Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress

by Jane Ashford

  “Yes,” said Joanna. “I, too.” And the two women smiled at one another as their vehicle pulled away from the house.

  Seventeen

  When Joanna came down to breakfast the following morning, her father urged her to get her sketchpad and come with him to the Abbey. Today, she agreed, and within half an hour they were on their way. They were accompanied by a complacent Frederick. He had spent every free hour recently in the house or the ruins, and though he had apparently found nothing of note as yet, he was enjoying himself hugely and had struck up a flourishing friendship with Carstairs’ mastiff.

  They found Carstairs at the Abbey when they arrived. He was talking with Jonathan Erland over tea and toast. Frederick disappeared on his own errands immediately, and the rest started out to the ruins to begin the day’s work. Gerald and Templeton arrived from Oxford as Mr. Rowntree was outlining their task. “Today,” he was saying, “we shall excavate the church flooring. Now that we have found the corner of the edifice, we know where we are. The pavement is the next step. And once that is cleared, we shall be able to determine whether there is an intact crypt beneath.” He gestured toward the expanse of broken rock and grass adjacent to the corner of the church they had already unearthed. “We shall begin at the corner and work outward.”

  The men in the group, excepting Templeton, looked unenthusiastically at the spot he indicated. The inside of the corner was filled with a heap of broken masonry, which would be difficult to move. Carstairs grimaced.

  “Could we not start there?” asked Erland with a smile, pointing to a clear patch a bit to the left. Carstairs turned back to Mr. Rowntree eagerly.

  “No, no. Quite off the mark. We must begin at this corner.”

  Carstairs sagged, and Erland shrugged philosophically. “Well,” he replied, “we have no help today, so I suppose you and I had better fetch the shovels, Carstairs.”

  The other man nodded dolefully, and they went toward the tool shed.

  “Do you really think we shall find something here?” asked Templeton excitedly. “We have been working for so long and discovered nothing very singular.”

  Joanna shook her head, thinking that Templeton at least did very little working.

  “You must have patience, John,” replied Mr. Rowntree. “That is your besetting sin as a scholar, too little patience. One must be ready to devote years to one’s chosen study, with no expectation of revelations.”

  Templeton frowned, and Gerald exchanged a glance with Joanna. She almost thought he smiled.

  Thus encouraged, Joanna moved over to him. “Was your tea at the vicarage pleasant?” she asked. “We thought you might stop at home afterward, but I suppose you went directly back to Oxford.”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, the Willistons asked me to stay to dinner,” answered Gerald. “And it was late when I came away. I had meant to do some work last evening, so I hurried back to my rooms.”

  “How kind of them,” said Joanna innocently. “You must have enjoyed yourself.”

  “I did.”

  “I like the Willistons so.”

  “Yes, they are very pleasant, well-informed people.”

  “And Constance. I think she is a charming girl, don’t you?” Joanna watched her brother from under her lashes.

  “Constance is the most intelligent girl I have ever met,” he answered fervently.

  A bit taken aback, Joanna was silent. This did not sound very romantic. However, as she considered it further, she realized that this was the sort of thing Gerald would say if he liked a girl. He seemed to care nothing for beauty or pretty dresses. And as she thought again, she realized that the fact that Constance was a very striking girl might have something to do with Gerald’s opinion after all. She smiled.

  Carstairs and Erland returned with the tools, and they, with Gerald, began to move the rocks and pieces of brickwork that lay over the chosen spot. Joanna got out her things and sat down to sketch the corner of brickwork already exposed. It was not yet hot, but the three young men were soon puffing and removing their coats. Mr. Rowntree occasionally lent a hand; he was not so old that he could not move a few stones, he told them jovially. But more often he became engrossed in some line of thought and forgot to pick up another. Templeton stood back and watched, sometimes offering a suggestion. His hands were still too blistered, he said, to be subjected to any chafing.

