His sister glanced at David. “I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind, Mr. Traymore.” To her brother, she said, “If one is to believe those old tales, one might also argue that the curse has ended. After all, the spring is flowing again.”
Leah exchanged a look with David and turned back to hear more.
“The spring’s drying up was only a symptom of our blight. The curse began when the sixth marquess spurned his mistress, leaving her alone to bear his illegitimate son.” His lordship held up an index finger as he made his point. “All that has happened since then makes it clear that boy should have inherited. The line of descent went awry, and each subsequent generation has suffered the consequences.”
Leah watched the color drain from David’s face, confirming her guess that his father had been sixth marquess. She tried to divert attention away from his reaction, asking, “What does all this have to do with the spring?”
“The lad disappeared in the spring.” Lord Solebury shook his head to himself. “He vanished the very night his father intended to try to make amends. The legal heir was a wastrel, you see, so the father changed his will so every unentailed piece of property would go to his by-blow--a fellow who had distinguished himself as far more worthy. Unhappily, the gesture came too late. Before he could even tell his son about the decision, that spring out there sucked the lad away and instantly dried up. A gamekeeper witnessed the whole thing.”
Leah’s mind whirled with the dizzying revelations. David’s poor father--losing the son he had only just come to appreciate! Would David share any of the grief his father must have felt over what might have been? She watched him and saw the muscles in his temples tense as he clenched his jaw.
Lady Isabella snorted. “Jonathan, that absurd gamekeeper clearly fabricated that little fantasy. You neglected to mention that a young woman disappeared with the son. Obviously, the spring had nothing to do with their vanishing. Any fool can deduce that the two of them eloped.”
“Yes, a
romantic
fool might deduce that. Those who accept the hard evidence know otherwise. That girl’s shawl was found in the desiccated spring.”
Leah looked down at her hands. She
had
worn a shawl out to the woods, hadn’t she? How odd to hear herself discussed in the third person and be forced to hide the unbelievable truth. How eerie to find herself included in the legends of an aristocratic English family.
Her ladyship crossed her arms and turned to David. “Have you heard quite enough of our so-called family history?” As she looked into his face, she frowned. “What is it, Mr. Traymore? You don’t look at all well.”
His normally warm complexion had gone so white that his lips looked bluish. Leah shook off her own discomposure and went to his side, putting an arm around him.
“The story is familiar to you, isn’t it?” Lady Isabella asked him.
He nodded without meeting her gaze.
“Take a little at a time, David,” Leah said before their hostess could pose more questions. “You don’t have to
remember
everything at once.”
He looked up at her, his eyes murky.
She placed one finger over his mouth. “Shhh. It’s okay.”
“Do you remember us now, David?” the marquess asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Do you remember me--your father?”
Lady Isabella winced but chose to ignore him, keeping her gaze fixed on David. “
Do
you recall anything more about your origins, Mr. Traymore?”
He shook his head, his face practically green. Leah pressed a hand on his forehead, half expecting him to feel feverish. He looked so sick.
“Isabella, tell him more about the curse of the sixth marquess,” Lord Solebury urged. “The story is spurring his memory.”
Her ladyship pursed her lips. “I think he’s heard enough for one day, Jonathan. We can talk more tomorrow.” To David, she said, “I should like you to stay with us for a few days. We are likely related in some way and, until you regain your memory, you belong here.”
He stared into space but managed to recover enough to speak. “I would like to stay, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, you’ll stay,” Lord Solebury said. “Where else would you go?”
A phone rang in the hall, stopping after two rings. The next moment, a male servant entered the room carrying a cordless receiver. “Person-to-person call for Leah Cantrell from Jeanine Whitaker.”
Her shoulders slumped. Jeanine would be raging mad.
“Leah Cantrell,” Lady Isabella murmured.
Leah looked her way and her ladyship snapped to meet her gaze. The older woman’s eyes narrowed, and she watched Leah sharply as the servant handed her the phone.
“Hello.”
