“Beacon Hill,” Royce replied. “It’s the tallest point for miles around. As its name suggests, in ancient times they lit fires there to rouse the countryside.”
“But what is that building?”
“Ruins of a Roman fort. It’s an interesting spot for a day’s excursion. Perhaps one day we can go there when you are more accustomed to riding. We can take a basket of food and make an all-day affair of it. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes.” Lily was starry-eyed. “It sounds terribly exciting.”
“I’m not sure how exciting it is… .”
Mary laughed. “Don’t you know that ruins are always exciting?”
“Yes, just think of the possibilities!” Lily gazed off into the distance, as if watching something none of the others could see. “The people who have lived and died there—smugglers, rebels …”
Royce chuckled. “I’m not sure we have much in the way of smuggling. Or rebellion.”
“Don’t spoil the story,” Mary told him.
“Of course. I beg your pardon.” Royce pulled a serious face.
Riding lessons took up most of their afternoons, but the next week the sisters took the opportunity of a rainy afternoon to explore the attic again. Finding three more trunks they thought belonged to Flora, they dragged them to the attic door to be carried down. They had just descended the stairs themselves when they saw Mrs. Merriwether making her way along the hallway toward them.
“I’m so glad you have finished. I did not care to disturb you, but you have a visitor. Lady Carlyle has come to call.”
“Vivian?” Mary asked, astonished. “But we just saw her in London.”
Mrs. Merriwether smiled. “Not Lady Vivian. ’Tis Lady Sabrina who has come to call. She is married to Lady Vivian’s uncle, Lord Humphrey Carlyle. They live at Halstead House, not far from here.”
“Then she is Lady Vivian’s aunt?”
“Oh, no—” Mrs. Merriwether paused, then said, “Well, yes, I suppose she is, but one does not think of her as such. Lady Sabrina is Lord Humphrey’s second wife.”
When Mary stepped into the drawing room, she saw at once why the housekeeper had trouble thinking of Lady Sabrina as Vivian’s aunt. The woman sitting on the sofa chatting with Miss Dalrymple could be no more than thirty-one or thirty-two years of age. With light blue eyes, blond hair, and a pale ivory complexion, she was also the epitome of the cool English beauty.
Though the sisters had stopped in front of the hall mirror to smooth their hair into order and brush away the dust that had settled on their clothes, Mary felt at once awkward and disheveled at the sight of Lady Sabrina’s pale perfect looks. She braced herself for the same sort of cold reception that they had received from their aunts.
However, to the girls’ surprised delight, Lady Sabrina stepped forward, smiling, and shook each girl’s hand as Miss Dalrymple introduced them. “How nice to meet all of you. I have been eager to see you, but I made myself wait a few days to allow you to settle into your new home. But it is so lonely here in the country that I simply could not hold back any longer.”#p#分页标题#e#
The girls sat down, relaxing under the sweet warmth of Lady Carlyle’s smile. Mary glanced around and noticed that Sir Royce was not in the room. Firmly she pushed away her disappointment.
“But where is Sir Royce?” Lily asked, and Mary felt a spurt of relief at finding that she was not the only who noticed his absence.
Miss Dalrymple shot Lily an admonitory look, but Lady Sabrina gave a musical laugh, saying, “I am sure that he ran off at the sight of a caller. Men are like that, aren’t they? Women’s chats bore them silly.”
Mary had trouble believing that many men chose not to visit with a woman as attractive as Lady Sabrina. Still, she could not help but feel warmed by the idea that Sir Royce was apparently not drawn to the beauty.
“Now, you must tell me all about yourselves,” Lady Sabrina went on. “Miss Dalrymple was explaining to me that you are Lady Flora’s children and you have come all the way from the United States! It sounds exciting.”
It was not hard to talk to her, and soon the girls were chattering away. Mary was glad that her sisters did not bring up the subjects of taverns, guns, or wild Indians, apparently as eager as Mary not to shock or offend their pleasant visitor.
“It’s wonderful to have neighbors again,” Lady Sabrina told them as the tea cart was trundled in and Miss Dalrymple began to pour. “It has been so boring these last years, with only bachelors at Willowmere.”