Chapter Nine

A fter several hours of combing through the parish records, Ruarke knew there was no more information to be found in them. He rose and held out a hand to Heather. "We had better return to MacArran Grange or they'll be sending out a search party for us."

She nodded. "Your aunt will be screaming for me, no doubt."

"Let her scream. Your days in service to her are over. I'll move you into one of my guest quarters. In fact, I ought to put you beside me in the duchess suite of rooms."

"No." Her cheeks immediately turned a bright pink. "We are not yet married."

He sighed. "An oversight I hope to remedy, perhaps as early as tomorrow if you will allow it. I have no intention of waiting the month until the banns are read."

It was midday by the time they arrived back at the Grange. Ruarke's guests were milling about the dining room, eager for their next meal. "My apologies for keeping you waiting. Miss Alwyn and I—"

"The indecency!" His aunt barged forward like a bull. "Miss Alwyn, you are discharged. Pack up your things and leave at once."

"Miss Alwyn, don't you dare take a step," Ruarke shot back. "As for you, Aunt Lydia, since when is going to church to arrange for banns to be read indecent?"

"Church? Banns?"

"That's right. Be quiet, or you shall be the one sent packing. I had hoped to do this more gracefully, but it seems there is no point. Miss Alwyn and I are betrothed."

"What?" His cousin chuckled heartily and came forward to embrace him and then Heather. "Well done, Miss Alwyn. I was beginning to despair he would ever marry. Seems love is in the air, and now I might have to follow suit."

Ruarke grinned. "You are welcome to do so, Hereford. We just left the vicarage. In fact, my curricle remains at the ready should you have a mind to ride over. The vicar will be delighted to accommodate you."

His cousin turned to grin at a blushing Lady Sylvia. "That is good to know."

Several guests now came forward to congratulate Ruarke and Heather. Some appeared disappointed, but his aunt's look was venomous. "Why you scheming little—" She immediately broke off, no doubt realizing Heather would soon be his wife and hold sway over his purse strings. "Well, it is a shock," she stammered, now reconsidering and hastily attempting to make amends. "Of course, you shall be welcome into our family if this is my nephew's wish."

However, Miss Barclay was not so quick to embrace Heather's good fortune. She stepped forward with a smug expression on her face. "I would not be so quick to welcome her, Lady Audley. You worried she might be a thief, and now I must tell you that my necklace has been stolen."

Ruarke frowned. "Your necklace?"

"Yes, Your Grace. I saw that it was gone this morning and came looking for you to report it. I noticed Miss Alwyn by my door last night. I had just come up to retire to bed and thought it odd at the time. Now, I must insist her room be searched."

Heather's eyes widened. "But I didn't take it. I would never—"

Ruarke placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Hush, my girl. I know you are no thief." He summoned his housekeeper. "Mrs. Pool, kindly go up to Miss Alwyn's room and search for an expensive-looking necklace. I am sure you will find it in an obvious spot. Miss Barclay, would you care to tell me exactly where Mrs. Pool might find it?"

"How would I know?" Miss Barclay asked.

"Because you planted it there. By the time you retired, Miss Alwyn was already in the kitchen attending to the trivial chores my aunt had requested be done last evening. She could not have been anywhere near your bedchamber."

The spiteful wasp would not back down. "That is an outrageous accusation! I know what I saw!"

"This should be interesting," Ruarke's cousin said, following him and Heather into his study along with Miss Barclay and her maiden aunt. Lady Audley followed as well, no doubt considering whose side to take. But since her comfortable style of living was dependent on his good graces, Ruarke expected her to sit quietly and only jump in once the outcome was obvious.

He turned to his other guests and held up a hand to keep them from following him in. "Please help yourself to the lavish repast awaiting you in the dining room. We shall not be long."

"I insist they stay on and witness Miss Alwyn's undoing," Miss Barclay said, her mouth curled in an ugly sneer.

"As you wish." Ruarke shrugged. "The truth will out."

Mrs. Pool returned with a locket in hand. "Is this the one? I am so sorry, Miss Alwyn. I know you did not take it. You were downstairs with me all that time. A dozen of His Grace's servants also saw you with me. You will be cleared of this."

