A Druid Stone

by Kim Allred

  "I'd be happy to confirm it," Thorn muttered as he stroked his sword with a polishing rag.

  "When is this party?" Thomas asked.

  "One week from today."

  Moans filled the room.

  "That gives us little time to come up with a plan." Ethan had a faraway gaze, no doubt mentally reviewing what little information Beckworth had shared.

  "Who said we didn't have a plan?" Beckworth rubbed his hands together as if to accentuate a diabolical plot. "I've been doing some research and started a couple of items in motion."

  "Without talking to us?" Finn seemed exasperated with the man, and they'd barely begun.

  "Time is of the essence, and this will be difficult enough with only three house servants and this rangy group." Beckworth held out his hands in a gesture that asked what else could he do? "I've only spoken to highly trusted individuals."

  Ethan and Finn glanced at each other.

  "Look, mate." Beckworth sighed and leaned against the wall, hands tucked loosely across his chest. "You know I could care two bits for that book. I'd rather never see nor hear anything about those bloody stones again." When his gaze turned toward Finn, there was bright determination in his stare. "Waverly is mine. I worked for it. I did damnable things to achieve it. It was never owned by the duke, therefore, not some family heirloom for dear brother Reginald to snap up."

  "So, we're to trust that you're here because helping us helps you," Lando grumbled, startling AJ by his sudden interest. She'd thought he had dozed off.

  "Good God, man, no. Never trust me. But, yes. As long as our paths are connected to a common goal, I'll play my part for our success. Where our paths diverge, I'll go my way, and you go yours. As long as it's not my life for yours, we're on the same side in this."

  The men glanced at each other before turning to study Beckworth, judging the worth of his statement.

  Finn made the first move, pushing Beckworth to the side, allowing more room for Thomas to step closer to the map. "So, what can you tell us?"

  45

  For the next two days, the team moved to Eleanor's farmhouse in shifts, maintaining a vigil for Dugan's men. AJ had been happy to return until Beckworth told her about the dress fitting with Dame Ellingsworth. She'd been a nervous wreck ever since, and nothing Finn said made a difference. The last time she'd seen Dame Ellingsworth had been during her first time jump and visit to Waverly Manor. The woman had terrified AJ, almost as much as Ellingsworth's younger friend, Lady Agatha.

  AJ shivered at the memory as she watched the landscape slide by. She and Maire traveled north for the fitting, and AJ could hardly wait to get it over with. As they drew closer to the estate, AJ developed the hiccups.

  "What's wrong?" Maire chortled.

  "Hiccups," she squelched out.

  "Yes. They're hard to disguise. Why are you holding your breath?"

  "To get them to stop."

  Maire's laughter almost doubled her over. "By passing out?"

  AJ blew out the air she'd been holding at the same as a laugh erupted, forcing a cough. Maire patted her back until AJ pushed her away. "Enough. I'm having a hard enough time breathing." Maire's unexpected response to her hiccup remedy drained the tension from AJ's shoulders. She was certain Lando could hear their laughter from the coachman's bench, and it took several minutes before they calmed and fell back against their seats. To AJ's relief, the hiccups vanished.

  Maire checked her hair and smoothed her skirt as she leaned out the window. "You've been on edge ever since Beckworth told you about the fitting. You were the one who agreed to attend the ball rather than me."

  "Only because it made more sense. You know the estate. You'll be better at sneaking around and snooping. And let's face it, no mask will disguise you."

  "You're such a flatterer. So what else is wrong?"

  AJ bit her lower lip. She hated to appear timid. "It's Dame Ellingsworth. She's a bit of a barracuda."

  "You met before?"

  "When I was here the first time. Before Finn left for London."

  Maire nodded. "I remember Beckworth spoke of her often. Even then, she seemed to be one of the few aristocrats he seemed fond of."

  "I wish we knew his ultimate game."

  "You don't think it's what he's told us?"

  AJ shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes he seems honest about what he wants."

