Part 15 (1/2)
”I am sure that I remember them with fully as much joy as you.”
His smile broadened. ”I cherish the knowledge that our esteem is mutual.”
Camilla rolled her eyes and pulled her hand away. ”I had thought we might go riding today,” she said. ”I could show you around Chevington Park. Would you like that?”
”Indeed I would,” he answered honestly. It would provide a perfect opportunity for him to investigate the area. He had explored the house and grounds on foot yesterday, but he wanted to move farther afield. ”I had thought to ask your cousin Anthony to take me on a tour this morning, but I understand that he left bright and early this morning and has not returned.”
”I am sure Anthony would love to ride out with you another time, especially if you have an urge to see the limestone caves along the sh.o.r.e.”
”Caves? You have some here on this estate?”
Camilla nodded. ”They are everywhere here, some big, some small. Of course, Lydia and Grandpapa absolutely forbade Anthony and me from going inside them.”
”Which no doubt guaranteed that you explored them.”
Camilla chuckled. ”Yes. Unfortunately, there is nothing very exciting in any of them. Anthony and I were always hopeful of treasure, but we never found any. He says that there are interesting formations farther back in one of them, but I have never gone that tar.”
”That sounds like a sight not to be missed.”
They finished their meal, and Benedict went up to change into riding clothes. Then they set out to explore the estate. The head groom, after a look at Benedict, put him up on a gray gelding, her grandfather's last acquisition for the stables, one that he had never had an opportunity to ride before he was laid low by his illness. Camilla almost protested, unsure how well Benedict could ride. But when she saw him mount the horse, she clamped her mouth shut on the words. He rode like one born to the saddle, controlling the animal easily with his muscled thighs and the most delicate of touches on the reins.
They rode to the cliffs at the edge of the ocean, where they reined in their horses and sat looking out.
”What is that?” Benedict asked, surprised, pointing across the water at a small hump of land rising out of the sea.
Most of the small island was covered by the ruins of an old building. Some walls still stood, as well as the remains of a turret, but much of the stone lay in tumbled heaps.
”That is Keep Island. The ruins are what is left of the original keep. It was the home of the Earls of Chevington for many, many years and quite a stronghold at one time, I believe. The water protected it, of course, and then there were stout, high walls with six towers, and inside them, the keep itself. It was abandoned long ago, though. It proved not to be very sociable or convenient in later times. They used nearly all the stones from the walls to build Chevington Park. What was left was scorched some years later by a fire-started, I understand, by my grandfather's father when he was a lad. As you see, we have always been a little p.r.o.ne to getting into trouble.”
He smiled at her sally but turned his attention back to the ruins. ”It looks very secure, but somewhat impractical. How did they get to it? I mean, it's too small for there to have been a village or for them to have raised crops or livestock.”
”Ah, that's the beauty of it,” Camilla replied, grinning. ”It is an island only when the tide is high. When the tide is low, there is a strip of land that runs from the beach across to the island. So it is really an oddly shaped peninsula. When the tide rises, the causeway is covered up.”
”How convenient.”
”Yes. You can reach it by boat at any time. Anthony and I have often rowed across. But boats were much easier to defend against. Even when the tide was low, you had only that one narrow bridge of land on which enemies could ride across. It was never taken.”
”When did they abandon it?”
”They started Chevington Park during the reign of Elizabeth and finished when James I was king. The keep's advantages were no longer very necessary, and they grew tired of the inconvenience. Besides, I imagine it would have been a damp and windy place to live. And the Chevingtons prospered greatly under the Tudors. They could afford to build a more luxurious, grander residence.”
”I would like to visit it.” It occurred to him that the ruins of the keep might be an excellent place for smugglers to store their loot. ”It looks interesting.”
”It is,” Camilla replied cheerfully. ”Sometime, when the tide is low, we can walk over. It isn't far, really, and walking is the easiest way. Would you like to see one of the caves?''
”Certainly.”
”We are rather close to one of them. Anthony would be a better guide, but I shall do my humble best.”
”I am sure that will be quite enough.”
”Flatterer.”
