The Regency Season: Blackmailed Brides. Sarah Mallory

with this information, and the footman’s assurance that she could not miss her way, Lucy set off. The gate was in fact wide enough for a horse and she guessed the path through the trees had originally been intended as a ride. However, the undergrowth now encroached upon it and the trees grew unchecked, their branches almost meeting overhead. She was glad of her shawl for the morning shade was cool. The trees ended where the ride joined an ancient track that curved away around the belt of woodland in one direction and in the other it stretched out before her, winding down across a picturesque stone bridge and cutting through the distant moors.

      She walked on and crossed what she guessed to be Hobart’s Bridge, pausing to look over the side at the fast-flowing little stream that tumbled over its rocky bed. Lucy followed the track, striding out briskly beneath the cloudless blue vault of sky. The path ran around a natural ridge in the moor, the land falling away to gorse bushes and the stream on one side while rugged slopes covered with rough grass and heather rose up on the other.

      As the path wound onwards the views of Adversane were left behind and the dramatic landscape of hills and steep-sided valleys unfolded before her. She stopped several times, taking in the view and thinking how much her father would have loved to paint such scenery. She had captured some of it in her own sketchbook, but everywhere she looked there was another vista. So many views, she knew she would not be able to sketch them all before the house party was over and her employment at Adversane was ended.

      She rounded a bend to find the ground ahead rising steeply and suddenly there was Druids Rock soaring above her. There could be no mistaking it, for it towered over the path at this point, dark and brooding, even in the sunshine. The old track ran to the south of the rock and continued down into the wooded valley below, which she guessed was the way to Ingleston, but Lucy chose a narrow path winding up through the heather. As she drew closer to Druids Rock she could see it was not one solid piece but a jumble of huge stones, pushed together as if by some giant hand. The southern face reared up like a cliff, but the northern side swept upwards in a gentle slope, easily ascended. Lucy did not hesitate. She walked up to the top of the ramp and stood there, revelling in the feel of the fresh breeze on her skin. It was like standing on top of the world.

      Behind her, the natural rise of the moors blocked her view of the track and only the chimneys of Adversane were visible. Looking south, with the sheer drop at her feet, the valley opened up and beyond the belt of trees directly below her she could see the town of Ingleston nestling between the hills. Leading from it was the white ribbon of road that she had ridden with Ralph yesterday.

      Lucy sat down on the edge of the rock, enjoying the peace and solitude. Below her, a few wagons and horses were moving silently along the road while the surrounding land below the moors looked green and well-tended, a network of tidy walls and neat farmsteads. Most of it, she knew, belonged to Adversane. Ralph. It was a good spot from which to see the extent of his domain, but she understood why he did not come here, if his wife had fallen from this very rock. Glancing down, she remembered Ruthie’s incautious words. Helene had come here in her evening dress. Had she really been so unhappy that she—?

      No. She would not speculate. That would be a despicable thing to do. She scrambled to her feet and left her high perch. She would go back to the house and ask Mrs Dean what exactly had happened. She regained the track and set off back the way she had come. She had not gone far when she heard the thunder of hooves. Looking around, she saw the dark figure of Adversane cantering towards her. Lucy stopped and waited while he brought his horse to a plunging halt beside her.

      ‘Was it you, on top of the rock?’

      He barked out the words, a thunderous scowl blackening his countenance.

      ‘Yes.’ She fought down the urge to shrink away or apologise. ‘It was such a lovely morning I wanted to explore.’

      ‘Explore! Don’t you know how dangerous those rocks can be?’

      She replied calmly, ‘I am sure in the wet they are extremely treacherous, but the ground is dry, and my shoes are not at all slippery.’ She twitched aside her skirts to show him the sturdy half-boots she was wearing.

      He glared down at her, and Lucy waited for the furious tirade that she felt sure he wanted to utter. After a moment’s taut silence she said quietly, ‘I am very sorry if I alarmed you.’

      She thought she might have imagined his growl as her apology robbed him of the excuse to harangue her. He jumped down and by tacit consent they began to walk, with Jupiter following behind them.

      ‘I saw someone on the rocks and thought it was you. I came up to make sure you were safe.’

      ‘That was very considerate, sir, when I know you do not normally use this track. Is that because of what happened to your wife here?’

      He threw a swift, hard glance at her.

      ‘Who told you? What have you heard about that?’

      ‘My maid said Lady Adversane fell to her death from the rock.’ She added quickly, ‘Please do not blame Ruthie. If she had not told me I should have asked Mrs Dean.’

      ‘I am surprised you were not told I’d killed her.’

      Lucy stopped in her tracks. He gave a harsh laugh.

      ‘Oh, not literally. I was at the house when she fell, but it was known she was not happy.’

      ‘You mean they think she killed herself.’ Lucy’s parents had often deplored her blunt speaking and she glanced a little uncertainly at Lord Adversane, but he did not appear shocked so she continued. ‘Would she have done such a thing?’

      ‘I do not think so, but—’

      Lucy put out her hand to him. ‘If she did take her own life, you must not blame yourself, sir.’

      He was looking down at her fingers where they rested on his sleeve. Gently, she withdrew them. It had been an impulsive gesture, but he was, after all, almost a stranger. They began to walk on again and despite a little awkwardness Lucy did not want to let the moment pass.

      ‘Will you tell me?’ she asked him. ‘Will you explain what happened the night she died?’ When he did not reply immediately she added, ‘I beg your pardon. I have no right to ask—’

      ‘But you want to know, don’t you? If I will not speak of it then you will find out from someone else.’

      She could not lie.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then it is best you hear it from me. Helene walked here a great deal. Her father, Sir James, is—calls himself—a druid. Have you heard of The Ancient Order of the Druids, Miss Halbrook? Not so ancient, in fact. They were founded about five-and-twenty years ago by a man named Hurle and they are an offshoot of an older order, which Hurle considered too profane. They have their own beliefs and rituals, many based on nature and astrology. And of course they believe there is a link with the ancient standing stones.’ His lip curled. ‘There are no such stones at Adversane, but we do have Druids Rock. The name of the place goes back generations. No one seems to know why it was called thus, but certainly there have been no druidic rituals here in my lifetime, or my father’s. When Preston learned that Druids Rock was on my land he was even more eager for me to become his son-in-law. Even before the marriage had taken place he began to come to Adversane regularly to visit the rock. As did Helene during that last spring and summer when we were living at Adversane. She even went there in the dark, ostensibly to watch the sunrise.’

      ‘Ostensibly? You did not believe it?’ Lucy closed her lips. That was not the sort of thing one asked a man about his wife.

      ‘I did not question her beliefs,’ he said shortly. ‘But I did insist that she never went there unaccompanied. She agreed always to take her maid with her, and I was content with that.’ A faint, derisive smile curled his lip. ‘The locals fear the place is haunted by fairies and hobgoblins, but I never heard that they injured anyone. If she wanted to get up before dawn to go there I would not forbid it.

      ‘That is what she is thought to have been doing on