Gene of Isis (7 page)

I was expecting an afternoon of polite conversation and boredom, and yet, to my great delight, I could not have been more mistaken.

The older gentleman Lord Cavandish introduced over tea was the Viscount of Herefordshire, Lord Douglas Hamilton, who was a self-taught, self-styled archaeologist. He had travelled through the Near East and beyond in his younger days researching the origins of the sacred doctrines of the church. He was also a theologian who had undertaken extensive investigation into many other religions and beliefs, and had been banned from lecturing at English universities because of his open views. Still, he’d made a fortune lecturing on the Continent and his fame made him something of a celebrity at home. Lord Cavandish was very fond of him, as he had attended many of the viscount’s lectures before his services had been politely discontinued by the English system.

‘I knew that you would be something of a fascination for Miss Granville, Lord Hereford.’ Lord Cavandish gave a chuckle, noting that my gaze had not shifted from the viscount in over fifteen
minutes. ‘She has long aspired to travel…to pursue an interest in the very same area of your speciality.’

I was spellbound by the tales of France, Italy, Egypt and India. Lord Hereford chose his words for clarity, and the warm velvet character of his voice made listening to him speak an absolute pleasure. The tales of his travels were to me more uplifting than the most stirring adagio, more intriguing than a work of the theatre could ever dare to be, and more tangible and personal than any book I had ever read.

‘You have an interest in ancient doctrines, Miss Granville?’ the viscount inquired politely.

The viscount was still a handsome man, and I won’t say ‘for his age’, because he was just handsome—period. His greying fair hair only made him appear more dignified. He was trim from a life on the move, and had skin that had seen too many days in the hot sun. His eyes were pale blue, large and sunken into their sockets, and although weary-looking now, his face had many laugh-lines.

‘A vested interest, you might say,’ I commented, finding myself to be a little more cheeky and vivacious than usual. I had never so wanted to seem mature in my life and not give the appearance of a silly young girl. ‘I was fortunate enough to have had Lord Derby’s library in Dumfries at my disposal for the last ten years, and the Dowager Countess of Derby, Lady Charlotte Cavandish, has collected many fascinating and rare books from her time on the Continent.’

The viscount’s smile conveyed to me a fond recognition of my governess’ name; I rather suspected that she and the viscount would be firm friends as they held similar views. ‘I have studied
the Bible closely and found many inconsistencies that I feel need more examination than those of us who are not of the cloth are permitted to undertake. For example, I wonder why the salves mentioned in relation to the embalming of the dead body of our Lord Jesus were all healing salves?’ The viscount seemed to be surprised and delighted by my musings. ‘And when Moses and the Israelites left the Nile Delta, their obvious route to Canaan would have led across the wilderness of the northern Sinai…so why did they push southward into difficult high country to spend time at the mountain now known as Mt Sinai? It certainly wasn’t to get the Ten Commandments because, as far as I can tell, they were taken from a verse in the ancient Egyptian Book
of the Dead.
And besides, it is far more likely that the mountain Moses reportedly visited was the one now known as Mt Serâbit.’

When the viscount looked to Lord Cavandish, shocked, I feared I had gone too far, yet Lord Cavandish responded with a smile and a knowing nod. The visiting lord looked back to me and a grin formed on his face. ‘That was precisely the information I was pursuing in my travels.’

I gasped. I couldn’t help it, it was as if I’d just found God! ‘You are Douglas Hamilton! Who wrote the treatise on the mistaken location of Mt Sinai?’ My grin broadened as the viscount nodded, a blush of pride upon his face. ‘Of course, the Dowager Countess of Derby bought a copy when on the Continent.’

‘I am amazed that a copy made it to England,’ chuckled the old scholar. ‘I never thought to be read at home.’

‘This is hardly suitable conversation to be having
in the presence of impressionable young women.’ Lord Devere spoke up on behalf of his sister Catherine and Lady Susan, neither of whom showed any dismay at my questioning, although Lord Devere did himself seem rattled. Susan had heard plenty of the same from me in the past, but she suppressed a grin and tried to seem grateful for the intervention of her new love interest.

‘I do apologise, Lord Devere,’ Lord Hamilton replied, ‘but as your family motto is “No truth higher than the truth”, I rather expected your kin would be more open-minded.’

