hands. Quickly he traversed the wood plank.
The stone was nearly identical to the one she’d seen many times in Westminster, including the divots on the backside.
“This is it,” he whispered.
“You’re certain,” she said.
“This, see.” He pointed to a small engraving that was nearly worn off. “That is the sign of King David, something that is decidedly missing from the stone in Westminster. And these”—he turned it again to show her the bottom side; there three divots were carved in a line—“are for the other stones. This is the true Stone of Destiny.”
Graeme and Vanessa made their way to the small boat they’d taken across the loch. He set the Stone of Destiny down and assisted her into the vessel before joining her. The first fingers of sunlight were caressing the edge of the horizon.
Graeme pushed off the edge, then dipped the oars in the black water and rowed. He observed Vanessa—her eyes wide as she watched the dark water move beneath the boat. Her hand reached over the edge, and her fingertips lightly grazed the water.
“Be careful or the beastie will nip your fingers,” he teased.
She jerked her hand back into her lap, never taking her eyes off the water.
His chuckle filled the quiet dawn, drawing her eyes to his face. She smiled widely at him. “You have an infectious laugh,” she said. “No matter what, it always makes me smile.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Graeme said. He allowed his gaze to roam over her. Her bent knees created a tent with her dress that pooled around her feet.
“We found it,” she said. “You finally found the Stone of Destiny. How many years have you been searching for it?”
He exhaled slowly. “Ten, maybe eleven years. Perhaps longer. I became fascinated with the legend when I was a boy, and when I would visit my mother and Old Mazie, they would speak of the story. Then I’d go back to London and go to Westminster to see the one housed there.” He shook his head. “I don’t know; it became a bit of an obsession, I suppose.”
They reached the shoreline, and Graeme pulled the boat onto the rocks. “Be careful where you step,” he reminded her. “The rocks are slippery.”
She gripped his hand while she exited the boat, and they walked the rest of the way to the cottage. Quietly, they entered, and he stopped outside her room. The Stone of Destiny fit snugly under his arm.
“Where are you taking that?” Vanessa asked with a grin.
“Well, you know what they say. If you sleep on it, you’ll dream of your future.” Graeme bent and kissed her gently before walking to his own bedchamber.
Graeme sat up abruptly. He’d shifted the covers off his legs and now could feel the chill, since the fire had probably long since faded away. He hadn’t bothered to stoke it when they’d returned. He’d been full of excited energy, then had abruptly fallen asleep, but not before maneuvering the stone beneath his pillow.
He’d been teasing Vanessa about it and hadn’t even intended to do it. But once he’d been enclosed in his room, he’d been unable to resist. It was a foolish thing, a childish fantasy to have, but who would be able to resist sleeping upon the Stone of Destiny in an attempt to glimpse your own future?
Of course, all he’d dreamt of were bones, a big pile of bones. Interesting notion. He supposed becoming a pile of bones was in everyone’s future. But he would have hoped for something a little more telling.
He lay back down, bracing his hands under his head. He stared at the dark ceiling above. Bones. But there had been something else there, too, hadn’t there? Something lying amidst the bones. He closed his eyes to try and recapture the image, but the vision seemed cloudy now, blurred by heavy sleep.
Perhaps if he fell back asleep he’d be able to remember what it was. But then he heard a noise at his door, and all his senses came to attention. Someone was in his room.
Chapter Eighteen
Vanessa quietly moved through the darkness of Graeme’s bedchamber. Sh
e crept across the rug and made her way to the large bed in the center of the room. She knew that her husband was a fairly heavy sleeper, so she should be able to uncover the stone. She only intended to borrow it for the night. While she found the superstition foolish, she could not help her curiosity.
She’d sat up in her own room for nearly an hour arguing with herself about her silly desire. She wanted a reminder, reassurance that she could survive being a wife while continuing in her own pursuits. She realized it was foolish to believe that sleeping upon a piece of stone could do that for her.
But what if she dreamed of something important about her future? Reason won in the end; after all, it was a purely scientific experiment. She would sleep one night upon the rumored prophetic stone and see if it could help her locate the rest of those bones she knew she was meant to find.
Vanessa walked alongside the bed, moving her hand gently up the mattress to avoid falling. It seemed unlikely Graeme would be so foolish as to sleep upon it himself, but she would search beneath his pillow first.
She made her way to the head of the bed and found the pillow. Her fingertips brushed across some of Graeme’s hair, and she stopped, listening for any sound that indicated she might have awakened him, but his breathing remained steady.
Slowly she slipped her hand beneath the pillow, and her fingers met cold stone. So he had decided to try it himself. She couldn’t help but smile. He did not seem to be a superstitious man, yet he too had been curious about the legend. What would he dream of? What destiny would Graeme have learned tomorrow morning when he awoke?
To remove it without waking him would take patience and skill. She tugged on the stone, and it shifted slightly beneath his pillow.
His hand clasped onto her wrist. “Looking for something?” In one quick movement, she found herself flipped onto the bed and upon her back, a large and heavy and very seductive husband atop her.
“I merely thought to—”
“To steal my treasure,” he said, his voice dark and full of sinful promise.