She paused in the doorway for a soothing sip of the all-purpose British remedy, hot milky tea. What on earth?
A blue and white police car with flashing lights pulled into the parking lot, followed by a darker model car.
Her immediate horror was that something had happened to Will. She sagged in unspeakable relief when she saw him stride up to the black sedan and speak with the plain-clothes officer inside.
A balding man in a white short-sleeve shirt and tie, stomach over his belt, climbed out, his navy pants slick in the morning light. His pale face bore witness to a lack of sunshine. He held a brief case, camera, and nodded at Will. They were joined by a tall young deputy in a brown uniform. The three made hasty introductions.
Balancing the muffin under her chin, Julia juggled the tea and shut the door. She walked across the lawn and tentatively approached the men with no clue what this was all about.
“Keep the grounds closed to visitors today, and then we’ll see,” the deputy said as she walked up to them.
He slid appreciative eyes over her and tipped his hat with Southern gentility. “Ma’am.”
The paunchy officer shot her a harried glance. “Good day, Miss.”
Will gestured at her. “Julia Morrow. This is Detective Williams and Deputy Stone.”
She shook hands with each officer, politely murmuring, “How do you do?” wondering all the while if Will were in some kind of trouble with the law.
“They’re here about the skeleton Lyle and Ron uncovered in the garden,” he explained.
She scarcely noticed the policemen and gaped at Will. “When?”
He ran harried fingers through his hair. “Earlier today near the excavation for the wall.”
“Who in the world?”
Will shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t know any more than you do.”
Detective Williams motioned them forward. “That’s what we’re here to try and determine. Let’s get on with it, shall we, Mr. Wentworth?”
Will stepped briskly up the walk and Julia trotted at his side. His chin was dusted with dark whiskers and his jeans were stained with damp earth from kneeling in the garden with her last night. If he hadn’t bothered to shave, or put on fresh clothes, he probably hadn’t eaten yet either.
“Here,” she said quietly, and passed him the tea.
He grasped the mug. “Thanks.”
He took a swallow, and then dipped his eyes to hers. The hurt in his mute appeal cut through her soul. How could she have been so callous?
“I’m truly sorry,” she said, trying again.
He nodded. “Me, too.”
They’d have to work all this out later. For now, the smile curving his lips was irresistible, as if the sun had broken through the darkest clouds.
Will passed the tea back and forth and shared her muffin as they wound around the house and into the garden. Daisies shone and butterflies glimmered in the morning light.
“Beautiful place,” Deputy Stone said pleasantly from behind them. “Not the sort of spot you’d expect to unearth a body, but then, you never do.”
“No,” Will agreed. “I hope these proceedings won’t take too long to conclude, we’re in overdrive now getting ready for our Midsummer’s Eve gala.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t think so,” Detective Williams grunted.
The personable young officer was more forthcoming. “From what Mr. McChesney reported, the skeleton’s likely been there for ages. Too long to even be an episode on Cold Case,” he joked.
Julia was baffled.
“It’s a TV show,” Will explained. “Though not one that shows in your home back in England, I imagine.”
“Papa frowns on most television viewing.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Will said dryly.
“How do you like Virginia, Miss Morrow?” Deputy Stone asked.
“Brilliant. It feels like home, Deputy.”
“Isn’t her accent great? Got to love the Brits—” The young officer broke off. “Who are all these men?”
“Employees, and none of them at work,” Will answered.
Lyle, Ron, Jon, Dave, Old Joe, and Paul were collected around a dark hole. The fresh opening in the earth lay just inside the ruins of the old wall where Lyle and Ron had been excavating in preparation for restoration work. Ironically, the lilies Julia had huddled among were only yards away from their discovery. The flowery fragrance rose on the warm air as she, Will, and the two officers made their way to the partially unearthed grave.
Julia hung back, ill at ease by what or who had been exposed.
The detective peered inside and nodded his approval. “Good. You haven’t damaged the find. We’ll take it from here. I’ve a team coming out to process the site and finish exhuming the skeleton.”
