Page 41 of The Trials of Alaric
Bea nodded. “Perhaps we can finally get the older children into school. Now, who might be able to take the little ones during the day?”
They talked for several more minutes, pulling Christina into the conversation. The three of them were accustomed to cooperating on matters concerning the welfare of the families in the care of their fathers.
Bea was called away by her mother to pour the tea, but the day—and the problems of the Gorry family—were a good reminder of the true reason for this house party. The people of Claddach depended on the castle in so many ways, and her choice of husband would directly affect their wellbeing.
This evening, the suitors had been given the task of entertaining the ladies. Lord Luke Versey and Mr. Meadowsweet went first. Mr. Meadowsweet played a guitar while Luke sang several plaintive ballads in a pleasing tenor. Sir Henry Dashwood’s contribution to the evening was to declaim a rather long poem in which horses featured prominently.
Mr. Howard gave them a juggling act, first with five and then six balls, and then with four objects offered by his audience—a snuff box, a hip flask (empty), a quizzing glass, and a fan. Mr. Howard had hidden depths!
Beverley read a passage from Mr. Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” He was followed by Mr. Fairweather, who took his place at the piano, and gave them two lovely Bach sonatas.
Finally, it was Alaric’s turn. It suddenly occurred to Bea that he would not have had time to prepare anything. What was he going to do?
“My ladies, my lords, gentlemen,” Alaric said, bowing to the company. “I have been awed by the display of talent this evening. I face you with some trepidation in light of your many accomplishments, but dare to offer you that most humble, yet ubiquitous of fireside offerings, a story.”
With that, he launched into the story of the White Hart, the story of a white deer that appeared at the wedding of Arthur and Guinevere, and of the knights who followed it, and what happened to them.
He bowed to the enthusiastic applause his narrative deserved, and Mama declared that fresh tea had arrived, while Papa asked who would prefer a port or a brandy. “Oh, by the way,” he said. “Tomorrow, gentlemen, you will be helping to move the castle’s bulls.”
There was a stir among the gentlemen, a couple of them exclaiming in alarm and others smiling.
Mama poured the tea this time, and Bea carried around the cups, and at last was able to greet Alaric for the first time since the morning. “Were we right?” she asked. “Was it Narcissus?”
“It was. And I’ve solved the next one, too. I have made you a copy.” He handed her the piece of paper, folded small enough to pass to her unseen. “Miss Radcliffe can tell you the answer.She told me where the tapestry was, and I went to see it before dinner.” He bent slightly closer. “I’ve told your Papa and he is going to give me the next clue at the end of this evening,” he murmured.
At that point, Mama called Bea away, and she did not have another opportunity to speak with Alaric that evening.
Bea was pleased he had solved another clue. She really was. She wasn’t at all disappointed he had done it without her. If he had asked Reina for her advice while they were off visiting the tenants, he had every right to do so. It would be petty of her to feel otherwise.
And there she was, arguing to convince herself, and not succeeding. She went up to bed at evening’s end with a persistent sense of dissatisfaction she did not want and did not feel entitled to. She was disappointed in herself.
But the feeling lifted when her maid Eunys handed her a sealed note. “I don’t know if I should give ye this, my lady. A note from that there Mr. Redhaven. Colyn Mugtin guv it me. Lady Claddach’ll have my head if’n she hears.”
“She will not hear it from me, Eunys. It is nothing to worry Mama. Just a poem that Mr. Redhaven promised to copy out for me.”
And that was true, she discovered, for when she opened the note, it was a copy of yet another verse.
“She keeps the hearth, defends the home.
“He far across the seas does roam.
“Which is her lord? The bow’s the test—
“Revealed, triumphant, still the best.”
He must have hurried straight up to his bed chamber when Papa gave it to him and written out the copy. It didn’t make sense to her. Not yet, at least. And neither did the third clue—the one he had passed to her in the drawing room.
She looked forward to discussing them both with him tomorrow.
*
Alaric hoped theydidn’t make too early a start on this bull herding business. If he could, he’d like to spend some time with Bea—perhaps make up a group to go for a walk in the garden, thereby circumventing Lord Claddach’s edict that Bea eased up on the time she was spending with him.
He was disappointed to find she had already ridden out with Miss Radcliffe. “They are visiting Mrs. Gorry,” Miss Bryant explained.Well.Alaric could be glad of that, anyway. He decided to spend a bit of time walking around the castle, examining paintings and tapestries in the hopes that something made sense of the latest verse.
However, he had not gone far when a footman stopped him with a message. Lord Claddach wished to see him immediately, in his study. He hurried downstairs, wondering what his lordship wanted. Something to do with Gorry, perhaps?
When he stepped inside, he first noticed Lord Claddach’s severe expression, and then the earl’s visitor. The man stood at the window, his back to the room, but Alaric knew him anyway. He stepped forward with a smile and a glad greeting. “Tarquin!”