“Leah!” The shrill voice nearly pierced her eardrum. “Thank God you really are at Solebury House–and safe! I didn’t know if that note you sent out to the bus was for real or not. I almost got off and went to look for you, but if someone had kidnapped you or something, I was afraid they’d get me, too. What the hell are you doing? I was frantic for the whole ride back to London!”
“I’ll have to explain some other time.” Leah tried to ignore Lady Isabella’s stare; she’d find out what that was about later. David gaped at her as well, but she knew his reasons. She hadn’t yet had a chance to introduce him to the telephone. “I met some people. There’s a lot to tell.”
“You met people--in the fifteen minutes between when I left you and the time you sent the note?”
Leah looked at the others, still watching her. “Yes.”
“Who? No, never mind, I made this call on my phone card, and I’m sure it’s costing me a fortune. You can explain when you get here. Just tell me when you’re coming in. We’re leaving for Paris early tomorrow. You’d better not miss
that
bus.”
“Actually, I
will
be missing that bus.” She braced herself for another outburst. “I’m staying here in England.”
There was a second of pure silence, then earsplitting tones of disbelief. “What? By yourself?”
“With a friend.”
“Who?”
“His name is David.” She glanced at him when she said his name. He was still eying her but had composed his expression into one of mild interest.
Damned if he didn’t adapt quickly
. “Maybe when your tour gets back to London in two weeks, you can meet him before flying home.”
“
My
tour? Leah, what about
your
tour? You’re giving up Paris and Rome for some guy you met a couple hours ago? When I told you to go for other men, I didn’t mean to lose your head! Now, get on the next bus for London, so you can come to Paris with us in the morning.
Paris
, Leah, for Pete’s sake.”
Leah gave her audience a forced smile and turned her back to them. “Paris and Rome have been there a long time and aren’t likely to go away soon. I’ll see them another time.”
“But you
paid
to see them now! You’re going to throw away two weeks’ worth of travel, hotels and food?”
She stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry about that. I’m getting my money’s worth out of this trip.”
“This is insane! If you don’t agree to get on the next bus and meet me here, I’ll have no choice but to call your parents. I’m tired of trying to look after you myself.”
“Well, it’s about time you gave that up.” Now she did laugh, but not with amusement. “But I certainly don’t need you to call my parents. I’m a big girl.”
“Then act like one!” Jeanine gave an indignant
harrumph
. “I’m sorry, but I’m leaving for Paris tomorrow as planned. You can ruin your own vacation but not mine.”
“Have a great time,” Leah said, sincere if not enthusiastic. “And don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”
“All
I
know is that you better be in London tonight. I’ll see you later.” The phone clicked and the line went dead.
She grimaced. For the benefit of her audience, she said, “Okay, Jeanine, enjoy yourself. I’ll see you then. Good-bye.”
She pushed the “off” button on the receiver and looked at the others. “That was my friend, Jeanine. She’s going to Paris tomorrow.”
“But you and Mr. Traymore will be staying with us?” Lady Isabella asked, lines etched in her face. She seemed genuinely concerned.
Leah looked at David. “That’s what you want?”
“I do.”
“Very good,” her ladyship said, giving Leah no time to interject an opinion. “Why don’t you go upstairs and settle in? You’ve had a trying day.”
Leah almost whimpered with relief. She had to summon up all of her willpower to keep herself from grabbing David and running up to their room. Their tentative footing in the household required a little more politeness than that.
“Thanks very much,” she said. “Can we help you put away your family records first?”
“No . . . I still have some investigating I want to do.” Lady Isabella drew out a leatherbound book from the pile on the table. “Have you seen this volume before, Miss Cantrell?”
“No. The birth records we checked were all in large ledgers. That one’s much smaller.”
“Yes.” She stared at the cover. “This volume is among a few family archives we keep locked in a safe in the library. I daresay tonight is the first time in decades that anyone has opened that safe. The lock had to be well oiled before the combination would work.”