  It was nearly ten before the place was clear. Joanna had finished her drawing and was standing back to watch. Carstairs looked quite done up. His face was red, and he puffed audibly. Thus, it was Gerald who took the other shovel and joined Erland in the actual digging. “You really are a marvel, Erland,” he said as they began. “Do you never tire?”

  The other man grinned. “Of course. But I have done a bit more of this sort of thing than the rest of you, I suppose. I am accustomed to it.”

  Gerald heaved a shovelful of dirt into the growing pile. “Well, I wish I were. I find myself blown in ten minutes. Father should have sent me to the colonies with you if he meant me for this kind of labor.”

  “You’d best not let him hear you say so,” laughed Erland. “He might send you yet.”

  Gerald looked surprised for a moment, then he also laughed. “He might at that, if I would go.”

  The earth beneath the stones was soft and moist, easier to dig than the gravel they had hit elsewhere in the ruins, and so the hole deepened rapidly. In less than half an hour, it was two feet deep, and Erland’s shovel suddenly hit something hard on the far side. Instantly, Mr. Rowntree leapt into the hole with them.

  “Ah, here we are,” he cried. “Here is something.” But when he bent to examine the find, he could tell nothing about it. “Dig further on this side,” he told them. “I am certain this is the floor level.”

  Obligingly, the two younger men enlarged the hole on that side. In minutes, they had exposed a section of old stone. Gerald bent over it. “This looks like flooring,” he said.

  Mr. Rowntree rubbed his hands together happily. “Yes, indeed. It is just as I thought. Now we shall see something.”

  Joanna came over to see, and Carstairs got up from the grass. They were all leaning’ over the hole when a voice spoke behind them. “You have found something significant?” asked Sir Rollin Denby.

  Startled, they all turned. Sir Rollin, dressed with his usual somber magnificence, stood behind them, smiling slightly.

  “How fortunate for me that I decided to join you this morning,” he added. “Do you know I almost rode into Oxford instead?”

  The younger people were silent, but Mr. Rowntree nodded vaguely and said, “Ah, yes, Mr.—ah, most fortunate. We have uncovered the floor of the monk’s chapel. Interesting.”

  “The floor of the chapel?” Denby strolled forward and looked at it. “Ah, I see. Fascinating. A Catholic church, I suppose, Erland, since your ancestors were such rabid Jacobites?”

  Jonathan Erland looked startled. He glanced sharply at Joanna, then brought his gaze back to Denby. “No doubt,” he answered dryly. Denby smiled.

  “Yes, indeed, most interesting,” said Mr. Rowntree. “We must uncover more of it, and then Joanna can make one of her neat sketches, recording each detail. Then we can see what lies below.”

  “You do think there is something beneath?” asked Sir Rollin.

  “Oh, yes. That would be only natural, wouldn’t it? There should be crypts and perhaps the treasure room.”

  At this last, Joanna started. She looked at Erland, but he was staring fixedly at Sir Rollin.

  “Fascinating,” murmured the latter. “You really do progress.”

  Joanna’s father looked pleased. “We do. It is all method and organization, you know. One must be methodical.”

  “I daresay.”

  “Let us get on with it then, Gerald, Mr. Erland. Extend the excavation in this direction.” Mr. Rowntree pointed. “The church
must have been all across here.”

  “Marvelous,” exclaimed Templeton. He gestured widely and began to walk around the hole. “Here, the monks walked, meditated, prayed, while the great Henry sat on the throne and the armada prepared in Spain.” He sighed soulfully.

  “Well now, Templeton, we haven’t established that fact,” corrected Mr. Rowntree. “Though I daresay you are right. But let us get on.”

  Erland and Gerald exchanged a smile, and Gerald bent for another shovelful of earth. “Perhaps you would care to lend a hand, Denby?” asked Erland. “Since you find this discovery so fascinating.”

  “I shouldn’t dream of taking your place on your own property,” replied Denby, smoothly. “I leave the discoveries to you.”

  “Very kind,” said Erland, and he, too, bent to dig.