  "And then he slips back into his role of scoundrel." Maire sat back with a heavy sigh. "We may never know. The only thing we can do is hope he doesn't betray us." She glanced to the window. "We're here."

  AJ scooted to the window. The estate looked remarkably similar to Waverly, as if a roving architect had traveled the countryside with his satchel of small castle sketches. She snorted. The current-day developer.

  "Ready to tread dark waters?" Maire's smile was mischievous as she followed AJ from the coach.

  AJ straightened her shoulders and gazed up at the formidable door. "I feel better that you're here."

  Maire grasped her hand, and they mounted the stairs together. The door opened before they reached the porch, and a dour-faced butler bowed his head as they stepped through the door. It seemed the main skill requirement for a butler was to wear a permanent frown. She hadn't seen one who could actually smile. Not even at Hensley's.

  "Dame Ellingsworth will receive you in the sitting room. Follow me."

  The mansion was elegant and competed with Waverly for the number and quality of art pieces. But where Beckworth seemed to have jammed them wherever they fit, Dame Ellingsworth had a lighter touch. Each room as elegant as the last. AJ always assumed Beckworth had picked the most expensive pieces he could find because that had been his perception of being rich. But she had to rethink that. He knew exactly what he had collected at Waverly. After years of being penniless, he'd immersed himself into what pleased him. And he yearned for knowledge. Like his library. It wasn't just for show. Based on their conversations when she'd been his guest, he'd probably read most of the books.

  The butler led them to a room the size of Waverly's main sitting room, but it seemed more airy and bright. Probably due to the lighter walls and honey-colored woods of the furniture. Dame Ellingsworth and another young woman sat in front of the hearth hunched over their needlework. Their voices were nothing but a whisper, but Dame Ellingsworth must have been sharing some sordid tale because the young woman kept blushing. When the butler announced them, Dame Ellingsworth bounced up as if she'd been waiting all day for their arrival.

  "My dear, Miss Moore. It is so good to see you again." She turned to Maire. "My, what a beauty we have here. Miss Murphy, isn't it?"

  Maire extended her a slight curtsy. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dame Ellingsworth. AJ and the viscount have shared many good words about you."

  She waved her hand. "Call me Elizabeth. And I wouldn't believe a thing Teddy tells you about me."

  When AJ and Maire exchanged a look, Elizabeth laughed and winked. "I'm more of an old gossip than Teddy would ever let on. That man has always been too good to me."

  Another Beckworth fan. Not surprising, since Dame Ellingsworth had seemed a frequent visitor to Waverly. AJ shifted her attention to the other woman in the room.

  "Let me introduce you to Countess LaVelle."

  After the introductions were completed, Elizabeth motioned for the countess to put her needlework away. "It's such a lovely day, why don't you take a stroll in the gardens. I left a book of John Milton in your room. I thought you might enjoy it."

  The young woman's smile faded, but she nodded politely before leaving, a young maid following her.

  "Poor dear. That atrocious mother of hers married her off to that despicable old count. He has one foot in the grave, and that child is simply too young for him. I think he's hoping for another heir, but I doubt he has any seed left the way he spread it around over the years."

  AJ almost spit out the tea she'd been served, not expecting such talk from a woman of this century.

  "No doubt she'll be a
wealthy widow soon," Maire suggested.

  Elizabeth laughed. "That is the silver lining. Which is why I've been encouraging her to read, but she shows no interest." She sighed and set down her teacup. "Well, she'll eventually remarry and make lots of babies, and that will be enough for her." She glanced at AJ. "Now, let's see about that fitting."

  Elizabeth led them through the estate to a small parlor where a woman was busy sewing.

  AJ stopped in her tracks when she spotted the dress on the mannequin. Made of deep russet silk, the cap sleeves were covered in tiny beads the same color as the dress. Lace, also in the same dark shade, covered the bodice before the silk skirt fell away to rest just a few inches from the floor. Though it was all one color, the different textures of the dress took her breath away.

  "I didn't think I was supposed to stand out," AJ whispered as she approached the dress.

  "It's a beautiful color," Maire said. "It matches your hair and complexion well."