I was forced to suck in my cheeks to refrain from laughter, and I bowed my head and coughed into my napkin to disguise my amusement.

‘Perhaps a stroll in the garden, ladies.’ Lord Devere offered his sister and Susan an arm.

Oh yes, the young earl admired my good friend. I didn’t need to read his thoughts to know that he was falling in love with her. The rosy pink glow of his heart had almost penetrated the confines of his body and once his heart’s energy mingled with hers, it would be all over. I was pleased to note that Susan was being cautious with her affections; Lord Devere was much keener than she was at this stage of the game and that information would certainly please Susan when she came for her report later today.

Lord Neith was easily persuaded into taking a stroll with his wife-to-be. ‘Will you join us, Earnest?’ Lady Catherine asked her younger brother, who had been standing by the window admiring the view.

‘I am rather interested in the conversation,’ he said lightheartedly, and moved to join those of us seated on the lounges by the low-burning fire.

For a moment I thought I might have underestimated Mr Devere, but then the realisation hit me.
Of course he’d take my side.
He was after my inheritance and wealth, despite his large yearly allowance. As a second son he would not inherit. He would have to buy land or be granted an estate and title by the king—or better, and easier still, he could marry into a peerage.

I immediately turned my attention back to the viscount. ‘Did you travel to the Sinai?’

‘That I did. And I made many interesting discoveries there,’ he added, to heighten the intrigue. ‘I hope to discuss the subject with you in greater detail, Miss Granville, but as I have yet to settle my staff into our lodgings in town, I really should press on.’

‘Oh no…’ I protested, looking desperately at Lord Cavandish, who held a finger to his smiling lips to quiet my distress.

‘Would you not consider gracing my house with your presence, Lord Hereford? I know you are here to visit with your ailing sister and that Hartsford Manor is further afield from her bedside, but the town is only a short carriage ride from here. I feel sure that your stay in Derbyshire would be far more comfortably spent under my roof.’

The old scholar was honoured by the hospitality of his one-time student. ‘So generous an offer could hardly be declined, my good Derby. I would be delighted to be your guest.’

‘Very well,’ Lord Derby said. ‘I shall have my staff see to it.’ He motioned to the steward by the door, who withdrew at once to make the arrangements.

‘However,’ the viscount added, ‘for the moment,
I must drag myself away from this stimulating company.’

I think I must have blushed when the distinguished lord looked my way.

‘I am still eager to see my sister and, with hope, I shall find her in good health and will return before dinner.’ Lord Hamilton rose, as did we all.

‘Would it be possible,’ I addressed Lord Cavandish, ‘and if I would not be a nuisance to Lord Hereford, for me to accompany him into town? I am in need of some stationery,’ I added as an afterthought, hoping my want of his conversation would not seem completely obvious.

‘I am also in such need,’ Mr Devere advised Lord Derby, ‘and I could save my weary horse another labour this day.’

‘Of course, my
dear
children,’ said Lord Hereford warmly, and my heart sank at his use of the term ‘children’. ’I’d be glad to be of service to my gracious host’s guests and to have your company.’

It seemed Mr Devere was intent on becoming my shadow—everywhere I’d turned today he was there. I did hope this was not a sign for the weeks ahead, as his presence was very counter-productive to my goals. Not that I was entirely sure what my goals were—all I wanted at this moment was to get Lord Hamilton alone and pursue our conversation. Clearly, Mr Devere was not going to make it easy for my wish to become reality.

Susan entered my room that evening and I barely recognised her!

Her soft blue gown enhanced her baby blue eyes perfectly. When she wore dark clothes, or white—as we’d been forced to as children—her eyes appeared
to have a steely blue shade, but this evening Susan’s eyes sparkled like gemstones. Unlike me, Susan had been blessed with dead straight hair of deepest brown, which shone like silk under light. It framed her face and was rolled under her ears and wound into a bun at the back of her head. Her hair was laced with diamonds and sapphires that matched her tiara. A hint of makeup made her appear older, as did the low-cut neckline of her dress. Her gown, like mine, was long-sleeved, and in accordance with the latest fashion was completed with short white silken gloves.