"Thank you, Mrs. Pool." Heather emitted a soft cry the moment she saw the necklace in the housekeeper's outstretched hand, and then turned to Ruarke. "This is the twin of my locket."

"Hah! Now she is claiming to have one just like it." Miss Barclay huffed. "But it is mine."

"Indeed," her priggish aunt said. "It has been passed down the generations from mother to daughter since Millicent Barclay's day."

"Is that so?" Ruarke exchanged a look with Heather. He could not believe what the woman had just said. Did Heather understand the significance?

Now he glanced heavenward, for miracles did happen.

These Barclays were about to prove Millicent guilty of killing her own sister. The locket was identical to Heather's. Was it possible Millicent had kept it with her all these years? Just the sort of wickedness a mad sister might dream up. Not only to hold on to the necklace, but pass it to her heirs. How better to laugh at everyone, knowing she got away with murder?

But the locket would prove Millicent was at the caves with Bella that day and stole it off her neck after knocking the poor girl unconscious.

"Open it," he commanded Miss Pool, who still had it in her hand.

Miss Barclay glanced at it uncertainly. "There is nothing inside."

Ruarke frowned. "Are you certain?"

"Quite. It contains nothing inside." Her gaze was now brazen and combative as she tried to grab it away.

Ruarke took it instead and held it out of her reach. "Not a portrait of the Duke of Arran's son? The boy who loved Bella. He gave her a necklace identical to yours, which contained his portrait inside. If yours is empty, as you claim, then you will not mind if I open it and see what is inside."

"But I do mind." She tried to snatch it out of his hand again.

He easily held it out of her reach and now tried to open it, but his hands were big and awkward as he fumbled with the delicate clasp.

"Here, let me show you." Heather took it from him and easily opened it. "Dear heaven," she said in a breathless whisper, starting at the portrait it revealed.

He turned the full force of his fury on the Barclays. "Nothing inside? Then this one cannot possibly be yours, for it clearly has the portrait of a young man. My own granduncle, James. You dare to bring this locket into my home? This keepsake given to Millicent's sister by her true love. Bella always wore it. She was wearing it the day she died. That her sister had it and passed it on through your Barclay line only proves she was there with Bella that day at the caves."

"Your Grace, what are you suggesting?" Miss Barclay's outrage was now turning to fear as his words began to sink in.

"Was Millicent's secret carried down through the generations as well? Did you know she was a murderess? That she wore this locket after Bella's death for her own sick amusement because she hated her sister and had killed her? Get out of my house. Get out and never set foot in here again."

His words had shocked not only the Barclays, but all of his guests, who had ignored his earlier request to leave them to their private discussion. Apparently, a lavish meal set out for them in the dining room was no temptation when there was a scandal about to erupt. Miss Barclay had foolishly insisted they remain, thinking she was about to humiliate Heather. Instead, she had done herself in. The onlookers were now whispering excitedly among themselves.

"Bella got what she deserved," Miss Barclay said with a sneer, too full of venom to keep quiet and silently slip away. "She'll never be free of those caves."

With that, she and her aunt stormed off to pack their belongings.

"Good riddance," Ruarke muttered.

Heather's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "They are wrong about Bella being trapped. This locket was never Millicent's to give away. I shall return it to its rightful owner." She withdrew her own locket, a perfect twin to the one in Ruarke's hand, and showed the others who were with them in the room. "This one belonged to my mother. I always thought it was a portrait of her, but it is Bella."

"Merciful heaven," Mrs. Pool muttered.

Heather nodded. "This is what Bella has been waiting for, the return of her locket. But I think I must give her mine as well. Two hearts reunited in love."

"I'll place them in the Singing Caves," Ruarke said. "But Heather, you must stay here. It is too dangerous for you to come with me."

Heather would not hear of it. "Bella won't hurt me now. I know she won't. You have to let me go to her. I must be there. Truly, how else is she to understand what we are doing?"

"No, Heather—"

"Who else can see her or speak to her? You cannot do this properly without me. Besides, I know I cannot come to harm when I have you to protect me."

Ruarke groaned. "You place too much faith in me."

She placed a hand lightly on his arm. "I know I shall always be safe with you."

"Low tide happens this evening, just before suppertime," Ruarke's cousin said.