  Joanna moved back out of the way. She found she did not at all wish to talk alone with Sir Rollin. She had thought of him a good deal in the hours since his sister’s party, and few of her thoughts had been admiring. His behavior yesterday had been abominable. All in all, Joanna was beginning to realize that she had been greatly mistaken in the man’s character.

  They stood side-by-side, in silence, watching Erland and Gerald strain with the shovels. Once again, Joanna found herself comparing Sir Rollin and Mr. Erland, but this time, the result was rather different.

  In half an hour, they had uncovered a large space of pavement. It was all of gray stone, large slabs laid end-to-end. At that point, the gentlemen stood back, and Joanna opened her camp stool and set up her sketching things. She got out charcoal and began to outline the shapes of the stones, very grateful to have something to do.

  “How long will you be, Joanna?” asked her father.

  “Not long, Papa. Perhaps a quarter of an hour.”

  “Ah. We shall go back to our previous site and poke about a bit then. You will call us when you have finished?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “Splendid. Good girl.” Mr. Rowntree turned away and led the group off to another area of ruins. Joanna bent to her sketching.

  For a while, there was silence. Joanna concentrated on the pavement, wanting to be as accurate as possible. She became engrossed in her work and heard nothing until a voice just beside her ear said, “Bo!”

  She jumped convulsively, her charcoal making a jagged mark on the paper, and whirled. “Frederick! You beast! How could you do that when I was drawing for Papa?”

  “Oh, pooh. That’s nothing. But I have found a clue!”

  “Oh, go away. I must rub this out and finish.” She began trying to take off the mark with a gum eraser.

  “Don’t you understand, I have found something really important. Not these stupid old rocks and things.” He bent closer. “A clue to the real treasure,” he whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Shh. I don’t want anyone to hear. I’ve found a place in the cellar where the floor is all scratched and the wall has been worked on.”

  “Is that all? It’s probably just old repairs. I must finish this sketch; they’re all waiting. Do leave me alone, Frederick.”

  Outraged, Frederick turned and stomped away. “To be sure I shall. I shan’t tell you anything after this!”

  Joanna hardly heard him as she worked to finish her drawing. She carefully added detail until it seemed to her that she had faithfully captured the pavement, then she went to fetch her father. She found Mr. Rowntree watching the young men gather a pile of broken crockery from one of their earlier holes. Sir Rollin stood beside him, and when she came up, he was saying, “You are expert at reading these old plans, are you not? It is most impressive. I believe they are often quite obscure.”

  “Yes indeed,” replied Rowntree, chuckling reminiscently. “The charts Erland found are a good example. A clear plan of the Abbey was overlaid with later additions and irrelevant commentary. Why someone had even drawn lines out to the north, toward where the house stands now. Though of course the house was not there. Quite ridiculous. One must know how to reject such later interpolations. There was even some writing, clearly in an eighteenth century hand. How people can deface such a document I do not understand.”

  “Really?” said Sir Rollin. “What did they write? One cannot imagine.”

  “Indeed. It was some nonsense like ‘here lies the entrance.’ Pure hogwash.” Mr. Rowntree bent over the hole in front of them. “There is another piece,” he said to Gerald. “Do not leave it.”

  “I have finished, Papa,” said Joanna behind them.

  Mr. Rowntree turned at once. “Have you? Splendid. Now we can work further on that pavement, perhaps pry a stone loose.”

  The young men climbed out of the hole, Erland and Gerald looking tired. Gerald wiped sweat from his forehead. “I suggest we lunch first, Father,” he said. “Your laborers are worn down to skin and bone and need sustenance.”

  Mr. Rowntree looked surprised, then concerned. “Of course, of course. You have been working very hard. If we could just…but no, there will be time this afternoon. We will adjourn for luncheon.” He looked around vaguely. “Did not Frederick come with us today? Where can he have gotten to?”

  “I’ll wager he’s in the stables, visiting Valiant,” offered Carstairs. “My mastiff,” he added helpfully when Mr. Rowntree continued to look perplexed.

