Page 20 of The Trials of Alaric
Alaric nodded. “They have similar interests, from what I have seen. That bodes well for a happy marriage, does it not?”
“I note,” she commented, “you don’t say they are from the same level of Society, or some such.”
“Is it blasphemy to say I’m not certain how much that matters?” Alaric asked, and they exchanged smiles. They were of one mind on that, though as the second son of an earl, Alaric was certainly qualified to be on Lord Claddach’s list. And there he was again, thinking of himself as husband material, if the wife in question were Lady Beatrice.
She was not his usual sort. He had to admit he had previously been attracted to women who seemed to need him—fragile creatures whose helplessness made him determined to defend them from all storms. Lady Beatrice would scorn to beconsidered helpless. Indeed, her practical good sense and her competence were evident at every turn. He rather liked it.
Enough self-reflection. He exerted himself to converse, first with Lady Beatrice and then, after the first remove, with her cousin, Lady Lucy Hetherington, who was on his other side. The contrast was edifying. Lady Lucy was younger, of course, perhaps by four years. He’d had to force himself to listen to her prattle about the clothes she’d worn to the race and the music piece she would play after dinner and the items she bought in a village during the day out. No. Lady Beatrice had surely never been so shallow.
Later, he would acknowledge he owed Lady Lucy a debt of gratitude, for he might have gone straight up to bed had she not begged him to come and listen to her play, “…for you are such a kind gentleman, Mr. Redhaven, whatever Beverley says, and I know you will be nice about my music.”
So, he went with everyone else to the music room, to listen to the ladies take it in turn to showcase their talents. Some sang, some played on the piano, Lady Eleanor played the harp, Miss Howard declaimed a poem.
Lady Lucy played competently, but without a real feeling for the music. He clapped enthusiastically anyway, and she beamed at him. His enthusiasm wasn’t for her, though. He had just noticed the mural that ran all along one wall—two scenes from the story of Persephone and Hades. It was the words above those scenes that had set his pulse racing. They belonged to a long frieze of sayings, but these two spoke straight to the poem from the treasure hunt.Tempus serpit. Tempus fujit.Time creeps. Time flies.
In the flickering candlelight, perhaps he was seeing what he wanted to see. But no. He was certain. He had found the answer to the clue, or at least where the answer to the clue lay. He couldn’t study it properly tonight, with everyone else around,but tomorrow, as soon as he could, he was returning to the music room.
*
Bea had hada revelation last night. The frieze in the music room! It had proverbs in pairs all the way around the room, each pair containing opposites. They were written in Latin, which Bea had never learned, but Papa’s previous secretary had translated them for her one afternoon.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Out of sight out of mind.
Birds of a feather flock together. Opposites attract.
The pen is mightier than the sword. Actions speak louder than words.
And on and on around the room, including the pair, Time creeps and Time flies.
This was what Mr. Redhaven’s clue was pointing to, but she couldn’t tell him, in front of everyone else. Besides, perhaps she was wrong. She had been unable to check without drawing attention to the frieze, but she was on her way there this morning, as soon as she was washed and dressed, before even breaking her fast.
She was careful not to be seen, staying away from the breakfast room where servants would be coming and going, and early risers might be making their selections. Early as she was, it was easy to glide down the secondary staircase from the family quarters and take the long way around via the great hall to reach the music room.
She let herself inside and shut the door firmly behind her, then stopped. Someone else was examining the mural below the frieze. The momentary indignation at being beaten to the answer faded as she recognized that Mr. Redhaven was before her.
He was intent on the mural and didn’t see her until she was right behind him, and she spoke. “You saw it too,” she said.
He turned with a smile. “Last night. But I could not see properly by candlelight. This must be it, don’t you think?Time creeps, here on the right, and on the left,Time flies.”
She nodded. “But does the poem refer to the paintings on the ceiling or on the wall?”
“Beneath, the last line says. And look. In the second picture, beneath the wordsTime creeps, the maiden is asleep. The son of night,the poem says. The god of sleep. In the myth of Persephone as I heard it, she is awake and picking flowers, but here she is in a darkened field fast asleep, while Hades approaches in his chariot.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “It must be, for underTime flies, it is a sunny day and Persephone is picking flowers. It is Persephone, is it not?”
“You can tell by the pomegranate, the seeds, the flowers, and the deer,” Alaric explained. “They are her symbols. See? In both panels. And see here, in the second panel, near Hades? A screech owl, the chariot, a dog, and a serpent.”
“Then is ‘Persephone’ the answer?”
Alaric wasn’t certain. “These two panels are the answer, I am sure of that. But is it Persephone, or Spring, or something else?” He turned to look at her. They had both bent in to see the symbols of Hades in the corner of the second panel, and his face was only inches from hers. His eyes dropped to her lips, and his pupils grew huge, darkening his hazel eyes.
Was he going to kiss her? Was she going to let him?
He blinked and the moment was gone. “I shall take what I have to your father and see what he says.” His voice was huskier than usual.
Bea’s breath had been stolen by might-have-beens. She swallowed hard and told him, “At this time of the morning, he will be in his study.”
He nodded and took two steps away, then turned back. “Colyn tells me today is a recovery day. Will you take a walk with me after? In the garden? I will show you my second clue, if your father gives me one.”