“Can you tell us anything about the bloke?” Lyle asked.
Detective Williams creased his round face, squinting thoughtfully. “As you’ve already surmised, we’re dealing with a large male. Likely, he stood over six feet tall and was of substantial build. By the extreme state of decomposition, I’d say everyone acquainted with this fellow has long since died. Still, we must observe procedures.”
He opened his briefcase and withdrew a roll of yellow tape like they used to cordon off crime scenes. “Deputy Stone will secure the area and then we’ll have to ask you to stand back.”
Before they did, Julia looked reluctantly down into the final resting place of this unfortunate man. The remains of a lengthy skeleton partly covered by earth lay on his side as if heaved into the hastily dug grave. “His clothing has all rotted away. How will you tell who he was?”
Deputy Stone shook his head. “I don’t know that we can, Ma’am, or that it really matters anymore.”
Julia had the odd feeling that it did.
Will bent nearer the hole. “Wait a minute. What’s that at his side?”
She looked more closely. “It’s metal, and heavily rusted.”
“But not disintegrated entirely. May I?” Will asked the detective.
“I suppose you can gently dislodge whatever that is and we’ll take a look.” He opened his briefcase and took out some latex gloves. “Wear these.”
Will pulled on the gloves with a snap and climbed down in beside the skeleton. Lyle passed him a small trowel. Like the artist that he was, Will carefully scraped at the packed earth and brushed with his fingers until he gradually revealed the long thin object. Much had eroded into nothingness, but enough remained for Julia to see him lift something from the ground.
“A sword.” Will held it up.
“So it is. An unusual find,” the detective conceded, as though this case had taken on a much more interesting bent.
Deputy Stone perked up visibly. “This site dates further back than I thought. What’s on the hilt?”
Brushing away untold decades of dirt, Will said, “There’s an insignia of some sort. Lyle, pass me your water.” He took the bottle and lightly poured a small stream over the hilt, then finger-cleaned away more of the earth. “A coat of arms.”
Lyle motioned to him. “Let’s see.”
Detective Williams gave a curious nod, and Deputy Stone seemed too engrossed in the mystery to object.
Will passed the rusted weapon to the Aussie, and then climbed from the hole. “Can you make it out?”
Lyle had a peculiar expression on his usually sardonic face. “Yeah. It’s the Cameron crest.”
“How would you know that in Australia?” Detective Williams asked.
“My grandfather was a Cameron on my mother’s side and on back. It’s one of the oldest and fiercest clans in Scotland. There’s a story in the family about some Cameron ancestor who traveled to America and was never heard from again.”
Julia felt distinctly light-headed despite her hasty breakfast. She had the most unnerving sensation that Lyle had just helped to unearth himself, or his former self.
Urgent questions sprang to mind, but not ones she could pose to this detective without
immediate conveyance to a mental ward. Who killed Justin Cameron, and why? The last she’d seen of him he’d been belligerent but very much alive. More importantly, had Cameron slain Cole before he fell?
She looked at Will’s fixed gaze and she knew, he was wondering the same thing.
Lyle eyed Will narrowly. “Seems my long-gone ancestor has turned up, probably stabbed through the heart by yours, Wentworth.”
Julia didn’t think that’s how events unfolded. A vital piece of the puzzle was still missing.
Chapter 19
Swords rang out in the great hall. Foxleigh might be temporarily closed to visitors, but the unsinkable Nora had persuaded the officials that the practice must go on. Time was at a premium. They were nearing dress rehearsal.
“Here you all are! I had a time getting past the barricade but I managed to scoot on in.”
The sultry voice belonged to Nelle Patterson and couldn’t have been more unwelcome.
Will dropped his sword arm and surveyed the voluptuous brunette sashaying across the hall in a low-cut yellow sundress. She exuded heavy musk like pheromones and reminded him of a cat in heat.
“Hell,” he muttered.
“You’re an odd bird, Wentworth. She looks damn good to me.” Lyle swiped his blade dramatically.
