The Trials of Alaric (Twist Upon a Regency Tale #8)

Chapter Nine

W hen Alaric entered the earl’s study, the man was, as his daughter had suggested, already at work behind his desk, a steaming cup of coffee at his elbow.

“You asked to see me, Redhaven,” the earl acknowledged.

“Yes, my lord. I believe I have solved the first clue in the treasure hunt.”

The earl’s eyebrows twitched upwards in an expression of surprise. “Indeed? You are the first, then. One moment, young man.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a folded piece of card, from which he extracted a sheet of paper. “Ah yes. ‘Watch time crawl by with leaden feet.’ Very well, Redhaven. What have you discovered?”

“Two panels in the music room, sir, with the words Tempus fugit and Tempus serpit in a frieze above them. I believe the first shows the reign of the son of night, who is the god of sleep in Greek and Roman mythology. The second shows Persephone as the goddess of Spring, so I suppose that the answer to the clue is either Persephone or Spring.”

“Hmm,” said the earl, which was not helpful. “You will, I hope, work out the significance of that panel, or those panels, as you solve further clues. However, you have identified the panels, and that is enough to win you the next little rhyme. Let me see…” He dug around in the folder for a minute, and then brought out another sheet of paper, very similar to the first.

“This one, I think, is for you.”

Alaric accepted it, glanced at it, folded it again, and put it into his pocket to think about later. Another piece of verse.

“Thank you, sir. I won’t take up more of your time.”

“I will, however, command a few moments more of yours,” the earl replied. “Did my daughter give you the answer?”

“No, my lord,” Alaric answered, pleased he could say so. However, in all honesty, he had to add, “I think she would have done so, though, if I had not thought of it. She came down to the music room this morning to check what she thought she saw last night and found me already doing the same thing.”

That seemed to amuse the earl. “Ah. So that was the way of it? You have consulted her, then?”

“I have, my lord. I initially thought of timepieces like clocks and sundials, and I asked her where to find them, then showed her my clue. We plan to meet later so I can show her this one. Is that against the rules? If so, I apologize.”

The earl waved off his apology. “Not at all. I find it interesting, but it is not forbidden, and I am not offended.” He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his chin as he fixed Alaric with a stern look that somehow reminded Alaric of Lady Beatrice’s expression when she was puzzling out the frieze. “Mr. Redhaven, will you tell me the full story of why you were asked to leave Brazil?”

Alaric thought about that. “Perhaps, sir. If I am successful in the trials and you and Lady Beatrice are amenable to my suit, then you will have a right to know. At the moment, though, it does not feel right.”

Lord Claddach nodded. “I accept that. Well done on the clue, young man. I wish you well with the second. Good day to you.”

That was a dismissal, if ever Alaric had heard one. He left the earl’s office and went into breakfast.

*

Mr. Redhaven arrived in the breakfast room looking pleased. His interview with Papa must have been successful, then. Bea itched to hear what had happened but was not going to ask in front of the servants and the other guests. Only Lord Lucas and Lady Eleanor were up, and when she and Mr. Redhaven spoke about their planned walk, they announced their intention of coming along.

“If you do not mind, Bea,” Ellie said. The young ladies had all moved to first-name terms during their travels yesterday.

“It solves the problem of a chaperone,” Bea pointed out. “The older ladies are all still asleep, and I don’t wish to wait.” And she did not wish one of the older ladies hanging on every word that she and Mr. Redhaven exchanged. Whereas, unless she missed her guess, Lord Lucas and Ellie would be absorbed in one another, giving her and her escort all the privacy one could decently require.

It turned out just as she expected. They took the path down to the beach again, and the other couple lingered behind, clearly seeking their own privacy. “You seem to be none the worse for yesterday’s exertions,” Bea commented to Mr. Redhaven, as they scrambled down the steeper sections of the path. In truth, he was still being careful with some movements, but he no longer looked as if he was bruised in every bone and about to pass out.

“Colyn’s uncle has a liniment that is good for muscle strain,” he replied. “I can now swear by it, having put it on before I went to sleep yesterday. I might have applied more this morning, but it is rather pungent, and I would not wish to offend the company.”

She managed a shallow curtsey on the awkward terrain. “The company thanks you, Mr. Redhaven.”

“Could you be persuaded to call me Alaric?” he asked. “Just when we are alone. We are becoming friends, are we not?”

Friends, and perhaps something more. The trials—and the choice at the end of them—loomed large in her mind. Perhaps a great deal more. “Very well, Alaric. And I am Bea.”