  “Ah. Ah, yes,” replied the older man. “The dog. He seems to take more interest in that animal than in our researches. We must fetch him.”

  “I can offer you luncheon here,” said Erland, “if you don’t mind cold meat and little else. I haven’t yet found a new housekeeper.”

  “No, no, we mustn’t trespass on your kindness,” said Rowntree. “We will go home and return later in the day.”

  “I’ll fetch Frederick,” offered Joanna. Her father nodded.

  “I’ll help you,” added Erland, and he offered her his arm.

  Joanna hesitated, then smiled and took it.

  “While they are looking,” said her father, “we can just take one more glance at this pavement. I believe I saw a fissure larger than the others. It was just at the edge…” His voice faded as they drew out of earshot.

  “Your father is indefatigable,” said Erland as they picked their way across the ruins.

  “He is so interested, you see,” answered Joanna apologetically.

  “Oh, I mean no criticism. I am all admiration. I only wish I were all muscle. My digging is not what it might be.”

  “You should have help.” Distressed, Joanna looked up at him. “You need not…”

  But Erland held up a hand. “You mistake me. I was not serious. I am enjoying myself immensely.”

  There was a pause as they negotiated a particularly difficult section of the ruins, stepping over large pieces of stone and piles of rubble. When they at last reached the lawn, Erland said, “Denby is taking quite an interest in our project. It is odd, isn’t it? One wouldn’t have thought a man like him very interested in science.”

  Joanna flushed. She was becoming more and more angry with herself for having been taken in by Sir Rollin’s careless flirtation. “Yes, it is,” she replied curtly.

  Erland looked down at her set face. “He is an attractive man, I suppose. You mentioned our discovery about the secret chamber to him?”

  Joanna nodded, then, thinking he might be upset over this, added, “He already knew of your uncle’s note, so I thought it all right.”

  The man bent his head. “Of course.” He paused, then continued, “You like him?”

  Joanna met his gray eyes. “Sir Rollin?” She tried to laugh. “Oh, he is hardly the sort of man one likes, is he?”

  Erland frowned, unsure of how to take this remark. He watched her face a moment, then shrugged slightly. “Here are the stables.”

  Joanna was relieved, but also a little annoyed. Why had he given up the conversation so eas
ily? She had an impulse now to tell him what she really thought of Sir Rollin Denby, how she had been utterly disillusioned about him. But it was too late. Erland left her to look through the stables.

  “He doesn’t seem to be here after all,” he said when he returned.

  “I didn’t think he would be,” replied Joanna. “That is why I wished to come for him myself. I’m afraid he is in the house.”

  Erland smiled. “Treasure hunting?”

  Guiltily, she nodded. “I am sorry. I have told him and told him…”

  “It doesn’t matter. He is welcome to look. I hope he may find something. I have certainly failed to do so. Indeed, I now think…” He frowned and stopped.

  Joanna looked up, curious, but said nothing. If Erland did not wish to tell her what he thought, she had no right to ask.

  He smiled. “I may as well say it. I now think that it is very unlikely there is a treasure. I fear my uncle may have been playing a cruel joke on me.”

  “Oh no.”

  He shrugged. “I have searched the house from top to bottom. My only remaining hope is that it is not in the house.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He looked at her, hesitated, then replied, “I should prefer not to say. I am probably quite wrong.”

  After this, Joanna could only drop the subject. But she wondered if Erland was angry with her because of Sir Rollin. With this thought, she was so shaken that she nearly blurted out an apology, though for what she could not have said.

  They went into the house through the library and walked out into the hall. “Where do you think he is?” asked Erland.

  “The cellars.”

  The man groaned. “Of course, he would be. They are like a warren, tiny rooms connected by appallingly dusty narrow passages. We shall be an hour finding him. When I explored the cellars, I was even lost for a time.”

  Remembering what Frederick had told her earlier, Joanna asked, “Did you search them carefully?”