“Help yourself. You two deserve each other.”
Julia observed Nelle’s approach with the wariness of a cat eyeing a strange dog entering its’ territory.
Nelle slid her eyes to Julia, dressed in flowing white. “Who are you? The virgin maid?” she quipped, then turned her attention to Will. “What’s all the hoopla about outside? Why all the yellow ribbons?”
Will angled his head at Lyle. “The Aussie here dug up an old skeleton.”
Nelle examined Lyle curiously. “Dinosaur or something?”
“Oh, he’s extinct, all right. The Wentworths aren’t overly hospitable to their guests.”
Grandmother Nora spoke out from her usual spot in the high-backed chair. “We’re going to be a sight more inhospitable if you don’t stop pinning that murder on us. Cameron had it coming, anyway. The man was guilty as sin.”
Lyle lowered his voice an octave. “You can’t prove that.”
“Nor can you,” the Wentworth matriarch countered.
Nelle slid her quizzical gaze from the glowering Aussie to the indignant old lady. “Have I come at a bad time?”
Full agreement flooded Julia’s expressive face.
Voicing just such a response was on the tip of Will’s tongue. But Grandmother Nora motioned Nelle to her with an aged hand.
“For a tour, you have. But sit here and watch the rehearsal.”
Nelle settled her ample derrière in a seat. “I adore these plays you all put on, such folksy, down home theater.” She fluttered polished red nails at her father. “Hi Dad.”
Douglas cleared his throat and lifted uneasy fingers.
“You could even perform for schools and retirement homes. They’d love it, especially the fencing,” Nelle wore on, oblivious of the mounting tension in the hall.
A slight rigidity tightened Nora’s mouth. Will saw it coming. Everyone did. Except Nelle.
“I reside in a retirement community, Miss Patterson. We appreciate serious theater such as this, not homey drivel.”
“Certainly. I didn’t mean you weren’t,” Nelle attempted.
Nora inspected her from beneath hooded eyes. “Quite. Now if you don’t mind, we’ll get on with it.”
Nelle slunk down in her chair. “Please do.”
The cane tapped in signal to begin. “Make this duel appear as genuine as possible, gentlemen. Give us a real show.”
No problem. Will crossed blades with Lyle’s shining steel. His heart thudded as he pressed his adversary hard, driving him back. Each man vied to overcome the other.
They tested each other’s strength then broke apart, chests heaving. Lyle was a force to be reckoned with. So was Will.
Marv, the violinist, and his mate, Rodge, on the trumpet, played dramatically at significant intervals.
Will tuned out the musical accompaniment and studied his opponent with barely concealed anger. “‘Come on, sir,’” he invited with Hamlet’s line, also his own.
Eyes glittering, Lyle swept him a mocking bow. “‘Come, my lord,’” he answered, as the outraged Laertes.
That required little acting either.
Will curved his lips in a smile only a foolish man would disregard. Then he sprang, slicing his blade at Lyle’s sword. If this were a real duel, he’d slice it at Lyle’s head or plunge it into his heart. This was only a performance, he reminded himself.
Lyle struck back with a powerful downward swoop. Will brought his blade up and blocked that blow. He swung higher. The clash of steel sang out again and again.
Hamlet was to have the upper hand in this scene, and Will didn’t give Lyle an inch. He dodged the rapier, cutting at him, and spun around. Back he dove at Lyle. The wicked grin egged Will on and he struck hard. Let Lyle fend for himself. Cole had been far too gracious to his treacherous ancestor. Likely, one of Cole’s friends had slain the blackguard, Cameron, in secret and buried him on the spot.
Will side-stepped Lyle’s swing and thrust him in the gut with his elbow. “‘You but dally, Laertes. I pray you, pass with your best violence,’” he provoked his rival in Hamlet’s lingo.
“‘Say you so? Come on,’” Lyle grunted, rising to the bait.
Gleaming steel whistled through the air as Will swung the blade over his head. Lyle parried that stroke, and the next. They circled the room eyeing each other, thrusting here and there.
