Chapter Twelve

L ady Rose pointed out the coach window. “There’s the lake I told you about.”

Dory rode in the coach with only Rose and Lady Enderly, the men preferring to ride their horses so as to have a friendly race with which to entertain the ladies later. She leaned forward to look. “So we are not far, then?”

“Not at all. I cannot wait to spend the day outside.”

She agreed. The last three days, the weather had not cooperated, forcing them to remain inside. Though the men had been able to hunt every morning, the rains had come every afternoon, forcing all the ladies to stay in the house, while the men played billiards and whatever else they did. She was not privy to the arrangements. The evenings, though, had been fun with charades, whist, and buzz, with which she found she had particular skill, though she’d never played it before. Though some of the men, particularly Lord Harewood, Lord Sommerset, and Lord Enderly, had not participated, choosing to simply watch. There had even been a skit performed by some of the ladies.

But she was much more excited for today. She’d worn a bright-blue dress to complement the sunny skies. They were traveling to the standing stone called “the Devil’s Stone.” It sounded quite ominous, but Rose said it was just old folklore and it really wasn’t that large. Supposedly, there had been two others, but only one remained. In her opinion, the best part of the day would be eating al fresco , as the Italians called it. She’d never eaten in a field before, though she’d taken a meal outside at a table many a time at home and at other events.

The coach slowed, and she craned her neck to see the venue, but all she could see was a row of trees with a field beyond on Rose’s side and a building on her side. On the building, a sign hung above the door boasting what looked like a pedestal and over it in an arch were the words The Jumps Inn .

“Rose, I want you to spend some time getting to know Lord Manning.” Lady Enderly pulled on her gloves. “He is heir to the Duke of Richmond, and according to your father, he has good views.”

Rose nodded dutifully. “Will I be seated next to him tonight as well?”

“Of course. And, Lady Dorothea, you will be seated next to my son tonight. I apologize that it could not be someone else, but the rotation wasn’t working any other way.”

Not unhappy about the news, Dory nodded, holding back a grin. “I understand. I will endeavor to engage those around me to the best of my ability.”

“Good.” Lady Enderly rose as the door to the coach opened.

Rose grabbed her hand and squeezed before whispering. “At least I know Lord Manning isn’t interested in me. That is a relief.” She let go and moved forward as her mother exited the coach, following her out with the help of the footman.

Finally, Dory moved forward to the opening.

Lord Manning, dressed in a brown tailcoat and beige pantaloons, stood just outside the conveyance and held his hand up. “May I help you down, Lady Dorothea?”

She jerked her gaze to the right to see Lady Enderly’s back was turned as she walked toward the next coach with Rose in tow. Relieved the marchioness hadn’t noticed, Dory met Lord Manning’s gaze. “I would be most grateful.”

Once her feet had made it to solid ground, Lord Manning pulled her hand to his arm. “If you would allow me, I thought you would be interested in seeing the standing stone.”

Immediately, her curiosity rose. “I understand there used to be three stones.”

He started them forward in a leisurely stroll. “To be truthful, I do not know. I suggest we discover the truth for ourselves.”

She glanced around the area to see everyone moving in the same direction in groups of three and four. She did not see Lord Harewood anywhere, but Rose strolled arm and arm with Lady Arabella. “I think that’s a lovely idea.”

“Now, I did talk to the stableboy and he said there was only one stone, the Devil’s Stone.”

She looked askance at him. His lips were turned up as if amused by his own story. Though she had already been told the name of the stone, she was interested in what he had discovered. “The Devil’s Stone.”

“Yes, the tale goes that the Devil caught a man in this very field playing the game leapfrog on the sabbath. The Devil joined the man and on his third jump grabbed the unholy soul and took him to hell. The three stones sprouted up where the Devil had jumped.”

She pressed her hand to her chest. “What an awful tale. Should we even go near the stones? Might we too be in danger?” She barely kept from smiling.

Lord Manning slowed their walk and looked at her, his brows knit in concern. “I would not allow anything to happen to you. I promise.”

She finally grinned, chuckling. “I do appreciate your kindness, but as it is not Sunday and I do not believe I can play leapfrog in my dress, I don’t believe we have anything to fear.”

