Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress (18 page)

Selina had gathered Jack Townsend and Jonathan Erland to her table, along with one of her female friends from the neighborhood. When Joanna and Sir Rollin came up, she said, “There, we are six. Let us sit down before someone tries to part us.”

Sir Rollin looked chagrined, but he could not now escape without being extremely rude. Jonathan Erland smiled warmly at Joanna and held a chair for her, which she dropped into at once. She was too preoccupied even to remember that she had been nervous about seeing him again.

With poor grace, Sir Rollin took the remaining chair on her other side, and everyone sat down.

Selina was overjoyed with her position between Jack and Jonathan Erland. She bounced in her chair as the servants began to bring around the food, and showed every sign of ominous overexcitement. Joanna was alarmed to see her accept a glass of champagne when one of the waiters offered it, and she tried to catch her friend's eye without success. Her own concerns receded a little as she wondered how she might hint that Selina should curb her spirits. Should she mention her mishap at Erland's picnic? No, that would be unkind.

“I have not even spoken to you yet,” said Jonathan Erland then. “How do you do?”

His easy, pleasant voice somehow filled Joanna with a vast relief. She could not have said just why, but suddenly her problems seemed much less significant. She smiled up at him in gratitude. “I am all right.”

Her tone made him look closely at her, but he said only, “Your father is not here today?”

Joanna's smile broadened. “No. He could not bear the idea of another party.”

Erland smiled. “Ah. I shall see him tomorrow at the ruins then.”

“You have found something?” asked Denby sharply, leaning forward around Joanna.

Erland looked at him blandly. “What do you mean?”

Denby drew back. “Nothing, nothing.”

“I say!” exclaimed Jack Townsend suddenly. “What the deuce was that?”

Everyone looked up, startled. Jack had spoken very loudly. They followed the direction of his gaze, but there was nothing there except trees.

“I saw a face staring out at us,” said Jack. “Frightening thing. It seemed all surrounded by hair.” He turned back a bit sheepishly and looked at his champagne glass. “Can't have imagined it.”

“Not at all, Townsend,” said Sir Rollin. “That was my sister's hermit.”

Jack goggled at him. “Beg pardon?”

“Hadn't you heard? Adrienne hired a hermit.”

“H-hired?” Jack was obviously out of his depth. He looked helplessly around the table.

“Oh, how I wish I had seen him!” exclaimed Selina.

“You'll see him,” answered Denby drily. “He has instructions to show himself about the edges of the clearing every few minutes. Must be quite tedious for the poor fellow.”

“I should say so,” said Jonathan Erland. He sounded much more sincere than Denby.

“B-but all that hair,” said Jack.

“Oh, yes, he has been growing it for weeks. Adrienne is so pleased.”

The tone of Sir Rollin's voice made Joanna wince. And at that moment, Adrienne herself came up. “Is everyone enjoying himself?” she asked. “Can I have anything brought for you?”

“We are getting on splendidly, my dear,” answered her brother. “Townsend has seen your hermit, and I have been telling everyone about him.” The mockery was so clear that Adrienne flushed.

“Indeed? Well, I hope Mr. Townsend was not startled. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I know he hasn't been well. Have you completely recovered from your wetting, Mr. Townsend?”

Jack signified that he had.

“I'm so glad. That was a nasty storm. Rollin was very lucky to reach home before the rain really began.” And with one sharp triumphant look at her brother, Adrienne moved on to the next table.

Joanna looked at Sir Rollin, then away. He had distinctly told her that he had been caught out in the storm.

The man said nothing and looked sublimely unaware that there was anything to be said.

At that moment, Selina screeched, “Oh, I saw him; I saw him!” She swept out an arm extravagantly. “I saw the hermit, over there!” Unfortunately, her arm caught her full glass of champagne and knocked it flying across the table. The liquid hit Jonathan Erland's shoulder, smacked wetly across Joanna's face, and ended up squarely in Sir Rollin Denby's lap. All of them pulled back, startled.

“Oohhh,” breathed Selina. “Oh, I beg your pardon.”

Joanna put a hand to her wet cheek.

“Oh, how clumsy I am,” moaned Selina. “How could I be so careless? I declare I did not see that glass at all.”

“It's nothing,” replied Jonathan Erland. He pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Joanna. “A drop merely. We'll have it off in a trice.” He paid no attention to his damp coat and shoulder.

Joanna wiped her cheek gratefully, and started to reassure Selina, but before she could speak, Sir Rollin Denby was on his feet. “A drop!” he said cuttingly. “Hardly.” His waistcoast and pantaloons were drenched. “Your ineptitude is only exceeded by your plainness, Miss Grant.” And with this, he turned and stalked away.

“Oh dear,” said the other girl at the table. “How rude.”

“It certainly was,” agreed Jack Townsend. “I've half a mind to go after him and bring him to book.” He frowned, but made no attempt to rise.

“Oh no,” said Selina. “You mustn't. I was abominably clumsy.” She sounded near tears.