As alert as a panther stalking its prey, Will never took his focus from Lyle’s cunning face. He saw his opening and dashed forward, wielding his sword. The clang of metal rang out. Lyle returned stroke for stroke. But Will increased the pace of the sparking steel. Faster, faster, he rained blows down on Lyle.
The Aussie jumped aside and barely cleared the biting point. Will lunged again, thrusting his blade and forcing Lyle back, back, back, toward the wall. Skill he didn’t even realize he had welled up in him like a fount of strength.
Nelle gasped loudly.
“For God’s sake! Enough. You’ll kill him!” Julia cried.
Grandmother Nora’s response was the exact opposite. “Don’t be ridiculous, girl. They’re only sparring and well done, too. Bravo!”
Douglas mopped his glistening forehead. “I’m glad the king doesn’t have to fence.”
“No,” Nora assured him, patting his hand. “Hamlet poisons his uncle and then runs him through. But he had it coming,” she added with a significant look at Lyle.
More knocks on the back door intruded into the evening.
“What now?” their harried director demanded. “Go see who it is, Jon. Polonius is dead by now anyway,” she said, indicating his part in the rehearsal was at an end.
Nelle jumped up. “I’ll go.”
Nora gave a distracted nod, and Nelle fled.
Will hardly noticed her retreat. He glared at Lyle. “Had enough, or do you want another go?”
Lyle jabbed his thumb at Julia. “Don’t want poor Ophe coming unglued and taking a dive in the river. Not that she ain’t doing just grand in your care,” he said sarcastically.
Will took in Julia’s pale face and the dark shadows under her swollen eyes. Hurt still lingered in their troubled depths. “She will.”
Lowering his sword, he walked to her. After today’s chaos, they’d only had that brief moment this morning for any kind of reconciliation. Last night’s wretched exchange must still plague her, and he knew she was frightened by events. Will saw that, too, in her eyes.
Not caring who looked on, he closed his free arm around her waist and drew her against him. Julia laid her head on his chest and he felt her warm breath through the white cotton of his colonial style shirt.
Grandmother Nora rumbled disapprovingly in her throat. “Do contain these public displays of affection, sir
. I’ve not yet given my full blessing to this match. The poor girl’s perfect for playing Ophelia, but seems a bit addled to bear the future heir of Foxleigh.”
Julia tensed in his embrace as he shot back, “Oh, for Christ’s sake. You make it sound like you’re choosing the next queen of the British Empire.”
“Channel Three News!” a woman said brightly.
The next thing Will knew, a news crew complete with a cameraman had pushed their way past Nelle and swarmed into the house.
Grandmother Nora arched gray brows. “I beg your pardon?”
The blond anchorwoman clicked over the floor in red and white stilettos that coordinated with her size four red suit. She turned heavily outlined eyes at his grandmother and spoke animatedly through scarlet lips. “I’m Betty Bauer with Channel Three News. We’re here to do a story on the skeleton unearthed at Foxleigh today. Is it true the man was murdered here two hundred years ago?”
Someone must’ve blabbed, and Will ran his critical inspection over the room. Detective Williams had asked him to keep the find under wraps until they’d completed the excavation. The word was out now. Crowds of visitors and news crews from all over the state would converge on them. Hell, even the whole country if the story were big enough. Archeologists would probably turn up to dig into the past. They’d never have a moment’s peace again.
Nora replied stiffly. “It’s likely the unfortunate gentleman met with a brutal end, though I must point out that the Wentworths have grievances of their own in that regard.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” Miss Bauer rushed on cheerily, her contact lens-enhanced blue eyes searching the assembly. Her trained gaze honed in on Will as if he were the very man she’d sought all her life. “You must be William Wentworth! You’re a local celebrity. Women have been calling the station insisting we do a story on Cole Wentworth’s tragic end and your remarkable resemblance to him. And now, with this skeleton find, why, it’s a win win.”
For who, Will wondered. Not necessarily him and Julia, pressing warily against him.
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