"But Mrs. Phelps will not be able to mingle in quite the same sphere as yourself. We would not wish you to be lonely."
"All the more reason why I'm glad our cousin Stewart Fitzgerald and his wife Vevina will be so close by. They're coming to see us tomorrow with the whole family," Thomas said with a smile at his blue-eyed wife.
"Don't worry, darling, the servants have all been informed. All shall be in readiness for them to spend the day. We'd better get to bed early tonight, all of us. We'll certainly need all the energy we can get when she and the four children descend upon us."
"I'm looking forward to it. They sound like a fascinating couple." Elizabeth waited for a few moments and then asked, "Have you met or paid calls upon any of the other neighbors yet?"
Thomas shrugged. "The vicar and verger from the village we already know. The verger's sister Penelope is said to be a most excellent spinster. She might suit you as a companion. I'm ashamed to say I've not made as much of an effort as I should have with the rest, but we'll remedy that once we see our own relatives first.
"Then there is a trio of cousins of Stewart's on the other side of the family, Marcus Fitzsimmons and his sisters Amelia and Mary. They are genteel but poor, and have always tried to advance their connection with our family as well, claiming direct kinship. I don't mind. It's just a bit of vain affectation, after all. Our fathers were good friends, but I'm afraid he and I never got on. Marcus was always more chummy with Stewart's twin Samuel than either Stewart or myself. He was nice enough the last time I saw him, before the war. As are his sisters. They might be good companions for you, Elizabeth.
"Then there are a pair of brothers next to them, the Teagues. The large clan near them are the Lynches. A pleasant enough family, even if the vicar shakes his head because they're Catholics. Honestly, how can you censure someone because they follow the dictates of their conscience? Not permit them to own property, vote…"
"Oh, please, darling, not Catholic Emancipation right now. At least wait until coffee. You know how it agitates your digestion."
"Aye, wife, that it most certainly does. It makes me sick to my stomach."
Clifford laughed. "Spoken like a true Rakehell. But I agree with Charlotte. One problem at a time, and no sense in getting agitated. It's going to take a campaign just as long, if not longer, than the tireless anti-slavery one which Wilberforce waged, to win this point in the Commons. Most Protestants, even moderate Anglicans, actually believe them to have tails."
"Damned lot of superstitious nonsense," the Duke scoffed.
Vanessa smiled. "True, but you have to admit, this is a most mysterious country, full of superstitions and bizarre monuments like those things they call dolmen. You know, the big triangular slabs said to signal the resting places of the ancient ones, the druids."
"With their flat slabs on top, they look like sacrificial altars."
They all agreed with Thomas, but Vanessa said, "They could be both. Who knows? It's said that a powerful group of druids once lived along this coast, in particular a husband and wife with remarkable powers, and her brother. They were supposed to have lived in a magical cave here at Ardmore, and a ruined old fortress up on the hill. Together they fought to hold back the tide of the Norman invasion being launched from Wales."
At the mention of a cave, Elizabeth started and shivered. Was it possible that she had stumbled upon a magical cave? The ghost of the former druid who had lived there?
She shook her head. It was ridiculous to be so fanciful. Her enigmatic lover had been real, warm, vibrant and alive. Very much alive, she thought with a blush.
She tried to concentrate on what her brother was saying.
"That sounds like Vevina and Stewart, and her brother Wilfred. Clancar Castle dates from the fourteenth century and is said to have all sorts of old dungeons and secret rooms. Will's house is a sixteenth-century ruin reputed to be situated on the remains of a much older house. Not that it was any fault of his that it was allowed to fall into disrepair. It was something to do with Stewart's brother Samuel, apparently, looking high and low for something. He sacked the place, apparently. He was always a rival of the Joyces.
"Their being away fighting to protect England from invasion for the past few years is just like the druids you were mentioning."
"What do you think they were looking for?" Elizabeth asked when she trusted herself to speak again.
Thomas sighed. "The Fitzgerald name has been linked with treasure for many years. Something to do with the exodus of many of the leading families from this area when the English began to clean out the good Catholic families who refused to conform to Protestantism. That period was known as the Flight of the Wild Geese. So maybe treasure? Who knows?
"All I know is Vevina and Will fled for their lives, and joined the army, Vevina disguised as a boy. She met Stewart, they fell in love, and eventually married. They've been in the Peninsula ever since."
Charlotte looked from one to the other to see that they were all finished with their meals, and rose from her chair. "You'll find out all about them tomorrow. Right now I fancy some music, and then off to bed. To sleep," she added in an undertone to her fond husband, who had already slipped one arm around her waist with an enthusiastic grin.
Normally their light banter would not have bothered her, but she looked away and her cheeks flamed.
Thomas and Charlotte were oblivious, but Vanessa saw her look of consternation. Under cover of asking her to turn the pages for her at the pianoforte, she took the girl to one side.
"I'm sorry that we all seem to do nothing but embarrass you these days with our too-heated demonstrations of regard for one another."