Erland took his handkerchief from Joanna's limp hand and began to wipe his coat. “Might have happened to anyone,” he said. “With that hermit about, I shall be surprised if we don't see a good many spills today.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Jack eagerly. “I dashed near knocked over my glass when I saw him. Gave me quite a start.”

“Yes,” agreed Joanna. “It was hardly your fault, Selina. And no harm was done. I am not even wet.”

“But Mr. Erland is,” murmured Selina, all her high spirits crushed. “And…and Sir Rollin. Oh, I thought I should sink when he…”

“Don't think of it,” said Erland. “He was upset for a moment. I daresay he will apologize later.” He said this heartily, but without much conviction.

“Not him,” protested Jack Townsend. Then, catching Erland's eye, he added, “Or, that is, yes, of course. It's nothing but a trifle, Selina. Bound to get over it.”

“Look there,” said Erland. “We are to have ices. Mrs. Finley has certainly outdone me all along the line.”

This attempt to divert everyone's attention was partly successful. And when Joanna added, “There must be four or five kinds,” Selina brightened perceptibly.

“I'll go snatch us some from that fellow there,” said Jack, indicating a waiter with a large tray. “It'll take him forever to get to us.”

This notion was applauded, and Erland offered his help. By the time they returned, laden, Joanna had so soothed Selina that she could laugh at the gentlemen's antics in serving the ices. And the group's enjoyment in eating two, or in some cases three, each was hardly clouded. The meal ended in merriment with Erland describing his efforts to get ices in Canada, one day when his nostalgic longing for them was acute, and his utter failure to do so.

The company rose from the table by two thirty. Sir Rollin did not reappear, and no one seemed to miss him. Adrienne had not planned any games for the afternoon; rather, she called all the young people together and tried to get them to dance to the strains of the small orchestra. But at midafternoon it was rather warm, and her guests showed more inclination for strolling about the gardens chatting and flirting. After a time, she gave up with an annoyed shrug and left them to it.

Selina went to speak to her mother, to pour out the tale of her further disgrace, and Joanna was left with Jonathan Erland, who offered his arm and suggested a walk. Only now did Joanna remember her embarrassment, and she was a little reluctant to go. But Erland had been so gallant over lunch that she could not refuse.

As soon as they were away from the others, she expressed her gratitude. “You were so kind to Selina. Thank you!”

He shrugged, smiling. “I really did no more than say the truth. It wasn't any great tragedy, after all.”

“No, but it was awkward for poor Selina. And Sir Rollin…” Joanna paused. She did not want to talk about Sir Rollin. His behavior all day had been inexcusable, and she was still too upset herself to consider it.

“Ah, well,” answered Erland lightly, “if my clothes were as elegant as his, I daresay I should be angrier when they were wetted. I wonder if he's coming back? He must have changed by now.”

Joanna said nothing, and after a moment, Erland changed the subject, to her relief.

They walked through the wilderness to the other side and strolled around its edge, admiring some beds of flowers that backed up to the wall of the park. Then, as they rounded a corner, they came abruptly upon Constance Williston and Gerald, sitting on a rustic bench and, Joanna was certain, holding hands, though they moved quickly apart when they saw the newcomers.

“Hello,” said Gerald. “We had to get away from that monstrous temple. So we, we came out here.” He smiled a little sheepishly.

“Do you call it monstrous?” asked Erland, also smiling.

Gerald's eyes kindled. “What else? How could they
build
a Greek temple? It is…it is…blasphemous!”

“Oh no,” exclaimed Constance.

“Well, no, not exactly that, but very near. I can't stand to look at it.”

“And you needn't,” finished Constance calmly, “You may look at the flowers instead.” She gestured toward the wall.

“Yes.” Gerald turned to his sister. “Joanna did you know that Constance, Miss Williston, knows all about flowers? She had just been telling me.”

Joanna nodded and smiled. Constance flushed a little, but looked remarkably happy.

“Well, it is dashed fascinating.”

“We won't interrupt your discussion in that case,” put in Erland. “We were going to look at the side garden.”

“Yes,” agreed Joanna, still smiling. “We will see you later.”

They walked on. After a while, Erland said, “That will be a fine match, I think.”

Joanna looked up at him, surprised. “Did you notice it? I think you're right. It's the greatest thing. I never thought Gerald would marry.”

“He's very lucky. I should think they will suit admirably.”

“Oh, yes. Constance is interested in all his boring ideas.”

He laughed.

“I didn't mean…” began Joanna.

“I know,” said Erland. “I know exactly.”

Joanna cocked her head, a bit doubtful, but she felt again that same warm relief she had experienced when sitting down to luncheon. Mr. Erland really was a good friend.

At that moment, they came out into the side garden, finding some of the other guests there, and their private conversation came to an end.

The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly. Sir Rollin did not reappear, and there were no new disasters. Mrs. Rowntree called for their carriage at four, and Joanna climbed up without regret. She had much to think of and was very ready to go home. Gerald went back to tea with the Willistons, and as they drove off, Mrs. Rowntree said, “I am so glad.”

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

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.