Understanding dawned and his brows lifted. “Very good observations. Also, there is a church nearby, so I believe we will be safe.” He pointed to the north, where she could just see the top of a bell tower.

“I fear that we may be too far from such holy walls, but as we are with so many others, I’m sure we will be safe.”

He nodded, evidently still not quite understanding her humor.

They came to a stop with the others in a circle around the stone, and she was thankful only half of the party had arrived yet because the stone was so unimpressive as to be fairly engulfed by them all.

Rose stepped forward, bent her knees a bit, and laid her hand on the top of the stone. “This is the Devil’s Stone. It’s just a wee one, so there is no need to fear.”

The gathering laughed before turning back the way they’d come. Obviously, this had simply been an excuse for an outdoor journey, and no one seemed to mind.

But Dory wished to investigate further. Slipping her hand from Lord Manning’s arm, she crouched down to examined the stone, which came to no more than two feet high. “It does look old. Maybe the other two stones are even smaller and so not as noticeable.” She rose, looking around as she did. “Maybe only the tops of them are above the soil.”

“Do you mean to say the Devil has uneven jumps?”

She looked over her shoulder at him to see his brows raised in question. “Or mayhap he jumped too hard the first and last time.” She pointed toward the north of the stone. “I’ll take this side. You take that side.”

He didn’t look pleased with that idea. “Why don’t we both take the same side?”

She set her hand to her hip. “Because we can cover more area my way.” When he continued to frown, she shook her head at him. “Don’t you want to get back to the activities?”

He shrugged. “I’m perfectly happy here.”

Heaven save her from stubborn men. Exasperated, she gave up and began walking the ground looking for anything that could resemble the stone. After going a ways alone, she turned back to find that Lord Manning was doing the same. At least he was helpful. “Did you find anything?”

“No.” He didn’t look at her, continuing to walk in a pattern.

That was probably what she should have done. “How far do you think a devil jumps?”

He stopped at that. “Now that I think upon it, the next jump could be in the next town.”

She shook her head. “No, you said the Devil came upon a man in this field.” She looked north and then south. “This is a very big field.”

“Yes, it is, and I’m growing hungry. Would you be willing to leave the search for a while so that we may eat?”

“I would be amenable to that arrangement.”

“Excellent.” He held his arm out to her, and she lifted her skirts and strode toward him.

She hadn’t quite reached him when Lord Harewood walked up. Despite the sunny day, or maybe in honor of it, he wore gray pantaloons, but his tailcoat was still black. She halted. “Oh, you are here.”

Lord Manning turned. “Lord Harewood. Did you ride in a coach?”

“No, I headed out earlier than the rest of you, as I had to make arrangements with the inn across the lane for tea for the ladies and spirits for the men.”

“That was thoughtful. Lady Dorothea and I were just about to return to the trees for our meal.” Lord Manning looked around the earl. “I see they have laid out tablecloths for the occasion.”

“Yes, they have. My sister has set up one for you. And I am to escort Lady Dorothea for the meal.”

Lord Manning opened his mouth then closed it. He obviously didn’t like his plans undone. Finally, he nodded. “Of course.” Turning toward Dory, he gave a nod. “We can continue our search later, then.”

“I look forward to it.” Though actually, she was quite convinced now that there were no other stones.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode past Lord Harewood in search of Rose.

She smiled warmly. “I admit it is a relief to see you here.”

Lord Harewood raised his brows. “Indeed?”

She took the last steps that brought her to him. “Yes. I was worried I would have to count sentences the entire day. You don’t know how tiring that is.” She rolled her eyes like she’d seen Lady Northwick do at school.

His lips twitched. “So you are only pleased to see me because you can relax and say what you please for as long as you please?”

Surprised by his question, she wasn’t sure how to respond, but as his lips lifted in a smirk, she understood. “Of course. I can think of no other reason. Can you?”

“Ah, Dory, I can always depend upon you saying something I couldn’t predict.”

Knowing his pridefulness regarding his predictions, it was a high compliment. “Thank you, my lord.”

A chuckle escaped before he offered her his arm. “Shall we join the meal?”