"It's not that. I mean, it's a bit odd, but delightful that you're not all so stiff and formal like most of the people in London and Bath. I just can't help wonder, well, if I'm normal," she confided in a whisper. "The thought of having a real beau, a, a lover, is so distressing and yet so thrilling sometimes that I really don't know what to think. I mean, what happened to Jane…"
"Is not going to happen to you. Do you understand?" Vanessa said firmly. "Your sister was foolish and let her head be turned by a suave manner and lying words. Even Charlotte was almost taken in by him, for Heaven's sake, and she was brought up in a lot more of a worldly way than the two of you ever were."
"That's part of the problem. I'm so inexperienced. I feel like my head could be turned by just one kiss," she confessed.
"No, it wouldn't. I know Ferncliffe pursued you, and Captain Breedon. I'm sure they tried to take liberties. I know you paid no more attention to them than to a speck of dust. The heart and the body seldom lie. Not if you also respect and esteem the man. It takes time. I thought Clifford a rake and libertine, but I was lied to. I watched carefully, observed him with the company he kept, discovered his tastes and character. It didn't take me long to realise I was falling in love with him. It only took me a while to be certain I loved him.
"As soon as I was sure, we married. I for one have never had a moment's regret. He's a wonderful man, a wonderful husband. Every moment we're alone my heart and soul, and body," she added in a lower tone, "is transported by joy."
"Is that normal, though?" Elizabeth dared to ask. "I mean, it was dreadful for Jane, and so many women complain…."
Vanessa patted her hand soothingly, then continued to play a popular air. "Many women have made bad choices, had their heads turned by plausible rogues like Paxton, or by worldly considerations such as name, rank and fortune. Many men treat their wives like chattel, possessions to be displayed in a drawing room like a china ornament, or an object for their own gratification in their bed. Still others can be biting and cruel. A man can torment his wife without ever lifting his hand. Being unfaithful, not taking her into her confidence, there are many ways. Hopefully by the time you ever marry you'll know your husband so well, that you'll be assured of happiness."
"And if I'm not? Happy, I mean?" Elizabeth asked, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
&nbs
p; Vanessa gave her a warm smile. "I shall pray that you will be. But if for any reason you are not, dear child, you know Thomas will do anything he can to help you."
"Even if he does not approve of my choice?"
"Even then. He loves you enough to want you to be your own woman, with the freedom to choose, and even to err." Vanessa sighed. "I know how hard it has been for you since Jane…"
"Yes, it has. But I'm not her," Elizabeth said stoutly.
Vanessa nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Thomas has tried to protect and shelter you. But you're old enough and educated enough that you can be trusted to be your own woman now. Just remember, there's no disgrace in admitting you've been wrong. It's far better to do that than let stiff-necked pride make your suffering even worse.
"I was too proud to admit to Clifford that I had been wrong about my half-brother Gerald being a highwayman. It almost cost me everything. Don't make the mistake I nearly did. If you find love, grab it with both hands and hang on. Even if the storm is swirling all around you, your love will be your anchor, and your guide."
Elizabeth embraced her friend. "I shall try to remember."
Vanessa peered at her closely. "You don't have anything special you want to confide in me, do you, dear?"
Elizabeth shook her head quickly. "No, nothing. I'm sorry to worry you. I'm just fine."
She slid over onto the bench and began to play the notes of one of their favorite duets, effectively ending the private conversation before she told Vanessa everything, and lost her shadowy lover forever.
Chapter Six
After a restless night, during which Elizabeth had tossed and turned with longing for her nameless, faceless lover from the cave, she dragged herself out of the bed at nine and scrubbed herself with cold water.
Since Thomas had told her this was to be a special family party, she dressed with care in a long-sleeved pale gold day gown with black sprigs. She dressed her hair high atop her head with matching hair ribbons and gave herself a light dusting of powder. She donned an impressive set of jet jewellery, earbobs, bracelets, and a collar necklace which could not fail to call attention to her shapely bosom, and checked her appearance once more.
She doubted that her cousin and his wife and brother could help her find the clues to the identity of her mystery beau, but it paid to look her best just in case.
She had not realised, though, that their family party would be quite so large. An entire house full of likely candidates for the role of enigmatic lover appeared in the form of their former comrades from the war.
Elizabeth had never felt so flustered in her life, for each man was as tall and handsome as the next, though in different ways. Almost any one of them could be the man whose touch had scorched her with passion's flame in the cave.
Fortunately she was able to rule out a few of the men straight away. Tall, dark and fiercely handsome Stewart Fitzgerald only had eyes for Vevina, his petite auburn-haired wife with sparkling violet eyes. In any event they mentioned how they had been out riding together when the storm had descended.
"We weren't caught too badly. Anyone hurrying about on foot would have got drenched. Far better to just take shelter until it was all over." Stewart smiled broadly and winked at his wife.
Elizabeth had little doubt what the couple had been getting up to whilst they had taken shelter; she had been doing pretty much the same herself.
No one else accounted for their whereabouts immediately, however, so she had to use her other powers of deduction. Francis Baines was tall and handsome, with brown hair, but he was married to the tiny girl called Jeanne who was helping with what she took to be Vevina's triplets, two boys and a girl.
