‘I hardly think so, with my stomach so queasy,’ she gasped.
‘It’s all those infusions you’ve been drinking,’ he teased. ‘Not to mention the vast quantity of bread and cheese you consumed at breakfast. Shocking.’
‘I worked up a great appetite last night. All your fault.’
‘Feel free to call on me whenever you feel the least bit peckish, my dear.’
She felt his steps turn, heading down a slope, and she tightened her clasp on his neck. The shadows at the edges of her blindfold grew closer, as if they entered a dense grove of trees. She heard the wind sing overhead, rustling leaves and birds stirring into flight. He turned again, the new ring of stone under his boots. They seemed to be descending stairs of some sort.
Then she heard an unexpected sound, the soft lapping of water.
‘Is it the River Styx?’ she whispered.
Edward laughed, and lowered her gently to her feet. ‘See for yourself,’ he said, untying the scarf.
For a moment, Clio’s gaze was unfocused from being in darkness. She blinked hard, and found that they had entered the underworld. An enchanted realm.
She gazed around in wonderment. They were in a cave, rough stone walls rising steeply to a skylight high above that streamed pale yellow sun down to where they stood on the bottom riser of a steep flight of flagstone steps. Below was a pool of clear blue-green water. It shimmered in the faint light, curls of silvery steam rising from its surface.
‘It’s not exactly a lake,’ Edward said. ‘And I doubt anyone could ever skate on it. But I thought you might like it.’
‘What is it?’ Clio murmured, entranced by the water, the rough designs painted on the stone walls. Sheaves of wheat and baskets of fruit, she saw, along with heavily pregnant animals and red poppies, the emblem of Demeter.
‘The Grotto of Demeter,’ he answered. ‘I was told about it when I leased the cottage. They say in ancient times acolytes of Demeter performed rites here, asking for the bounty of the harvest and a fruitful season.’
‘It is beautiful.’ She knelt down to trail her fingers through the water. It was warm and soft, as befitted a life-giving goddess. She had the sudden undeniable urge to dive into the pool, to feel its essence all around her, its promise of a bountiful future she could not yet believe in. ‘Can we swim in it? Or is that forbidden?’
Edward smiled. ‘I doubt Demeter would mind. It’s your grotto today. A new realm for the Muses.’
Clio laughed, and sat down to tug off her shoes and stockings. Her dress and chemise quickly followed, and she eased herself into the welcoming embrace of the waters. The pool wasn’t very deep; she could rest her feet on the sandy bottom, letting the waves lap over her shoulders. Her loose hair floated around her, and her limbs felt buoyant, as if the water held her up, above all the cares of mortal life.
‘It is wonderful!’ she cried, her voice echoing around them. ‘You come in, too, Edward.’
He smiled at her delight, kneeling down by the edge. His gaze was tender, and strangely wistful. ‘In a minute.’
She eased down until she could float on her back, staring at the sky so far overhead. It was their own underworld indeed, a magical place of old ritual and prayer. A place where all truths were revealed and forgiven. Loves lost and won—and lost again.
But for that moment, she felt only a sweet lassitude, a healing contentment that washed over her with the water.
‘When I was a girl, my sisters and I used to go swimming in a pond at Chase Lodge,’ she said. ‘My mother forbade us to do it, but we would sneak off and do it anyway when she and my father were in town. We couldn’t help it, it was the most fun! We would swing out over the water from a tree branch and dive in, pretending to be mermaids and pirates. But it was cold and murky, nothing like this.’
As she floated there on her back, she heard the soft rustle as he shed his clothes and slid into the water. The waves splashed, signalling his swim to her side. She felt his touch on her bare skin, holding her aloft.
‘I missed having lots of siblings when I was a boy,’ he said. ‘Brothers and sisters to swim and ride with, to make up games and tell ghost stories with on rainy nights. William was so much older, and not much for games anyway.’