She studied the ground one more time. “I suppose.”

“What is it you look for? Lord Manning said you searched for something. What did you lose?”

She set her hand on his arm. “I didn’t lose anything, but it appears the Devil lost two of his jumps.”

“You’ve heard the tale of this stone, then?” Instead of walking her toward the others, he walked her back to the stone.

“I did. Lord Manning got it from the stableboy.”

“I see. Then I should tell you that you will not find the other jumps.”

She stepped away to see his face. “How can you be sure? Did you search for them?”

He bent and patted the stone. “I would have, but I had a very intelligent tutor, one who refused to allow me to search until I researched the origins of said stone.” He stood straight again. “I’m thankful I didn’t walk this entire field looking for them as well.”

“What did you discover that had you leaving off the search?”

“Men far more advanced than I in archeology determined two very credible origins. One is that this is the remainder of a Celtic Cross that was broken.”

She studied the stone. That could be, considering how weathered it was. Even if it had been a hard break, after six hundred years in the elements, it was bound to be rounded by wind and rain. “And what was the second origin?”

“The second scholar determined that it may be a Roman mile marker.”

She moved her gaze from the stone to him. “A Roman mile marker?”

He nodded, his face absolutely serious.

She studied the stone closely. “This is much shorter than any marker I’ve encountered, Roman or otherwise. Why would an archeologist suggest that?”

“Perhaps it was simply to be different. Or it could be he was from the area and wished the local area to be known for something of value.”

She crouched down again, trying to discern if there were indeed any marks on the stone at all that could lead one to believe it had served such a purpose. She ran her fingertips along the face of the stone, hoping she would feel an indent even if she couldn’t see it. She didn’t find any. Looking up, she found Harewood’s arms crossed as he studied her. “What?” She looked at her dress to make sure nothing was amiss, but finding nothing, she rose. “Is there something wrong?”

“No. I was just curious.”

When he didn’t continue upon that which he was curious about, she guessed. “I believe I know which is the correct origin.”

“You do?”

She crossed her arms and nodded. “I do. Tell me. Which scholar had the better reputation?”

He frowned, moving his gaze from her to the stone and back, then his face lightened. “Of course. Whichever scholar had the most experience is most likely correct. I’m not sure I still retain that research, but it wouldn’t be difficult to obtain, as I found it in my father’s library once, which means it would be no large task to find it again.”

“I would be very interested in knowing if I’m correct. From my brief study of the stone, I believe it is the remains of a Celtic Cross. First, because of the dimensions. It has the right length and width of ones I have seen that are still intact. Second, I could find no indentations or markings on the stone, which we know are common on Roman mile markers. Granted, the stone could have been weathered so much as to erase them. However, the other markers I have come across all had marks of some kind upon them, even though equally as old as this one.

“Then again, an argument could be made for the location in an open field with fairly young trees, as in under one hundred years old, and therefore, the stone could have been beaten upon by Mother Nature, exposed as it is. Yet even were I to accept that, the height of the stone is far shorter than any I’ve seen. Not that I’ve visited them all. I do not know how many there are but have heard it is well over one thousand.

“Still, based on the knowledge I have, this stone is far too short to be a Roman mile marker by at least one foot. Therefore, I believe it to be the remains of a broken Celtic Cross. Now you may ask, where is the rest of the cross and that is, indeed, a mystery and the answer to that could well be lost forever. Perhaps someone decided to use the top of the cross as a headstone, as we are near sacred ground. Or a poor country boy with artistic talent decided to drag the rest of the stone home so that he may sculpt it into his vision. For all we know, the rest of this stone could be the cornerstone of the inn across the lane.”

She stopped talking when the earl’s smile grew wide, too distracted by his lips and how his face appeared more attractive when he smiled.

“I agree.”

She raised her brows in astonishment. “You do?”

He lowered his arm and walked toward her, stopping next to her to examine the stone. “I do. Your logic makes sense. I am now of the firm belief that this is the remains of a Celtic Cross.”

She warmed at his agreement. When he said it, it made it sound absolutely true.

He offered her his arm. “Now that you’ve solved the puzzle of the standing stone, are you ready to eat? That did take quite a bit of reasoning.”