"No, they're twins. This is Jack Beckett Fitzgerald, son of two dear friends who were killed at Badajoz. Duncan Monroe over there helped me save him from the French when they attacked our baggage train and slaughtered all the women and children," Vevina explained.
They all shuddered, and huge blond brother Wilfred said devoutly, "God rest their souls."
Elizabeth turned to look at Wilfred more closely, but the lanky adolescent standing by his side distracted her when he said, "And I lost my sight there. But Mum and Dad adopted me, and most of my vision has come back. So miracles do happen."
Wilfred ruffled his hair affectionately. "Yes, they do, Bob, if you believe, leave yourself open to the wonderful, the miraculous. Meeting Stewart was a miracle for us all. Kind of like getting you to lose that incomprehensible Cockney accent of yours."
The lad grinned back. "It wasn't nearly as bad as Parky's accent. He still sounds like a strangled crow."
Everyone laughed except the tall, well-built, handsome blond young man in uniform whom Elizabeth guessed to be just about her own age.
"Not my fault, old chap, if you don't appreciate the finer things in life. Including me. And it is Major Geoffey Parks to you, young man, not Parky." His severe tone was ruined by the broad grin have gave at the end of his pompous speech.
She noted his accent was still very plummy, much more so than that of the man in the cave. Still, he was most gallant and chatty to her as the afternoon progressed, so she could not discount him entirely as her enigmatic admirer.
Dashing Mitchell and dapper Monroe she could. Mitchell was tall, about six three, and had the most remarkable black twinkling eyes and long flowing hair like a pirate. But his left sleeve, pinned up past the elbow, told her he could not have been the man who had clutched her in his warm embrace.
Pity, that, she thought with a sigh. What a terrible loss, though he seemed to bear it very well. The fact that he seemed to be a common soldier also discounted him. Even her unpretentious brother might take exception to him as her lover. As a genteel, entertaining and undemanding companion though, he was wonderful.
Monroe was ruled out by dint of being a bit too short, both in body and hair. He was about six feet, with sandy brown hair and deep-set hazel eyes. He was very attractive in a direct if quiet way. He had a decided air of confidence and unflappability about him. She was not surprised to find he had been one of Wellington's most trusted ADCs.
She wondered how Vevina managed to get anything done with so many good-looking men surrounding her. Even five minutes in their company had her tongue-tied and unable to concentrate.
Elizabeth's confusion was added to when a new set of visitors was announced. The two fair Teague brothers, Timothy and James, three of the Kellys, Sean and his sisters Martha and Ann, came in together, and finally Marcus Fitzsimmons and his sisters.
She ruled out Sean as having much too broad a brogue and too short a frame. His sisters were two pleasant, quiet girls about her own age whom she looked forward to getting to know better.
She was not so sure about the sharp-eyed, sharp-featured blonde Fitzsimmons girls, whom she was certain had to have a little pocketbook in which they made notes about every single man they met. They asked the most shockingly direct personal questions of every man in the room, and ignored all of the women except Charlotte, to whom they were excessively deferential.
Strangely enough, they seemed to avoid Vevina, though she was a Duchess as well.
Elizabeth had to admit that she hardly paid attention to the women in the drawing room as each man towered over her and said how pleased they were to make her acquaintance. She didn't know what to think. She had so many potential chaps to choose from as her enigmatic lover that unless someone made specific reference to the storm or the cave, she was simply going to have to hope for some sort of clue. Or some more obvious intervention, she thought with a blush.
Fortunately the weather was a favourite safe topic of conversation around the dinner table, so she would introduce the subject of the storm and see what she could discover.
But first they had to get into dinner. The bevy of new arrivals had thrown the eating arrangements into complete disarray. With some extra leaves in the long table, and a willingness to sit much more closely together than would normally be the custom, they managed to sort themselves out
.
Her brother was of course at the head of the table and his wife at the foot. Vevina sat with the Duke, her husband with the Duchess. Elizabeth sat on the left of her brother, for he was not taking too many chances with his sister in such a large company of strange men. Thomas specially requested that Will join them, and so he now sat on Elizabeth's left. Stewart's cousin Marcus Fitzsimmons pressed in next to Vevina, and Major Parks next to him. Mitchell sat on Will's left to complete the group at that end of the table.
Elizabeth felt breathless with anticipation. She looked at the three blond men surrounding her, and felt certain that one of them had to be the faceless man in the cave. She scanned each one for a brief minute. All were tall, golden-haired, blue-eyed and broad-shouldered, but that was where the similarity ended.
Major Parks was about her own age, cultured, with only a touch of superiority, which would have only been natural given all he had achieved for a man of eighteen. He wore his medals proudly, and his uniform seemed to be a second skin. His blue eyes were like cornflowers, and always seemed to glow with amusement. His aquiline nose and elegant cheekbones suggested delicacy and refinement, as did his pale skin. In short, he was almost beautiful, with looks most women would have killed for.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2 Page 38
