Lady Bess

“Oh—well then, we’ll just have to wait and see!” was all Lady Bess could respond without appearing immodest.

He laughed and then turned to walk in search of his groom, calling out, “Patty?”

Bess chased after him and said, “But Missy—I should stay and give her a liniment rub.”

“Patty will see to it.” He turned to her and smiled. “Trust her to Patty—there isn’t a better horseman in all the county.”

The earl found his groom and after a few moments conversation turned and took Lady Bess’s hand. “Coom then, one of the boys will saddle up Applejack for ye.”

It wasn’t long afterwards that they found themselves on the road to Stonehenge, which was about an hour’s ride north of Searington. Bess was cooing to Applejack and patting her new ride on his smooth chestnut neck when the earl leaned and smiled to ask, “How do you like him? A good fit?”

“He is wonderful. Sweet-natured and so willing. Responds to the lightest touch,” she answered enthusiastically.

“Patty found him somewhere nearly starving to death. Took it upon himself to rescue him. He was no more than a colt then. We had him gelded, and he has proved faithful to his training. Always wants to please, as though he knows …” The earl shook his head. “Do I sound sentimentally foolish?”

“Foolish? My word, don’t you know what a wonderful thing you and Patty did? Noble. Simply noble.”

He laughed. “Not so. When you get to know me, lass, ye will see I do what I want, when I want, and only for m’own reasons. Always.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said with a shake of her head. “What other than pure reasons could you have had to save Applejack from starving at the hands of others?”

“Och, but, lass, I wasn’t the one who saved him,” he answered.

“Yes, you were. Patty would not have felt confident that he could bring him home if he didn’t know you would approve.” She eyed him knowingly.

The earl returned her solemn glance before he laughed and said, “Brat of a lass.”

* * *

“Close your mouth, Robby,” Donna said teasingly as she linked her arm through her husband’s and turned to smile at Bess. “He is, as you can see, quite astounded.”

“Yes, and he should be,” said a grizzled man in a wool cap coming up behind her. He nodded and added, “I’m Mr. Harlan, and if you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them for you.”

“I’d like to know about those holes.” Robby indicated the ones he meant with a movement of his chin. “My wife says that she read they were used as ritual pits?”

“Aye, she be in the right of it,” Mr. Harlan said with a tone of approval. “It is the belief of the qualified and learned that this entire place was used for rituals of some sort.”

Bess moved in closer to Dunkirk and whispered, “What does that mean, precisely? I didn’t think they ever found any bones.”

“Indeed, and yet they seem to believe that Stonehenge was perhaps some sort of memorial for the dead. Some even believe, in fact, that the Druids used these dolmens for their temple meetings. Stukeley wrote of it in his famous book and was certain that Stonehenge and the Druids were connected.”

“And what do you believe?”

He laughed and murmured low and for her ears only, “I believe that they are magical, perhaps a doorway to Faery.”

She opened her eyes wide. “No, do you really think so? Oh, how very exciting to think they might just have been that at one time.”

The earl pulled himself up and silently berated himself. He was enjoying this chit and her innocent eyes far too much. He shouldn’t dally with her so blatantly. What was wrong with him? He never overstepped with the untried maidens. Too much danger in that. Besides, when he married it would be to someone like Sally Sonhurst, who understood the rules and would go her own way. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it—to go his own way and continue to enjoy the freedoms of a bachelor?

He owed it to his name to marry and produce an heir, so he supposed marriage was something he would have to think about, but certainly not with an innocent.

The problem here was that he liked her—a great deal. Putting aside the fact that she was a beauty and that the sight of her nipples, plump and pert pushing at the material of the gowns she wore, gave him a never-ending discomfort in his breeches, indeed, putting that aside, he liked her, perhaps a touch too much. Flirting with her made him feel ridiculously free. How odd.

He did not, however, wish to hurt her, and from the way he saw her look at him, she was developing a bit of an infatuation. He shouldn’t encourage that, if he could help it. Yet he found it impossible to stop from teasing and chatting and laughing when he was with her.

They turned at that moment as Mr. Harlan was explaining that many believed the stones came from Wales. “Imagine that,” he said. “They traveled three hundred miles with these monoliths … ’tis really quite extraordinary. And some say they enjoyed pagan rituals here …” Mr. Harlan lowered his voice and then turned to Robby, who was standing beside him. “What say you, son?”

Startled, Robby shrieked, “Me?” He shook his head. “The dashed whole thing is spooky.” He turned to his wife. “Time to go for lunch.”