“A charming little name,” he commented. “Very useful things, bees.” He gave her a sideways smile that she found rather charming. She smiled at him in return.

“I hope I am useful,” she retorted. “How did you get on with my father, Alaric?”

“I have the second clue. He said the panels were collectively the correct answer, but that the meaning of the answer will become clear with later answers. Or, at least, that was the substance of it.”

“So, the solution to the treasure hunt is the sum of the clues,” Bea guessed. “How devious!”

“Clever, in any case. He wants to be sure your suitors are worthy of you, Bea. I cannot fault him for that.” He took a piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to her. “Let’s read it together,” he invited.

She looked around to see if anyone else was close enough to interrupt them, but even Lord Lucas and Ellie were out of sight. Then she held one side of the paper and Alaric held the other.

“Roses ’neath moon’s silver light

Golden stars behold the sight

The flower climbs the mansion wall

For fleeting joy before the fall.”

Bea could not make head nor tail of it. “Something in the garden? At night? We do not have climbing roses against the castle. I do not understand, Alaric.”

“Me neither,” Alaric admitted. “I am prepared to guess the simple answer will not be the right one. Look how long I hunted for clocks and sun dials, and all the time, I should have been looking for the words.”

“But which words?” Bea wondered.

Alaric studied the paper again. “It isn’t necessarily the same type of riddle, but I must confess, at the moment I am stumped. It could be at night, as you suggest, and in the garden. It could as easily be another ceiling or perhaps a tapestry somewhere.”

“Yes, or a painting. Here. You had better put it away. I see the others coming.”

Ellie and Lord Lucas had been out of sight together for some time. Talking? Or something else?

Ellie was looking flushed, and her lips were redder than usual. She and Lord Lucas kept exchanging smiles and then looking quickly away.

Bea might have her suspicions, but their behavior was none of her business. Except that Lord Lucas had entered the trials. She hoped he was not kissing one girl while intending to marry another, if he won.

“Shall we walk to the end of the beach and then back again?” Alaric asked, and everyone agreed. Bea’s concerns lessened as they walked, Bea with Alaric and Lord Lucas with Ellie.

“It must have been fun growing up with a beach on your doorstep,” Alaric said.

Bea agreed. “My governess and I had many a fine walk on the beach, and when I was older, I used to help the stable hands exercise the horses here. There is a ride down the hill on the side away from the sea, and a path that leads to the beach.”

“Do you spend most of your time here at the castle?” Ellie asked. “Or do you go to London with your parents?”

“I have never left Claddach,” Bea told them. “Mama wanted me to make my come out, but I was determined not to do so, and Papa supported me.”

Ellie stopped in her tracks. “You did not make your come out?”

Bea chuckled. “I did not. My cousins consider me very odd.”

“What made you so determined?” Lord Lucas asked. “I thought all girls dreamed of gowns and balls and the like.”

Ellie poked him in the side. “All girls are not the same, Luke.”

Lord Lucas yelped. “Ouch! Note to self. Turns to violence when annoyed.”

Ellie tossed her head. “When provoked,” she corrected, laughing, and he laughed back. “There is not a girl in the world like you, Ellie.” If Lord Lucas was serious about winning Bea, he would surely not be flirting with Ellie right under her nose. And they were calling each other by their first names. Not even that. Their nicknames.

“Did you dream of gowns and balls?” Ellie asked Bea.

Bea thought about that. “Not really,” she decided. “I have some of that with public assemblies in the town and when the local gentry invite us for dinner or a ball. I enjoy dressing in lovely gowns, and I love dancing. But it isn’t real, is it?”

Ellie frowned in puzzlement. “It isn’t?”

“I think I know what you mean,” Alaric said. “It is like sugared violets on a cake. They’re fun to have, but you can do without them, and still enjoy the cake. You would not like an endless diet of sugared violets, though.”

Bea nodded. She hadn’t known how to explain it, but Alaric’s example made sense to her.

“The life of a diplomat is almost all sugared violets, is it not?” Lord Lucas asked Alaric.

“A thick layer of them,” Alaric groaned, “and what’s underneath is not cake, but stale bread.”

That made them all laugh. Perhaps the metaphor was being stretched, but the comment certainly disclosed Alaric’s feelings about his former career.

“I see,” Ellie mused. “So, what do you regard as ‘real,’ Bea?”

Bea didn’t hesitate. “The Isle of Claddach and its people. I am to be the Lady of Claddach. I need to know my land and my people. What of you?”

“My family. Had I found a match in my one Season, it would have helped my sisters. Perhaps even my brothers, if I had married a man with influence or wealth.” She shrugged. “As it is, I helped my sisters by staying at home and letting them have their chance. Papa has six girls to settle, without impoverishing the family. It was best to stay home.” She colored slightly.

