The Lady Unmasked Page 4

  And it probably was just Tilly’s imagination. Anna was hardly the sort to keep a secret from them. Their cousin was quite honest in all things, hardly secretive at all.

  “Why would I imagine Anna is keeping a secret from us?”

  Why indeed? Lila shrugged. “To give you something to think about. Something other than visiting the Pugmires or sitting through Papa’s sermons.”

  Tilly rolled her eyes. “It’s not my imagination. You just didn’t notice because you’re quite singularly focused on a certain lord who’s taken up residence in a certain haunted castle.”

  Lila stopped dead in her tracks. “You don’t think anyone else noticed that, do you?”

  Tilly laughed. “Papa would never notice something like that and, as I said, there was something different about Anna last night. I doubt she noticed anything at all.”

  Feeling slightly better about her sister’s response, Lila linked her arm with Tilly’s and started again towards the ruins. “Poor Tilly,” she cooed. “The only one without her head somewhere in the clouds, must be terribly lonely.”

  Her sister laughed again. “Tell me again about Lord Quentin. I want to hear every last detail before meeting your paragon.”

  Lila couldn’t help but sigh. “He’s so charming, Tilly. The self-described ‘fun one’ in comparison to Lord Bradenham,” she laughed slightly at the memory from the year before. “He’s quick-witted, honest, gregarious, and…” She lowered her voice to a whisper as they approached the ruins and she caught sight of his lordship, standing beside his friend Mr. Garrick next to a crumbled Roman wall. Just the glimpse of him made her heart pound erratically. “…by far, the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

  Tilly glanced towards the two gentlemen and her blue eyes rounded in surprise. “Truly worthy of a sonnet or two, isn’t he?”

  Lila nodded in agreement. “Or a dozen at least.”

  “Oh!” One of Lord Quentin’s pretty blonde sisters, not that Lila had any idea which sister it was, waived her hand in the air. The triplets were further away than the men, near an old fortification. “Lila, you made it.”

  At those words, his lordship looked across the row and his hazel eyes landed directly on Lila, almost robbing her of her next breath.

  Damn it all. Quent didn’t hear anything Garrick said. And he couldn’t be pressed upon to even remember what they had been discussing before Lila Southward’s sudden arrival. Something about the last race in Newmarket, perhaps. He wasn’t certain. How could he be certain of anything with her just a few feet away? She put Venus de Milo, the Mona Lisa, and every Botticelli beauty quite to shame. She could distract a saint. And though Quent was far from a saint, he had to remind himself that he hadn’t returned to Ravenglass for her; he’d returned to find his angel.

  “Ah, Miss Southward.” Garrick smiled, then stepped away from Quent towards Lila and her companion. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

  Of course, Garrick didn’t have an angel to find and he was swiftly making his way towards the two beauties across the row. Damn him. Quent quickly trailed after his friend, reaching him just as Garrick lifted Lila’s hand to his lips.

  Quent would have considered thrashing his friend right then, if Garrick hadn’t so quickly turned his attention to the other lady.

  “Mr. Garrick, my sister Matilda Southward,” Lila said softly.

  “Miss Matilda,” Garrick began. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “Miss Matilda,” Quent echoed, but then he turned his attention right back to Miss Matilda’s enchanting sister. “Miss Southward, I am so glad you were able to join us this morning.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said, her voice sounding so breathy Quent’s cock twitched.

  “Oh!” Grace started towards them. “Lila, you’ll have to come sit with us, the men are being particularly unfriendly this morning.”

  A slight look of panic registered on Lila’s face, one Quent had seen on so many different faces over the years. She very clearly had no idea which of his sisters was talking to her. So he took pity on her, quickly dipped his head closer to hers, and whispered, “Grace is in jonquil, Patience is in pink, and Hope is in green today.”

  When he returned to his full height, the grateful smile Lila Southward flashed him warmed him right to his toes. Then she glanced over at his approaching sister. “Lady Grace, surely you jest. I can’t imagine Lord Quentin ever being unfriendly.”