Clio laughed. ‘We certainly did all those things, true, but we also argued and fussed, and pulled each other’s hair and called each other names. Well, Thalia and I pulled each other’s hair; Calliope was too good. She was our peacemaker. I sometimes wished I was an only child, so I would have time to study in peace.’
‘Would you really have been able to do without your family?’
She dove down under the water, getting her feet beneath her before she plunged back upwards. She pushed her hair back over her shoulders, smiling at him. ‘No, of course not. I adore my sisters, though they also drive me mad sometimes.’
‘Drive you mad?’
‘They are always there, you see. We aren’t ourselves, we’re a collective—the Chase Muses. Part of each other for all time. It means we always have each other to rely on, but it also means we are obligated. Always and for ever.’ Clio paused. She had never spoken of such things before, never even really thought about them. But somehow, here with Edward in their sacred grotto, she felt she could say anything at all. That all her thoughts and dreams and fears would be understood by him, and him alone.
‘I think perhaps that is one of the reasons I decided to become the Lily Thief,’ she said.
‘Because of your sisters?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yes. Oh, there were the antiquities, of course—that was the most important. To save them from people who did not care for them, to make sure they went to where they truly belong. But also it was something I could do. A cause just for me, a secret. It was wrong, I see that now. I went about my ideals in entirely the wrong way. Seeing the disappointment in Calliope’s eyes was the most horrible feeling. But for a while…’
‘For a while you felt truly alive.’
‘Yes,’ Clio said, surprised. ‘How did you know?’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘Because I know what it is to feel numb, dead inside, to try to feel something, anything, by doing things we’re told are wrong. But it didn’t work, not for me or for you. It was as if I watched the world in shades of hazy grey, never vivid, clear colour. Not until now. Your red hair is the first real colour I see.’
Clio feared she might cry. She had gone through years with no tears, only to become a veritable watering pot when she was near Edward! She swallowed hard against the dry, hard knot in her throat and said, ‘It is auburn, I will thank you to remember.’
Edward laughed, catching her around the waist and lifting her high, twirling her through the frothing water. ‘It is red! Everything about you is painted in the most vivid of hues, Clio Chase. Red, and emerald green, and sun yellow. You’re all the heat and noise and passion I’ve ever known.’
Clio laughed, too, giddy with the emotion of it all. She braced her hands on his shoulders, staring down at him as the steam rose around him in a silver veil. She had thought him handsome before, but in that moment he looked so young and free, his beauty positively incandescent. Her golden Sicilian god. ‘I am noisy, that’s true.’
‘You are life itself,’ he insisted, lowering her slowly back into the water. They stood there entwined, part of each other in the ancient magic of that place. ‘You saved me.’
‘No, no. You saved yourself.’
‘I turned myself from a careless boy to a semblance of a duke, I suppose,’ he said. ‘I gave up taverns for the dusty halls of the Antiquities Society. Yet I could not have done it without your disapproval.’
‘Ah, well, I am good at disapproval. I managed to keep it up with you for years.’
‘I know. I still feel the stinging effects of it,’ he said, laughing as he reached up to touch the faint white scar on his brow where the Alabaster Goddess had once landed.
Clio kissed that scar, filled with a sudden rush of remorse at the violent mem
ory. ‘I’m so sorry, Edward! I never—’
‘No, I deserved it. My wooing of you was—rough, to say the least. But do you still disapprove of me? After everything?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s true that you should not have snatched me away like that. It’s surely something the “old” Edward would have done! I know that you have your reasons, but you could have talked to me. Explained things.’
‘I only wanted to keep you safe. And time was, is, so short. I couldn’t come up with anything else. I’m sorry.’
‘No, I don’t want your apologies.’ She laid her hands gently against his face, holding his gaze on hers. There could be no running away now, for either of them. No more deception. ‘I want to know what is really happening.’
‘Clio.’ He pressed his fingers over hers, holding her to him. ‘It is dangerous.’