“But when Lady Claddach invited my father to send one of his daughters to this house party, we had a family meeting, and father and my brothers and sisters decided I was to come.” She glanced at Luke again and away. Bea understood what she had not said. Ellie’s family had assumed a house party might give her the opportunity to find a match without the expense of a Season or weeks of balls requiring many changes of clothing. How good it would be if whatever was developing between Luke and Ellie was, in Ellie’s words, real.

In fact, the sugared violet analogy worked very well. “I know what you mean, Ellie. I help teach at the dame school in the village. That is real. And I visit sick tenants and new mothers with Mama.” Or, these days, without Mama. “That is real, too, in a way that dances and gowns are not. But I think a sugared violet now and again is very pleasant.”

“What of you, Lord Lucas?” Bea asked.

“Luke, please, my lady,” he begged. “I hate all this milording. It is not, as you put it, real. What have I done to deserve being called a lord? I was born third son to a duke, that’s all. It is a courtesy, particularly since Thorn, my brother, has three sons. And if you want to know what I think, the courtesy’s target is my father, rather than myself.”

He chuckled. “That was a little impassioned. Luke, if you would, Lady Beatrice.”

“I am Bea, and this is Alaric,” Bea told him.

“Not Al?” asked Luke.

“Definitely not Al,” said Alaric, firmly, and Luke laughed again.

Bea was not going to let him away without answering the question. “Your ‘real’?” she asked.

Luke turned serious then. “I’m still working on it,” he said. “Being a gentleman is mostly candied violets. I am tired of it. I thought perhaps Claddach? But…” He paused, his eyes holding Ellie’s. “My ideas have changed. There are not many jobs for gentlemen. I would make a terrible vicar. I do not know enough to be a land steward and I am not particularly interested. So, what is my ‘real’?”

He put out his hand toward Ellie, and she put her hand in his. “A wife. A family. And that means some way of making income. Ellie thinks I could be a politician. A lot of candied violets in that profession. But it is cake underneath, Alaric, to use your image. A member of Parliament can make a difference, I believe. We will think of something, won’t we, Ellie?”

“My dowry will help,” Ellie declared. “It is not huge. My father has ten children and needs to set three sons up in professions that will support them, without impoverishing the estates my eldest brother will inherit, so we girls have only modest dowries. But it will help.”

“In fact,” Luke said, “between my allowance from my father and Ellie’s dowry, I probably don’t need to work. We could live in genteel poverty. But…” He smiled and shrugged. “Candied violets. I need something to do that will feed my soul. Gad, that sounds so pretentious.”

Lord Lucas, Bea realized, was much more than the polished society gentleman than showed on the surface, and he was also embarrassed about showing his hidden depths. He turned the attention from himself now by saying, “Your turn, Al. What is your real, so to speak?”

Alaric was looking at the ocean, watching the waves. At the question, he turned his attention to Bea. “The land, I believe. When I was a boy, I was the one that trotted around after my father and his land steward, not my twin—who is the older and the heir. After university, I helped the steward, who was getting old and could no longer do all he used to. I thought that would be my life. I would stay on and take his place when he retired. I was happy.” He bent to pick up a pebble and tossed it to be swallowed up by a wave.

“So, what happened?” Luke asked.

“There was a girl,” Alaric said. He threw another pebble. He was avoiding their faces, Bea thought. “I was courting her. I brought her and her older brother on a visit to meet my father, and my brother.”

Another pebble soared over the waves and disappeared. “She married my older brother. The heir. My father decided I should leave. The envoy to Brazil is an old schoolmate of his, and my uncle is on the diplomatic mission, so…” A fourth pebble went the way of the rest. He turned to look at her, brushing sand from his palms by rubbing them together.

“Anyway, that is my story. If I win the trials and Bea will have me,” he sent her a lop-sided smile, “I shall gladly serve her and Claddach for the rest of my days. If not? I will look for a place somewhere as a land steward. The land is my real. I am tired of candied violets.”

Did he still love that girl , Bea wondered? For that matter, was his story true? He certainly seemed honest and sincere. But Aunt Joan had warned her that Society gentlemen were clever at dissembling. That was one reason Bea had never made her come out. Bea knew where she was with the men of Claddach. She’d known them all her life, for one thing. For another, most of them were simple folk who said what they meant and meant what they said. But how well did she know Alaric? Did he mean what he said, or was there more to his story than he’d allowed her to learn? And if so, when did he intend to tell her?