  Grace laughed as she reached them. “That just shows how well you must know him.” And then she reached out her hand and introduced herself to Lila’s sister, insisting the pair come at once to stroll the ruins along with Patience and Hope. “And you mustn’t stand on ceremonies with us,” she said. “Grace, Hope and Patience will suffice.”

  “I do hate to be called unfriendly,” Garrick said as his gaze swept across the forms of the Misses Southward. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Please do,” Miss Matilda demurred.

  “This way, then,” Grace nearly sang, linking her arm with Lila’s and dragging the Southward sisters right along with her.

  As they started after the trio, Quent flashed Garrick a warning glance, one that very clearly told him to keep his distance from the vicar’s daughters. Not that he had any right to do so. It shouldn’t bother him at all that Garrick found the pair enticing, but it did. It actually bothered him quite a bit.

  Garrick frowned in response. “What’s the matter with you? Think one of those girls is your angel or something?”

  That was the last thing Quent thought, but…Well, it might not be a bad idea to let his friend think otherwise, not if it kept the rake’s distance from the enchanting Miss Southward. He watched as Lila’s skirts swished back and forth as she walked across the field, and he was quite certain he could watch her skirts for the rest of the day and not tire in the least. “Well, umm, that is…Lila Southward does appear to be the correct height, if my memory is accurate.”

  “And Miss Matilda?”

  Quent had never laid eyes on Lila’s sister until now. She was probably a very nice girl, which meant she was probably not the sort who would want anything to do with Sidney Garrick. “You know their father is the local vicar? That dour, priggish vicar who wed Braden and Callie last year.”

  Garrick’s eyes rounded a bit at hearing that bit of news. “Those two lovely girls are his daughters?”

  Quent nodded. “Aye.”

  “Huh.” And then a wicked glint lit his friend’s eye. “I should think those girls should be rescued from such a dull existence, then, don’t you agree?”

  Before Quent could find his voice to respond to that, Garrick hastened his pace after Grace and the Southward sisters, leaving Quent several steps behind. Damn it all. Quent increased his own pace, though his eyes never wavered from Lila Southward’s backside.

  “Never?” Hope asked, just as soon as Quent was within earshot of the now assembled group.

  Lila shook her head. “I’ve been to the castle many times and I’ve never seen anything that seemed supernatural in nature.” She heaved a sigh. “With the exception of Callie’s disappearance last year, of course.”

  “We heard haunting laughter,” Hope said with a shiver.

  “Children’s laugher,” Grace clarified. “It was quite terrifying.”

  “And then some little ghostly child stole my ribbon last night.” Patience pouted.

  Oh, not the damned ribbon again.

  “Mrs. Small said the thing would turn up,” Quent reminded his sister. “And if it doesn’t, I’ll get you another one if you promise to stop talking about it.”

  Grace locked eyes with Lila and said conspiratorially, “See? Decidedly unfriendly this morning.”

  Unfriendly his arse. How was he expected to be friendly when his sisters had plagued him the entire night before with their bickering? And now with Sidney Garrick intent on rescuing the Southward sisters from their dull existence, which shouldn’t bother Quent in the least, even though it did. He co
uldn’t be expected to be any friendlier than he currently was. Damn it all, his stomach was twisted in a knot.

  “We haven’t yet opened the basket Cook prepared,” Quent began, “if anyone is hungry.”

  “Practically famished,” Garrick replied. “Let’s do have a bit of something before we explore further.” Then he slid between Lila and her sister and offered both of them his arms. “Shall we?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Garrick.” Matilda Southward smiled up at the reprobate.

  And then he directed the girls towards the large picnic blanket not far away. Quent had the overwhelming urge to hurl an old Roman boulder at Garrick’s head, but he resisted. Barely.

  Upon reaching the blanket, Quent gestured to the spot beside Lila and said, “Might I join you?” It was, after all, the best way to keep the girl safe from whatever Sidney Garrick’s intentions were.

  She flashed him that smile that heated his blood in an instant. “Of course, my lord. Mr. Garrick was just telling us how well you both did at Newmarket this last month.”