  "You can't go to a ball dressed in anything less. That alone would make you stand out." Elizabeth closed the door behind them. "I have no doubt you'll turn heads when you first arrive, so you'll want to keep your head down and pretend the event is more than you're used to."

  "That won't be difficult."

  Elizabeth chortled. "Once you join the rest of the party, you'll disappear into the crowd. Anyone of your young age, even with a husband or suitor at your side, would be wearing brighter colors, wanting to stand out. No, I think this is the perfect dress for your mission."

  AJ flinched at the word, still a little dazed that someone like Dame Ellingsworth would be involved in one of Beckworth's capers.

  She spent the next hour playing pincushion. Though the dress made her feel like one of her father's storied queens, she was more than ready to strip it off when the seamstress finally glanced at Dame Ellingsworth, who nodded her approval. Tea had been brought in and the women sat in the corner eating finger sandwiches while the seamstress went back to her sewing.

  "I understand you're staying with Eleanor." Elizabeth eyed her guests. "Don't look like I've just spilled some secret. I've known Eleanor for a few years now. She worked at Waverly when she first arrived from London."

  "She's from London?" For some reason, that surprised AJ.

  "Oh, yes. She joined the staff when Teddy first took ownership of the estate."

  "And what happened to the first inhabitant of the estate?" Maire asked, a slight edge to her tone.

  "To the original Countess of Waverly?" Elizabeth cocked her head. If she noticed Maire's tightening lips, she didn't show it. "I didn't see her last season, but we never entertained in the same circles. Last I heard she had a nice townhouse near Hyde Park."

  "I'd heard she was destitute." AJ remembered Finn telling her something along those lines, having to leave Waverly in disgrace.

  "Oh, that was her husband. He couldn't manage the clothes on his back and gambled away what little money he had." Elizabeth sat back, her elbows resting on the chair as she steepled her fingers. AJ noticed for the first time the swollen knuckles she associated with arthritis. If the woman had been afflicted, she hid her discomfort. "The countess had her own money, and personally, I think she was thrilled when the old coot died. She couldn't wait to get back to London. She left most of the estate belongings behind. They were the only things left of her husband, and she wanted nothing to do with the art, books, or furniture. Teddy has been selling off the pieces he doesn't like, but he's careful, researching each piece. I think that's why he seems to know so many people. He's quite the negotiator when it comes to his art."

  AJ wasn't sure if she meant the art or his skill at the con. The story did explain the overstuffed feel of the place, and she couldn't argue Beckworth's eye for fine works. She remembered salivating over the Chippendales.

  "And Eleanor?" Maire redirected the conversation.

  Elizabeth lowered her voice into that gossip tone. "I noticed her right away. She obviously hadn't grown up in service. She tried hard but never had the knack for the proper way to do things in a household. The housekeeper was constantly reprimanding her, but Teddy protected her. He finally confided in me that Eleanor had been raised in a house of prostitution before working as a dressmaker in the theater. She had protected him in his younger days. When he settled at Waverly, he'd sent for her.

  He saw right away that she'd never make it in the household. So, after selling off several of the more expensive, though ghastly, works of art the previous viscount had collected, he bought the cottage where she lives." She brushed crumbs off her dress. "They have some sort of arrangement, as he does with several of the townspeople and other small estates. Some are business arrangements, others are some form of protection." She shrugged when she noticed her guests staring at her. "Teddy learned early on that you need friends in many places and not always with the aristocrats. He has a large heart for the working class. Don't let his obnoxious persona fool you. He's a very smart man, though he likes to hide it."

  When the tea was done, Elizabeth escorted them to the front door. She picked up an envelope from a side table in the foyer. "You'll need this."

  AJ took the envelope and opened it. "I'd forgotten. The invitation."