Leah glanced toward the stairs, then back at their hostess. “My lady, I know David appreciates all the effort you’ve made on his behalf, but please don’t feel you have to comb through every document in the house. If your records held any clues to his birth, we probably would have found them already.”
“I’m not so sure of that.” She looked up, her sharp gaze darting between the faces of her guests. “There is one thing I’d like you to tell me again before you retire: How did you say you two got drenched this afternoon?”
They looked at each other, silence hanging over the room while Leah tried to come up with a reasonable excuse for falling in the spring.
Meanwhile, David said simply, “We fell in the spring.”
Leah’s stomach flip-flopped as she waited for a new onslaught of inquiry. Instead, her ladyship nodded, showing neither surprise nor curiosity. “I thought so. Well, we shall talk more tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” they chorused. Leah let her shoulders sag. She pulled David toward the staircase, eager to escape further questioning.
He must have been overwhelmed by the evening’s events, himself. As they mounted the stairs and walked through the hall, he didn’t say a word about having to share a room with her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
David strode into the bedchamber, swatting a lock of hair away from his eyes. He waited for Leah to close the door behind them, then tugged at the riotously decorated cravat on his twenty-first-century costume. The knot only seemed to tighten. “I don’t know how I kept my countenance through that debacle.”
“You were great.” She turned the lock on the door handle, testing to see that it latched. “I almost fainted, and I’m not as involved as you are.”
“His lordship’s disclosures nearly landed me on the floor as well.” Too unnerved to worry about the dictates of propriety, he stripped off his jacket and tossed it onto a chair. “Imagine Solebury actually altering his will to favor
me
with his unentailed properties! Can the tale be credited?”
“I don’t see why not.” She crossed the room and sat down on the bed. “I’m sure the family curse is a load of bunk, but the contents of your father’s will must be documented.”
“Yes. And, if you recall, just before we left him, he said he had an important matter to discuss with me.” The memory pierced him with the first real regret he’d felt since departing from the past. That his sense of loss centered on his father startled him. He would not have accepted Solebury’s attempt at amends anyway . . . but he would have liked to receive the offer.
“He must have been talking about his will.” Leah leaned back on her elbows and kicked off her slippers. “Would the unentailed items have amounted to much?”
“Items?” He let out a short laugh. “Leah, the items consisted of
properties
--additional estates.”
Her eyes rounded into sea-green pools. “Estates? You mean something along the lines of this one?”
“Much like Solebury, though none of the others are--or were, rather--quite so extensive. Still, the current marquess said my father intended to leave them
all
to me.” He shook his head in awe. “Can his account be accurate? If so, I may well have received a larger inheritance than William.”
“Wow.” She dropped back on the mattress, covering her mouth with one hand. “And you lost all that when the spring brought you forward in time. Damn it, you lost your inheritance because of
me
! If I hadn’t come into your life and caused you so much worry, you never would have followed me here. You would have been a rich man.”
“No.” He stepped toward her, but the sight of her body sprawled on the bed halted him. The scant modern dress she wore hugged her waist and hips, ending right below the knee to reveal both her shins and ankles. He looked away, steering his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I would not have taken his money. But, I have to confess, I am overwhelmed by the enormity of the gesture.”
“Then his action does mean something to you?”
He swallowed against a tightening in his throat. “It is as though, for once, he
chose
me . . .”
“Over William? Yes, he did. Really, when you think about it, he never chose William. All he did was choose to marry William’s mother.”
“And that was more his family’s choice than his.” Surprised to hear such charitable reasoning emerge from his own mouth, he stopped speaking and turned to the window. Dusk had settled, but brilliant lamps, fueled--Leah had explained--by electricity, illuminated the park. The powerful lights set dew sparkling in the grass like glittering fairy dust. Even on a moonless night, one would be able to see every stone on the lane.
“I’m not as surprised as you,” she said from the bed. “I knew that your father loved and respected you. Despite the mistakes he made when he was young, he understood enough to recognize a worthy son . . . as well as an unworthy son. Quite frankly, I admire him for trying to keep his property away from William. What an ass.”