‘Come now. You know me better than anyone ever has. You know I do not shrink from danger. I want to help you, if I can.’ She studied him closely. ‘I know it’s to do with the silver. Are you here to take it for yourself?’
He shook his head, turning to kiss her wrist. ‘Surely you know me better than that. I have given up adding to my own collection, though pieces like the silver would be tempting indeed.’
‘Then what? You’re working with the Antiquities Society again, like in Yorkshire?’
‘I am trying to.’ He was silent for a long moment, as if weighing his options, weighing her words. Finally, he nodded. He took her hand and led her to a stone bench cut into the wall beneath the waterline.
‘The bowl that I have,’ he said, ‘it came to the attention of the Antiquities Society last year, along with the information that there was certainly more where it was found. Could be an entire temple’s altar set, the likes of which have never been discovered before. But it was in danger of being lost before it could even be seen.’
‘Who discovered it?’
‘Mr Darby, who is, as you know, also a member of the Antiquities Society. He is taking a report back to London. Soon before you arrived here, an informant brought Darby the bowl and told him of the search for more.’
‘What sort of informant?’
‘A former tombarolo. He claimed he sought more legitimate ways of making money, but I think he just wanted to play both sides for greater profit. It availed him naught, as he was soon after found dead. But his information seemed legitimate, and I was asked to come to Sicily and help investigate further. We had to hope it was not too late.’
‘And did you know I was here?’
‘No. I knew you were travelling with your family in Italy, but not in Sicily. I assumed you wanted to be as far from me as possible, after what happened in Yorkshire.’
Indeed she had, Clio remembered ruefully. Had longed to run from him, from what she felt and yet could not understand. Her father’s suggestion they go abroad for a time was a godsend. ‘Would you have stayed away if you had known?’
He laughed. ‘On the contrary. I would have travelled here even faster.’
Clio laughed, too. ‘Perhaps you should have! We’ve wasted so much time being angry. Not—not seeing. But tell me the rest of your tale. Have you found the silver yet? Any piece of it?’
‘Not yet, but luckily it seems that neither have the thieves. You have got in their way.’
‘Me?’
‘Your work at the farmhouse. That is where it’s thought the silver will be found. Before your arrival, no one ever went there, and the thieves could work in leisurely peace. When they could find people willing to brave the curse, that is. Now…’
‘So, that is why you warned me away!’
‘Of course. These are ruthless men. They would get you out of their way however they could.’
Clio shook her head, furious that thieves would dare defile her farmhouse! Dare sully the lives of those who had lived there, had buried that silver in fear and frantic hope so long ago. This belongs to the gods. ‘The English buyer grows impatient,’ she said, remembering the conversation she overheard at the feste.
‘Yes. That’s why you are now in greater danger. Why I kidnapped you.’
‘Who is the English, then, that has the money to command such a flock of thieves?’ Including, it seemed, Rosa’s Giacomo.’
‘At first we thought Ronald Frobisher.’
‘Lady Riverton’s cicisbeo?’ Clio said, somewhat surprised. She would not have thought of him; he always seemed merely concerned with his neckcloths and planning parties, staying in the good graces of Lady Riverton. She should have remembered appearances were almost always deceiving.
‘He seems to have the money, and he’s quite an ardent collector, if something of a neophyte. Possessing a silver altar set would gain him attention and respect among other collectors. And with Lady Riverton.’
‘Very true. No one else has anything like that, not that I know of.’
‘If you had known, would the Lily Thief have struck again?’
Clio laughed. ‘I told you, my thieving days are behind me. Except for the night I broke into your palazzo, of course. But you said you did suspect Frobisher. Do you not any longer?’
‘Oh, he is part of it. It seems, though, that he is acting on behalf of someone else.’
‘Of course,’ Clio breathed, feeling suddenly foolish. ‘Someone he wants to impress above any other. Lady Riverton.’
‘Indeed,’ Edward answered. ‘When I first came to Santa Lucia, I did not suspect her, either. Lord Riverton was a great collector, but she never really seemed to share his interest.’