She linked her arm with his and glanced at him to see if he teased, but there was no smirk on his face as he led her back toward the others, who were already sitting beneath various trees. “Though the mystery may be solved, it is not nearly so endearing as the story of the Devil playing leapfrog. I don’t believe The Jumps Inn will be willing to change its name to The Broken Cross Inn, as that does not sound nearly as appealing a place to stay.”

“Yes, well, we needn’t tell the innkeeper.”

They passed the Earl and Countess of Sommerset then stopped beneath a tree, where a tablecloth of pale green, embroidered with purple flowers, had been laid out. Upon it sat multiple plates of food.

As she lowered herself to sit, Lord Harewood waved over one of the footmen to give him an order for tea and ale before joining her. He sat with his back against the tree, his long legs out and crossed at the ankles. “If you enjoy such stories, then I’m pleased to tell you about the church in town, St. Mary’s.”

She liked sitting next to him better than standing because they were of more equal height, making her feel as if they had a mutual respect.

As he spoke, he gathered different food onto one plate and handed it to her.

He’d chosen cold roast beef and duck, a piece of pigeon pie, cucumber slices, a scoop of blancmange, and a fruit pastry. She stared in surprise. “This is everything I enjoy. How did you know?”

His grin spoke of confident pride. “I told you. I observe people.”

“You observed what I like to eat?” She couldn’t quite believe that he had been focused on her and the thought had her heart skipping a beat.

“I did.” His smile softened. “You do not like ham or collared calf’s head, but you do enjoy your sweets. I had another plate prepared with plum cake, pound cake, and a few macaroons. As we are outside today, transporting strawberry ice cream was not a possibility.”

She felt the back of her eyes sting with tears. No one, not even the cook at home, had ever paid attention to what she liked to eat. She swallowed hard. “Thank you. I’ve never had someone take an interest in my meal before.”

He didn’t appear surprised. “That is because men today are too busy noticing what women are wearing instead of what they are eating. I suppose it is to their advantage to gift a person with a ribbon to match. But as your dresses, bonnets, and other accoutrements of blues, greens, purples, and maroons are complete, as most women’s are, it makes no sense to focus on such frippery.”

Though he called it frippery , his recognition of what colors she wore had her looking down at her food so he wouldn’t see how much his observations touched her. Did he look at all the other women in the same way? How could he focus on everyone and keep their likes and colors organized and to what purpose?

“Is your food not acceptable?”

At his concern, she quickly met his gaze and smiled. “It is perfect. I’m simply dumfounded by how thorough you are.”

He gave her a nod before using a fork to bite into his own roast beef.

She followed suit, needing a moment to ruminate on her own feelings. Despite the earl’s statements regarding his disinterest in marriage, he seemed to truly enjoy her company. She definitely preferred his to that of any other gentleman present. Maybe if she continued to keep her conversation in line with the others, someone would become interested in her as a prospective wife. Lord Harewood would never be interested in her. He’d loved the Angel. She was nothing like the late Lady Belinda, more was the pity. But she had learned one important trait from the stories of Lady Belinda. The lady had been very kind and wished to aid others for no other reason than in her pleasure in doing so.

Dory reviewed her perfect plate and stabbed her fork into a piece of duck before plopping the moist bite into her mouth. Maybe she could help Lord Harewood find his happiness again. He’d made it very clear he didn’t wish to marry anytime soon, and she needed to marry as soon as was respectable, before her mother made that impossible. The only reason she had a chance at accomplishing that now was due to his idea on how to curtail her squiggly conversations. For that kindness, she felt a certain indebtedness to him. She would like to repay him if she could. Helping him find happiness again would not only be kind, it would be a repayment of a debt, so to speak. Yes, that was exactly what she would do.

“Is the duck done to your liking?”

She finished chewing it before answering. “Yes, it’s very good.”

“Excellent. Then allow me to tell you the story of the church of St. Mary’s at the end of this field, since you enjoy the quaintness of the fictional tale over the mundaneness of the facts.”

She grinned. “I do. What is special about St. Mary’s?”

“If you were to visit this church, you would discover that the bell tower is completely separate from the rest of the building.”