Camilla swung down off her horse, saying, ”We have to lead them down to the beach. The path is narrow.”
Benedict dismounted, too, and they walked down the steep trail to the beach. At the bottom they stopped, looking out across the narrow strip of sand to the pounding ocean. Camilla glanced up at her companion. He was staring moodily at the water.
”Who was she?” Camilla asked, surprising even herself with her boldness.
”Who?” Benedict looked at her blankly, for his treacherous first love had been the farthest thing from his mind at that moment.
”The girl who hurt you so. The one who has given you such a dark view of females.”
”Oh.” Benedict shrugged. ”Her name was Annabeth.” He tried to summon up her face, but he could not quite remember it clearly. Camilla's dusky curls and mischievous blue eyes kept imposing themselves over any picture of Annabeth's pale beauty.
”What happened?”
He started to dismiss her question with an icy retort; that was what he had done any other time anyone was impertinent enough to ask. He had never told anyone the full story, not even his sister or Sedgewick, though he suspected they had pieced together most of it. But, strangely, the walls did not come up inside him as they usually did, and he realized with a start that he did not mind telling Camilla.
”My uncle-the one I really do have-was an old man. He and his wife were childless, and, though she was younger than he, she was considered too old to bear a child. I was my uncle's heir. Then, amazingly, his wife became pregnant. Of course, given her age, no one expected her to give birth without complications. I met Annabeth shortly after I heard of my aunt's pregnancy, and we became engaged a few months later. Annabeth insisted that we keep it a secret. I didn't understand why, but I was too happy and foolish to care. To everyone's astonishment, my aunt carried the child to full term, and the child was born healthy. Then Annabeth told me that she could not marry me. When I pressed for a reason, she said that it was because I would no longer inherit from my uncle, since he now had a child of his own.”
Camilla drew in her breath sharply. ”She threw you over because you wouldn't get the money?”
He nodded. ”Precisely. Of course, I understood then why she had wanted to keep the engagement secret. I think she had not known when we first met that my aunt was pregnant. Then, when she found out, she had put too much time into the project to just drop me, and she was hopeful that my aunt would lose the child. So she hedged her bets. She waited to see what the outcome of the pregnancy was. If my aunt had miscarried, or the baby had been born dead, Annabeth would have made the engagement public. But when my aunt bore the heir, Annabeth was able to break the engagement with no entanglements, since no one had known about it.”
Impulsively Camilla curled her arm around his and squeezed it, leaning her head against his arm tenderly. ”I'm sorry.”
An odd quiver ran through Benedict at her affectionate gesture. He half turned, and she went naturally into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him. He held her tightly for a moment, struck by how good it felt and how little the memory of Annabeth hurt now. When she pulled back a moment later, he was reluctant to open his arms and let her go.
”I mean,” Camilla said, stepping back and looking up at him, ”that I am sorry for how bad you must have felt. But not sorry that she broke off the engagement. You know, you were lucky there. You should feel glad.”
”I should?” He raised his eyebrows.
”Why, yes. What if you had remained your uncle's heir, and she had made the engagement public? Then you would have had to marry her-and you would not have found out what she was really like until you were tied to her for life. That would be much worse than having your heart broken, don't you think? To live with a woman so cold and deceptive?”
Benedict had to chuckle. He had hated the memory of Annabeth for years, had relived their time together and cursed her for the heartbreak he had felt. But he had never, in all this time, considered the matter from this angle. Trust Camilla to turn everything on its head.
”You're right,” he told her. ”You are absolutely right. I am a lucky man.”
Camilla watched his face lighten with amus.e.m.e.nt, and she liked the way it looked. It pleased her to have made him smile. ”You should laugh more often.”
”I shall endeavor to work on it”
They rode their horses down the beach until they reached the mouth of the cave. Tying the horses to a low, weather beaten gorse bush, they ventured inside. Benedict had to duck to go through the entrance, but inside, the ceiling rose several feet above his head. Lit only by the sunlight coming through the entrance, the cave was dim, and they could not see to the back wall.
”It's too dark inside to go any farther,” Camilla commented. ”If you come back with Anthony, you will have to bring lanterns. It extends some distance.”