‘No. Only hats and parties. I should have known no one could be that interested in bonnets without having something to hide.’
‘I couldn’t understand why she was in a quiet place like Santa Lucia, and not in Naples. Only people with a great interest in history and antiquities come here.’
‘I just thought she wanted to play social queen for a while, in a place where no one else has time to throw lavish parties,’ Clio said reflectively. ‘Father and Thalia enjoyed her entertainments well enough, and I didn’t think of it all very much. What a cabbage-head I was!’
‘Then we are cabbage-heads together, surely.’
‘Are you quite certain it is Lady Riverton?’
‘Not completely. But the list of suspects is short, and she and Frobisher are at the top.’
Clio tipped her head back against the stone wall, staring up at the skylight as her thoughts whirled. ‘We have to find out for sure.’
‘We?’ He shook his head. ‘No, Clio.’
‘Yes!’ she cried. She turned to him in growing excitement, clasping both his hands in hers. ‘You said yourself you cannot lock me up to keep me safe.’
He shook his head again, his lips set in a stubborn frown. ‘That does not mean I will put you right on the path of danger.’
‘I am not like the silver, you know,’ she insisted. ‘You cannot hide me away. I may not have seen the truth of Lady Riverton, but I can help you. I have worked with people like that, I know how they think. How they act.’
‘No! If you were hurt…’
‘I won’t be hurt! Did anything happen to me when I was the Lily Thief?’
‘Only because you were lucky.’
‘Lucky, yes. But also I was not stupid. I won’t be stupid now, either! Please. Let me help you find the silver. We can’t let it be lost.’
He stared down at her, his green eyes dark and full of stern doubts. She did not turn from him, just held on to his hands, willing him to believe in her. To see that she could be strong, and they could achieve so very much together.
‘I am not a porcelain doll,’ she said. ‘I don’t crack easily, and you know that. I can help you, if you will just give me a chance.’ She pressed kisses to the white scar on his brow, the crooked line of his nose. ‘You will be there to protect me, I know.’
Finally, finally, she sensed him wavering the merest bit. He shook his head again, but said, ‘Very well. I know that your help will be invaluable. I have
seen what you can do. But you must promise me you will be careful, that you will take cover at the first hint of any danger.’
‘Thank you!’ she cried, kissing him again in a burst of jubilant excitement. ‘You will not be sorry. We will find the villain, whether it’s Lady Riverton or not, and they will lead us to the silver. You must promise me something, though.’
‘What is it?’ he said. He still looked most wary, but she knew that would soon change. Once he saw the full potential of all they could be together.
‘That you will also be careful. For you are quite precious, as well.’
He caught her in a fierce embrace, his mouth finding hers in a kiss full of passion and desperation. Clio wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, feeling his manhood lengthen and harden against her, as he walked up the sloping ground to the dry side of the grotto. Passion born of danger and anticipation blossomed between them, undeniable as a tidal wave. He pressed her back against the wall and entered her, fast and full of need, lust, fear and—and hope.
Clio arched against him, melding him to her even deeper, until she didn’t know where he ended and she began. They were, and always had been, as one. And there, in that ancient grotto, she gave him her whole heart. In that moment she was his.
Not that she would tell him that, of course. He would only take that as a sign he should marry her and lock her up for all time. And she would make a terrible, miserable captive-duchess.
But for that instant, as their bodies and kisses and souls melded, she loved him. And it had to be enough.
Later, Clio lay at the edge of the pool, revelling in the feel of the warm water lapping at her feet, the broken sunlight that fell over them from high above. Edward’s head rested on her naked stomach, and she ran her fingers through his loose hair, smiling at the absolute perfection of that moment, the gentle, sweet lassitude that had stolen over her in the wake of their lovemaking.
She laughed in a sudden burst of irrepressible merriment, kicking out at the water and sending a blue-green spray high in the air. Edward rolled over, grinning up at her.
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