  "You won't get in without it. This Reginald has thought of everything." She hesitated. "When I had this invitation made, I discovered something I don't think Teddy is aware of. There are two different invitations. Yours is the one most have received, including me. But there's another one made on black paper. I haven't seen it. I've only been told that it appears to be an invitation to a secret meeting. It wasn't very specific, just the same place and date as the ball. Though the time was several hours later. The printer mentioned one other thing. A certain phrase that stood out. Something about a druid gathering."

  A cold shiver ran through AJ. She could only stare at the invitation in her hands, the words blurring. A hand rested on her arm, and she glanced up to see Maire watching her. AJ put the invitation back in the envelope and managed a brave smile for her hostess. "Well, this should be interesting."

  "Be careful, my dear." Elizabeth's concern both comforted and terrified her. "And I don't mean just with Reginald."

  AJ tilted her head, not understanding. Did they have something else to worry about with Beckworth?

  "Lady Agatha Osborne will be there, and I have no doubt she'll remember you."

  46

  Finn moved chess pieces around the map of Waverly. The elegant chess set had been a gift from Beckworth, or so Eleanor had told Finn. The white king, a weathered piece of ivory, sat in the middle of the manor—Reginald. The pawns represented Dugan's guards outside the manor, the rooks and knights were guards positioned at the manor doors, and two bishops were stationed close to the king.

  Finn's team, in gleaming ebony, were split between the manor and the estate. The black king and queen would be Ethan and AJ, who would be attending the ball as Lord and Lady Beecham. Their job would be to keep an eye on Reginald and ensure he didn't leave the ball. If he did, AJ would signal Letty, one of the lady's maids, to set their distraction in motion.

  He considered various entry and exit scenarios, but everything came down to timing and luck. The plan inside the manor had been discussed at length, and the team had come to the same conclusion—Beckworth was right. The book would be in Reginald's bedroom, just as Beckworth's former butler claimed. Nothing else made sense.

  Reginald's room was locked whenever he wasn't there, and his valet chaperoned servants when they had to be in the room. The servants' schedules were routine and well organized, but the additional staff brought in for the ball would be Dugan's Achilles' heel—spreading disorder in the manor.

  Maire had insisted she be given time to check Beckworth's study, which Reginald still used. Everyone agreed the book wouldn't be there, but she suspected there'd be other items that might explain Reginald's activities. Finn placed an ebony pawn on the map that represented the library. The room, at the end of a short hall, wouldn't
be easy to breach and had only one entrance.

  Eleanor had devised a plan to get Maire to the room—if they found the time. Finn moved two pieces around the exterior and sipped coffee as he considered the advantages and disadvantages of the change.

  "Do you expect to divine a miracle?" Ethan pushed his mug aside. "You've been moving pieces for the last two hours, and we've already been through every possible angle of entry and exit. Unless Beckworth hears something more, this is what we have."

  "And I doubt Beckworth will have anything more to share." Thomas stood. "Let's take a break and watch Thorn try to take the young captain in a sword fight."

  Finn stared at the map one last time. The tension in his neck abated at Thomas's suggestion, and he grinned. "I would be careful if you're taking bets. I agree young Jamie has been taught by the finest, but no one masters the sword like Thorn."

  Thomas shook his head and smiled in return. "It will almost be a shame to take your money." Thomas feigned a lunge. "With Lando's training and Jamie's size, it doesn't seem a fair fight."

  Finn's grin widened. "I think I'll take that bet."

  Thomas held out his hand, and they shook.

  The three men walked out of the cottage to an unexpectedly sunny day. The clashing of swords had been going on throughout the morning as the men trained. Fitz sprawled on the edge of a grassy patch, sweat covering his brow and staining his shirt. The rest of the men had found places to settle while they watched the two men left in the clearing, parrying and lunging with their swords.

  The two men wanted to put on a good show, and they danced around the clearing as they displayed their skill. But as time wore on, Jamie's movements became more erratic while Thorn took advantage.

  "You're dropping your arm." Thorn sneered.

  "That's because it's ready to fall off." Jamie sidestepped, but Thorn had anticipated the move and touched the tip of his sword in the middle of Jamie's chest.

  Jamie dropped to the ground as if the sword had gone through. "I yield."