Page 32 of Sleepless in Saunton
The earl nodded. “Then I would appreciate you accompanying my boy to the grotto. Jane, would you like to join them? Tsar outdid himself when he designed it, and it is especially lovely in the summer.”
Jane could not help herself—she beamed. “I would be delighted to escort Ethan there.”And his uncle!
Barclay approached to take a seat while Tatiana and Ethan chattered at the chessboard.
“Please, Jane. Take your time.” He waved to the cup in her hand, his eyes warm as he studied her closely, and Jane smiled shyly in return as the earl excused himself. Spending time with Barclay was precisely what she wanted to do today. Had he reached a decision regarding a prospective courtship? He seemed more than amenable to her joining him.
She hurried with her coffee, loath to have any of the other guests happen upon them lest they be invited to accompany their party to the grotto. Clinking her cup down on the tray, she rose. “Shall we?”
She grabbed Ethan’s hand, determined to leave on their unexpected outing. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Barclay followed with Tatiana, and she could not deny her excitement to spend some time alone with people she liked so much.
Ethan chattered at her side, but Jane did not relax until they had exited the manor and were walking down a garden path that led to the woods.
“Jane, I cannot keep up with you!” Ethan complained. Jane realized her long, unladylike stride had been forcing him to trot beside her, and now he panted, his little face red from his exertions. “You are awfully eager to see thegra-ta!”
She paused, Barclay and Tatiana stopping along with them. Looking about, Jane realized she had succeeded in drawing them away from the house party. There should be no danger of Mr. Dunsford or Mrs. Gordon intruding on their privacy.
“Perhaps Jane is eager to spend time with you,” suggested Barclay, his eyes twinkling with humor as he regarded her. Jane bit her lip, blushing as she accepted that the architect was not fooled. He must have noted her efforts to avoid the other guests. Then she cheered up when she worked out that he must have had similar notions if he knew what she was up to.
“Have you been to the grotto, Jane?” Tatiana’s eyes sparkled, her enthusiasm reflected there while she took in the tall trees that they approached. Jane realized the child’s silver-blonde hair was bare, lifting her own hand to confirm that she had left the manor without a bonnet in her zeal to spend time with Barclay. The gentleman repressed a smile at the gesture, himself bareheaded under the afternoon sun.
“I have not.”
“Do you know anything about the grotto? About what is there?” Barclay asked, appearing so light-hearted—not at all the mourning widower who had arrived just days ago.
Jane shook her head. “It is the company that has me engrossed,” she admitted in a low voice.
He flicked a smile in her direction. “It is a rather unusual folly. From all accounts, Tsar did magnificent work, and I am intrigued to see it for the first time.”
“What is it, exactly?”
He shrugged, those wide shoulders drawing her gaze as she recollected the feel of his broad chest pressed against her breasts.
Remember to breathe, Jane!
“You will all have to see it for yourselves. I shall not ruin the surprise.”
* * *
Barclay was pleasedwith the current turn of events. He had desired time with Jane far from curious eyes, and here he was entering the woods with only Tatiana and his nephew to witness their interlude. Lifting Ethan onto his shoulders after the boy had complained about Jane’s energetic strides to leave the manor behind, he had been well aware of what enticed her. He shared her enthusiasm to spend time together and anticipated the delight of both Jane and the children when they reached the grotto.
Herding their little party along a path winding through the trees, Barclay led the way. Fortunately, the path was well-maintained, so there was no danger of Ethan colliding with any branches despite his exaggerated height perched on Barclay’s shoulders.
The sound of birdcalls and a breeze rustling through the leaves above them were restful, and Barclay felt at peace. Reaching a fork in the path, he walked to the left. The woods were cooler, shading them from the midday sun, which was a relief considering both Jane’s and Tatiana’s faces had been bared to its relentless rays.
Soon they came upon the pond, Ethan gasping in delight as he looked across the water at the statue of Persephone gazing back at them from the entrance of a grand grotto. Traversing the perimeter of the green water, Barclay was careful to steer Tatiana away from the edge of the water, where the sides of the pond were covered in slippery green slime. They approached the statue, and he became transfixed by this unusual representation of the goddess of spring.
Her perfect features were turned longingly toward the entrance of the first cave. Rather than the customary depiction of her with a sheaf of grain, or as a mythical deity with a scepter and box, this version was scantily robed in draped fabric so thin it might have been made of gossamer. She stood on a bed of flowers to commemorate the spring she brought each year when she was reunited with Demeter, the tilt of her head evoking the sentiment of her joy to meet with her mother once more.
Jane stood at the base, her jaw agape, as Tatiana reached out her hand to brush it across the smooth marble. “It is beautiful,” she whispered in reverence.
Indeed, Tsar had outdone himself. The roof of the grotto, entirely manmade, reached out over the water, adding to the magic of the quiet space, the goddess forever reaching to return above world. In the cavern, the sounds of the woods were muted and the sound of tinkling water could be heard. The water was piped to flow as a stream from the bed of flowers at the statue’s feet to rejoin the pond. A water feature for which his grandfather was very proud, evoking the melting of the winter snow and the return of growth and renewal when Persephone rejoined her mother on the surface.
“Grandpapa designed this?”
He smiled at his daughter, wondering if the architectural blood that ran through their veins had just awakened in her. Perhaps she might be a great artist one day. Or work with the elder Thompsons in their business. Instinctively, he knew such a path would not offend Jane if she were to join their family.
“There is more,” announced Barclay as he lowered Ethan to the ground. The roof dipped down, so it was no longer safe for the boy to ride so high. He led them to the back. Behind a wall extending halfway across the back, he found the hidden entrance to the second cave. They followed him, gazing about at the convincing shape of the cave and brushing their hands over the frieze depicting the underworld.