‘Oh, my lord, I barely recognise you,’ Susan said, before I could speak. ‘You are just beautiful, Ashlee!’ She swung me around to face the mirror.

I had to admit that I barely recognised myself either. The unruly wave of my chestnut hair did not lend itself to the latest hairstyles as Susan’s did, so the front of my hair sat in tight ringlets around my face, and the rest was rolled into a bun at the back. I did have hair jewels that I’d never had the opportunity to wear, but I had passed them over in favour of some spring flowers. I fancied myself as being rather like a wood nymph. The pinky beige of my dress, trimmed with deep brown, lent itself to my little fantasy, and as my eyes were hazel-green the colours suited me well enough.

Something in deep green would have been my first choice, but Nanny was terribly suspicious of anything green, be it fabric, paper or paint. Her father had worked in fabrics and had warned that copper arsenate, an arsenic-copper mix, was used to produce green shades in the silk substitute fabric, tarlatane. Nanny’s father had observed that a terrible illness, and in most cases death, came to
those who had had contact with the green fabric or its dyes and tints. Medical science had yet to publish an investigation into the proposed connection but, for the layman, green was fast becoming a taboo colour to work with, or to decorate
anything
with—copper arsenate was also used to produce green in paint, wallpaper and flypaper.

‘But do I look older?’ That was my main concern.

‘Infinitely,’ Susan reassured me. ‘So…how did your little outing go?’ She suspected my need of maturity had been triggered this afternoon, as god knew I’d never wished for it before this day.

‘I think I’m in love,’ I replied whimsically.

‘I knew it!’ Susan was thrilled and I along with her. ‘We will be sisters.’

‘You mistake my meaning.’ My excitement was dulled only slightly. ‘It is not Mr Devere who has captured my heart, but Lord Hereford. He’s a widower, you know?’ I winked at her to lighten her mood.

Susan’s jaw dropped. ‘But he’s old enough to be your grandfather!’

‘I don’t see his age,’ I protested. ‘The attraction is his wisdom, his knowledge, his experience!’

Susan stood there, clearly beyond speech as she considered the best response. ‘He would make you a countess, I guess.’ She smiled warmly in encouragement, and took hold of both my hands. ‘So, even if we can’t be sisters, we’ll both be a countess.’ She swung me around and then abruptly came to a standstill. ‘Will we? Both be a countess?’ Susan subtly raised our little agreement of this morning.

‘What do you think?’ I teased her, looking into the mirror to fiddle with my curls.

‘I think that you had better honour our agreement,’ Susan stated, hands on hips and clearly annoyed by my stalling.

‘You’re the one.’ I smiled confidently.

Susan gasped, and then squealed into her cupped hands. ‘And you are absolutely sure about that?’

I served her an injured look. ‘Am I ever wrong?’

‘Oh my.’ She drew in a deep breath to contain her excitement. ‘By the time I am presented at court, I might already be engaged!’

Every young noblewoman’s dream, as only the most eligible and beautiful young women managed to escape the marriage market. ‘Highly likely,’ I commented, nonchalant.

Susan giggled, as my indifference made it all the surer. ‘I am so happy!’ She clasped her hands to her heart and twirled around in her evening dress, like some princess from a mediaeval romance novel—or a character from one of my stories.

‘You and me both,’ I confirmed with a kiss to her cheek, and, due to the clash of makeup, we spent the next quarter of an hour in front of the mirror.

My first official social engagement could not have been more memorable.

There was the minor inconvenience of having Mr Devere seated on my right, but to the best of my recollection he happily exchanged words with Lady Vanessa Cavandish for most of the evening. To my left was Lord Hamilton, by whose conversation I remained transfixed for the four courses of the meal. I was transported to the discovery of a temple complex at Serâbit el-Khâdim, which dated back to four thousand years before Christ. Lord Hereford theorised that this complex, if excavated, could
prove to be the location of Moses’ mount from the Bible.

I was captivated as I listened to Lord Hamilton relate how he and his associates fought to create interest in the project and raise funds for the huge excavation. At every turn the doors of the Establishment, which were closely watched by church interests, had been slammed in their faces. Lord Hamilton sank twenty years of his life into the excavation, and as much money as he was permitted by the claim of primogeniture on his family fortune.