Lady Bess

~ Five ~

“A ZANY!” DECLARED LORD Saunders, speaking of his daughter. “You have always been a zany.” He chuckled and regarded his daughter fondly as he shook his head and made a face at her. He went on to recount a tale from her youth, saying, “She was twelve and full of herself. Had an opinion on everything.” He chuckled. “Warned her but took her horse flying against my specific instructions and landed herself hard in the bushes. Broke her arm, and what must she do but clamber right back onto that pony, declaring that she didn’t want him to think he had out-smarted her.”

Dunkirk grinned. “Now why would your pony think any such thing?”

“Oh, as to that, you don’t think I went flying off because I didn’t have an excellent seat do you?” She shook her head with a laugh. “My pony gave me a ‘dirty stop’. Took me right up to the fence as though he meant to take it and then changed his mind. I took it without him that first time—but not the second!”

“With a broken arm?”

“Indeed,” she answered and looked to her father. “I only needed one hand and my legs to lead him over that fence—is that not so, Papa?”

He nodded proudly. “And you did it in fine form, but we both paid the price when we returned to the house and your mother got a hold of us.”

Bess laughed. “Oh, but I can still see her eyes when she wagged that finger at you.” When she saw the sadness descend over her father’s face, she sighed, bent nearer to him, and touched his arm. He patted her hand and smiled up at Donna and Robby, who had just returned to the library from a short evening stroll outdoors.

Bess looked around at them and smiled. “You two look frozen—how far did you go?”

“Just down the drive and back, and, Lord, yes, the temperature has dropped. It is frigid this evening,” Robby said, rubbing his hands together near the fire.

“Brrr,” agreed Donna, who stood beside her husband and allowed him to take her hands and rub them for her. She looked up at him, and Bess noted the special look they exchanged. Pleased, she returned her attention to the earl.

He had taken a glass of port and handed it to her father, and she quietly thought, How considerate. He didn’t seem like the ‘libertine’ he was reputed to be. She had always thought a rogue and libertine was someone who was concerned only with his own needs.

Bess got to her feet, smoothed her pale green velvet gown, and went to contemplate some of the books on the shelves. She fingered them and turned to find Dunkirk close at her back.

His voice was low, and she could feel his breath in her ear; it was completely titillating as he said, “Ah, do you like that fellow, Lord Byron? Here is one of his latest.”

When he started to reach for it, she stopped him with a movement of her hand. “I admit I am a Byron addict. I have it home and have read and re-read it.” She gazed at him gratefully and felt breathless as she told him, “I can’t thank you enough for talking Papa into allowing us all to go and visit Stonehenge tomorrow. I have always wanted to visit the Sarsen Monoliths.”

Her father evidently overheard this and called out jovially, “I feel sorry for you, Dunkirk and remind you that you must consider yourself forewarned. She is a wild little bird, my girl, and you would do well to deny her this projected outing of hers tomorrow.”

“Papa!” Bess objected, hands on hips.

“I feel as though I am foisting this entire outing on you and deserting you to your fate,” Lord Saunders said with a sigh, ignoring his only child, “but I have business in town that will occupy most of my morning.”

“And me,” stuck in Robby. “Foisting it on me as well. I have no wish to go muck about some old stones.”

Lord Saunders grinned mischievously as he reached for and sipped his port, and then he chuckled with a shake of his head.

Donna stroked her husband’s hand. “Oh Robby, please, do not be such a boor. We will have such fun.”

He grumbled a bit more about the proposed expedition, and Bess laughed and turned to see that the earl

wore a half smile. It was interesting that someone of his sophistication would not mind escorting them to see something he probably had no interest in.

“Rocks and stones,” Robby said on a whine as his wife pleaded with her eyes for him to accept with good grace. “What do you want with them? We have rocks all over the countryside.”

“Not like these,” Bess said. “These rocks, Robby, these rocks are more, so much more. If you stop your grumbling, perhaps I will tell you what I know of Stonehenge. It is quite full of mystery, and many men of science have very strong theories, but one very intriguing theory is that the Fae used the monoliths as portals until they perfected another mode of transportation.” Bess knew Robby very well and over the years had seen that he had a very healthy respect for all supernatural tales.

“Eh?” His eyes opened wide. “How do you know that? Portals, eh?”

Dunkirk interrupted by laughing right out loud and then said, “Robby, the ladies are determined that we visit the monoliths. I think we should go and have a look at these mysterious rocks, eh?” He moved closer to Bess and whispered in her ear, “Ye do that very well, lass.”

His soft Scottish burr in her ear sent a shiver through her. She turned halfway to meet his gaze, and his blue eyes locked with hers. She swallowed and whispered in response, “Do …? Do what very well?”

“Intrigue, lass, intrigue and captivate,” he answered easily. He touched her arm, and once again, shivers. He turned to her father and said, “Aye then, m’lord, I mean to abduct yer daughter for a moment, as I wish to show her another, er, zany, much like herself.”

“I object!” Bess said at once. “Zany, indeed!”