“You mean there is no door to it from inside?”

“Not at all. It is a walk away from the main building.” He widened his eyes as if that fact were quite shocking, which caused her to giggle.

“So we’re to say that if the church bells needed to be rung in a rain storm, the bell ringer would be quite soaked by time he reached the church proper?”

“Exactly.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Playing along, she asked the obvious question. “Why is the bell tower so far removed from the church?”

“The Devil!”

She laughed at his expression of rounded eyes with his head jerking forward, much like an old man who fully believed in the folklore. She did her part and slapped her hand to her chest, widening her own eyes. “No, it cannot be.”

He nodded sagely. “But it is. That devil was so bold and so prideful, he sought to take the bell tower away with him.”

She crinkled her brows. “But it’s still there.”

“Yes.” He leaned his head back against the tree and looked at her. “It was far too heavy with the weight of God, and he dropped it.”

“He dropped it?”

“Yes. He dropped it. That is why he took that poor man who was playing leapfrog here in this field. He was so embarrassed that he couldn’t bring the tower with him that he scooped up that poor soul instead.”

She chuckled at the seriousness of his tone. “Oh, yes. Now, that story is far better.” She held her hand up as if he’d speak. “No, don’t tell me the true reason the bell tower sits so far away. I much prefer to know the fiction.”

He studied her for a moment before continuing. “I promise not to tell you. But I have a suspicion that were we to stop there, you would scour the ground looking for clues.”

At his accurate observation, she laughed again. “You have figured me out, my lord.”

“So I have.” He appeared quite happy with himself. “As I stated, I observe people.”

Remembering the context in which he’d stated that, she lifted a forkful of duck. “And you make predictions. Have you ever attended a village fair and had your own future told?” She popped the savory meat into her mouth and chewed, anxious to hear his answer.

His brows furrowed. “Hardly. Why would I wish to be told lies? That is just a way to take precious funds from those least able to part with them.”

What a curmudgeon he was. “Oh, my, no. You really do not see. Those people are not spending coin they can’t afford on lies.” She shook her head, surprised he did not see the truth of the matter. “They are spending it for a little enjoyment, something different from their day-to-day lives.”

“Are you trying to convince me that they spend money to enjoy being told about a false future?”

“Yes. I know because I’ve been to a few. Once, I went with Lady Eleanor. We dressed like villagers and had our fortunes told. The old woman told me I would marry the dark one day.” She chuckled. “You can just imagine what I was thinking. For an entire day, that cryptic prediction kept my mind occupied. Did that mean I’d be spirited away to Gretna Green? Did it mean I wouldn’t know whom I was to marry? Did it mean I would marry an evil man?” She shivered for effect. “So of course, we had to go back, but this time, we dressed in our usual clothes. The old lady didn’t even look twice. She simply had me hold out my hand and read the lines on my palm.” She paused.

He immediately spoke, his interest in her experience obvious. “What did she say the second time?”

Pleased to have his undivided attention, she continued. “She told me I would have my choice of husbands, but to choose wisely and look beneath appearances, as only one was the right one. So once again, I went home thinking about the old woman’s message. Her second prediction was difficult to believe since I have had no men interested in me, never mind many. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if I would one day marry a man with a scar or a particularly large nose since she said to look beneath appearances.”

He chuckled, his green gaze alight with good humor. “So what you mean to say is that the fortune is a form of entertainment, but to what purpose? It is neither a comedy nor a tragedy. Nor is it a sport on which to bet on the best man.”

“It’s for fun. It’s to make people happy.”

His brows furrowed once again, obviously confused.

How could she explain? “It’s like you enjoying when your predictions come true. In fact, many people will make the future fit what was told them. Just imagine all the ways I could interpret marrying the dark one day. Why, if it was cloudy on my wedding day, I could say it came true.” She grinned, pleased to see him smiling again.

“I see your point and appreciate your understanding of others. I cannot say I ever gave it that much thought. I made a quick judgement when I didn’t have nearly enough information.”

His gaze was far too admiring, making her feel warm, though the day was quite perfect. She needed to distract him before she did something like kiss him in front of the entire group. “Let me have your hand.”