  How well they’d both done? Garrick had done exceedingly well on the circuit this year while Quent’s teams had not performed even close to his expectations. The jackass was trying to make him look bad, he just knew it. “How very kind of him.” Quent narrowed his eyes on his friend as he dropped onto the blanket beside Lila. “Such a wonderful friend Mr. Garrick is.”

  “I am one of the best you could have,” Garrick agreed. The jackass. Then he turned his attention fully to Lila’s sister and said, “Miss Matilda, would you care to show me about the ruins? I would very much enjoy learning about the ancient Romans.”

  The girl smiled at Garrick and was on her feet without a word. He followed her lead instantly and quickly offered his arm out to her. Quent breathed a small sigh of relief. At least his friend hadn’t locked his sights on Lila, though he probably should be worried about Miss Matil—

  Why the devil were his sisters, all three of them, looking at him like that? Right across the blanket from Quent and Lila, the triplets were each eyeing him as though he was some foreign specimen they’d never seen before. “What’s wrong with you?” He frowned at the trio.

  “Nothing,” Hope said cheerfully. “Just watching you.”

  He could see that. It was unnerving. “Well, stop.”

  Grace rolled her eyes as she pushed off the blanket back to her feet. “Decidedly unfriendly,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Come on,” Patience began. “I’m not very hungry anyway, and we can explore a bit more.”

  Quent wasn’t very hungry either, but if everyone was going to explore the ruins and not sit across from him and Lila, he wasn’t going to stop them. And he certainly wasn’t going to join them.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with them all of a sudden.”

  “They seem to adore you.”

  “They seem to have lost their minds. Last night there was nearly a cat fight over a ribbon.” He cast her a sidelong glance. “I don’t imagine you and Miss Matilda scream and rant over ribbons, do you?”

  The prettiest smile stretched across her lips. “We barely whisper at home for fear of angering Papa.”

  Was she serious? The vicar really was the worst sort of prig. “He won’t let you speak at normal levels?” What the devil was wrong with the man? As much as he hated to admit that Garrick was right, someone did need to rescue the Southward girls. If only…

  “He needs it to be quiet so he can work on his sermon.” She shrugged slightly. “When there are many words, transgression is unavoidable. But he who restrains his lips is wise.”

  He blinked at her. “I beg your pardon.”

  “It’s from Proverbs. It’s one of Papa’s favorites.”

  Quent couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in a church. He certainly didn’t have biblical verses committed to memory. Still…“I may have to learn that one for the next time there’s a cat fight over hair ribbons.”

  When she laughed, his heart expanded and Quent wished that he could be the one to rescue her.

  “Oh!” Patience called. “I think I found something.”

  Quent’s attention shot to his sister who was quite a distance away, near an old wall that had probably once been a bathhouse. “What did you find?” he called back, pushing up to his feet, then helping Miss Southward find hers.

  Damn it all, just a touch of her hand sent lust shooting through him. She met his eyes, staring up at him with such innocence, such beauty. Honest to God, if he wasn’t searching for his angel…

  “I think it’s a coin, Quent.” Patience rushed toward him with Grace and Hope trailing after her. A beautiful smile lit up his sister’s face as she rubbed something between her fingers. “An ancient Roman coin!”

  “Huh.” Garrick came up behind the triplets with Miss Matilda in tow. “Well, we are in the right place for it.”

  “Let’s see,” Quent reached his hand out to his sister, and she dropped the relic into his palm. It certainly was an ancient coin, a silver one at that, he would wager from the feel of it. The edges weren’t perfectly rounded and it was rather dirty from wherever Patience had dug it up.

  Quent pulled out his handkerchief and smoothed as much of the dirt from the coin as he could. It was definitely silver, with a tiny bit of crystallization.

  “It looks like,” he began, peering closer at the coin and rubbing it with one of his fingers, “a woman.” Then he nodded, certain he was correct. “Yes, yes. In fact, she has wavy hair that is knotted in a queue and trails down the side of her neck.” He squinted at the coin to make out the letters around the edge. “Sabina Augusta Hadriani AVG, P.P.” He flipped the coin over and squinted at it once more. “And here she is sitting down and holding a scepter.”