Ruarke sighed. "Hereford, you always were a font of trivial information, but this time you've proved yourself quite useful."

*

The sun shone late into the evening at this time of the year, so there was plenty of light as he and Heather made their way to the Singing Caves.

Heather held both lockets in her hand.

They were not the only ones present, for word had spread throughout the village. It seemed to Ruarke as though all its inhabitants were in attendance. The vicar was there with his wife and his prayer book. The curate was beside them with tears in his eyes.

Ruarke's houseguests also came along, for this would be quite a story to tell when they returned to London.

The vicar led the onlookers in prayer.

Ruarke was never one to pray, but perhaps tonight would change him.

The sky was an array of colors, of pinks and lavenders, as the sun began its descent on the horizon, and the sea sparkled. Ruarke climbed the rocks and held out his hand to help Heather onto them. "Are you sure about this? I can go in alone."

"I have to be with you. I am ready."

He could have ordered her to stay behind with the others, but she was right. He felt it as well. She needed to be with him.

He had brought a lantern along, and now lit it. "Here we go. Do not let go of my hand."

They entered the cave where Bella had drowned.

The ground was dank but mostly dry because the tide was out.

Heather took a deep breath. "Bella, we've brought you a gift. It is your missing locket. Your sweetheart had a similar one made for himself that held your portrait. They are both yours now. Take them with you as you cross over. It is time for you to go. James is waiting for you." She set them on a rocky ledge within the cave. "Be happy, Bella."

They waited a moment to see if their ghost would respond, but were met with silence.

Ruarke dared not remain inside any longer, even though there was still time before the tide came in. But he did not like the idea of Heather remaining in the cave another moment. "Let's go, love."

He led her back out.

They had just stepped down from the rocks and onto the sand when they heard a trill of laughter.

Heather gasped. "She's seen the necklaces."

"Good, now let's get you away from here," Ruarke muttered, and they quickly rejoined the onlookers at the other end of the beach.

He handed the lantern off to his cousin and wrapped his arms around Heather. Despite being certain they were doing the right thing, he would not manage a calming breath until Bella was gone.

Heather did not appear concerned and insisted they would soon see a sign. He had no idea what it might be. A dove flying overhead? A flash of light from inside the cave? A ghostly aura floating upward to heaven? Or nothing at all?

What if they were wrong and the return of the lockets did not work?

Heather grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed it. "It is happening."

He sucked in a breath. "What do you see?"

"They are both on the rocks, waving to us."

"Both?"

"Yes, Bella and James. He's come for her. Oh, Ruarke, he waited for her all these years." She waved back at them and blew Bella a kiss. "He looks so much like you. No wonder she fell in love with him."

"They are not us, Heather. I fell in love with you , not her," Ruarke said.

She looked at him with her eyes wide and glittering. "You called me love before in the cave. And now, are you… I thought… I…"

"You thought I only wanted you because you would make a good nanny?" He kissed the tip of her nose. "You probably would. But I am in love with you, Heather. You claimed my heart the moment I set eyes on you."

"Love at first sight?" She nodded. "This is how it was for me, too. Why did you not tell me sooner? Oh, I suppose you had to be cautious, considering you are the Duke of Arran and I could have been a scheming fortune hunter."

"I quickly saw that you were not."

"Look at that brilliant light," his cousin called out.

Ruarke turned his gaze heavenward.

Everyone was looking up now to ooh and aah as a fiery light shot across the darkening sky. "I think we must name it the MacArran-Evans comet," he said in jest.

Heather cast him an impish grin. "Or the Evans-MacArran comet."

He laughed. "So it shall be. I understand what they must be feeling. I would wait an eternity for you."

She looked up at him in wonder. "I would do the same for you." She nestled in his arms, her back against his chest as they watched the spectacle of light. "I love you, Ruarke."

He kissed her slender neck. "I love you, my elfin princess. By the way, I am marrying you tomorrow. Do not think to argue, for you shall never win this argument…although you will likely win every other one we shall ever have during our long and, dare I hope, mostly peaceful marriage."

True to his word, Ruarke obtained the license and they married in St. Augustine's Church the following morning, each of them vowing to love the other to the end of their days and beyond.

They held true to their vows.

THE END