  “Sabina Augusta Hadriani?” Patience echoed.

  “Exactly.” Quent grinned at his sister. “Do you know what you’ve found?”

  “A coin that says Sabina Augusta Hadriani,” Grace answered cheekily.

  She had such a sharp tongue. God help the fellow whoever married her someday. “Mmm.” Quent nodded, narrowing his eyes on that particular sister. “And do you know what that means, Grace?”

  She tilted her head to the side, grinned, and said, “That her name was Sabina Augusta Hadriani?”

  “Well, yes,” he begrudgingly replied. “Sort of. Vibia Sabina was the wife of the Emperor Hadrian, you might have heard of him.”

  “May I see it?” Garrick asked.

  Quent shot Patience a look, since it was her coin; and at her nod, he handed the artifact to Sidney Garrick to inspect.

  Garrick squinted at the coin and turned it over in his hand a couple of times. Then he shook his head. “You must have the eyes of a cat. I can barely make out any of the letters,” he said.

  “Well, you haven’t spent as much time looking at these things as I have.”

  “Apparently,” his friend handed the coin back to Quent. “Still—” he smiled in Patience’s direction “—it is a very lovely find to have made, my lady. You are quite fortunate.”

  “The Romans were here until the end of the 4th Century,” Lila Southward said, drawing Quent’s attention from the artifact back to the pretty brunette once more.

  “In which case, finding a coin from Hadrian’s rule is even more remarkable.”

  “You didn’t strike me as an ancient Roman scholar, my lord,” she said, her silvery eyes focused solely on him in surprise.

  He had certainly done his fair share of studying the subject, having always found ancient Rome vastly fascinating. “No?” he asked, wondering what she did think of him. “What did I strike you as?”

  Her smile lit up her face. “The fun one, or so you told me when we first met.”

  Quent couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, in comparison to Braden, I am the fun one. Hardly a contest, my dear.”

  “So the 4th Century, you say?” Garrick glanced over at one of the still standing walls and asked, “When did the Romans arrive here, I wonder?
”

  “Early in the 2nd Century,” Miss Matilda answered.

  “Ravenglass was a thriving Roman port and these ruins here are what is left of the fort and bathhouse.” Lila agreed with a nod of her head.

  “There was an entire settlement here,” her sister added. “Glannoventa, it was called. And the fort housed a garrison of five hundred soldiers.”

  “Not that it was always peaceful,” Lila said. “Even with that many soldiers in residence.”

  “Conquering Romans were rarely the peaceful sort,” Quent returned.

  “Indeed.” The pretty brunette smiled in agreement. “The first years were fraught with Celtic resistance and Roman force. There’s a tale—” she frowned a bit as though trying to remember the story properly “—about a local chieftain. A brave and strong Celt.”

  “Cynbel,” Miss Matilda added. “Nobel and true, they said. He was as large as a mountain with arms the width of tree trunks.”

  “That sounds a bit embellished,” Garrick muttered, though he looked thoroughly charmed by the girl.

  “Cynbel was respected and admired by his people. They would have done anything for him,” Lila said.

  “He resisted the Romans,” Miss Matilda continued. “He and his people.” Then she winced like she didn’t want to tell the rest.

  “Well…?” Grace asked. “What happened?”

  Quent had a fairly good idea. If you surrendered to Rome, you were enslaved. If you defied Rome, you were slaughtered. And it didn’t sound as though Cynbel was the surrendering sort, not with tree trunks for arms. “Well, the Romans were here for hundreds of years, so I think we can safely assume that Cynbel’s rebellion did not turn out well for the Celts and leave it at that.”

  Miss Matilda agreed with a quick nod. “That does sound best.”

  Grace heaved an irritated sigh and Quent shot her a look.

  “I’m fairly certain you don’t want to know what happened to the man,” he told his most stubborn sister.

  “Or his family,” Miss Matilda added.

  “His family?” Patience gasped. “The Romans harmed his family?”