by the light of the moon.’
‘You are a spoilsport, Brother.’ Caroline laughed. ‘Don’t you know that ladies like nothing better than to be terrified by tales of hauntings and ghosts?’
‘Not when one is talking of Druids Rock,’ said Adam, repressively. ‘It does have very tragic associations.’
‘Perhaps we should walk somewhere else,’ murmured Judith Cottingham, casting an anxious look up at Adam.
‘No, no, if Miss Preston would like to go there we shall do so,’ said Margaret, putting up her parasol. ‘Come along, then, no dawdling!’
Ralph held out his arm to Lucy, saying with a smile, ‘We have our orders, it would seem.’
‘Do you mind?’ she asked, taking his arm.
‘Not in the least.’
‘I think, upon reflection that I might remain here,’ said Judith Cottingham, giving the group an apologetic smile. ‘It is still very hot.’
‘It will be cooler under the trees,’ Margaret pointed out, but Judith could not be persuaded and returned to the house.
‘Well, that is very convenient,’ declared Caroline, unabashed. ‘Now we have an equal number of gentlemen and ladies!’
They all paired off, Ralph’s sisters taking their husbands’ arms while Ralph escorted Lucy and Adam looked after Charlotte Preston. The trees lining the old ride still provided some shade, and when they emerged on the far side, a gentle breeze was sufficiently cool to make walking very pleasant.
The walk downhill to the town was accomplished in good time and it was a merry party that entered Mrs Frobisher’s store, where the grocer’s wife had set aside a room with tables and chairs for weary shoppers to refresh themselves with tea or cups of hot chocolate in winter, and barley water or delicious lemonade during the hot summer months.
It did not take long to stroll up and down the High Street, the ladies looking in the shop windows and the gentlemen falling behind to talk amongst themselves, but by the time they set off again the afternoon was well advanced.
The old road twisted its way steeply upwards through the trees to emerge high above the valley, where the path levelled out and the going was much easier. Their route took them towards the afternoon sun and as they approached Druids Rock it towered over them, shadowed and menacing. The uphill walk had separated the little party. Margaret and Sir Timothy were marching well in advance, followed by Adam Cottingham, who had given his arm to Lucy, while Ralph followed a short distance behind with Charlotte Preston, and Caroline and Lord Wetherell straggled along at the rear. As Adam and Lucy made their way around the base of Druids Rock they heard Charlotte’s youthful giggle behind them, followed quickly by Ralph’s deep laugh.
Adam smothered an oath.
‘How can he be so unconcerned?’ he muttered in a strangled undervoice. ‘I cannot—’
He broke off and Lucy turned to look at him, startled.
‘Whatever is wrong, Mr Cottingham?’
‘I beg your pardon, Miss Halbrook. Perhaps I should have kept silent, but it is unbearable. It is beyond anything that he should laugh here, where Lady Adversane died. How can he act so, knowing—?’
‘Knowing what, Mr Cottingham?’
He pressed his lips together, but then, as if the words forced themselves out against his will, he hissed, ‘Knowing that he is responsible for her death!’
‘Oh, surely not!’
She glanced over her shoulder, but Ralph and Charlotte were too far behind to have overheard. Adam continued to speak in a low, angry voice.
‘He was besotted with her, but she never loved him, never! And when his demands became too much she fled here to Druids Rock to escape him.’
‘Please, Mr Cottingham, I do not think you should say anything more. Especially not to me.’
Lucy withdrew her arm and began to walk on a little faster.
‘But don’t you see?’ Adam lengthened his stride to keep pace with her. ‘You are precisely the person I should speak to. You have the look of her. I noticed it immediately. Do you not see what is happening, Miss Halbrook? He is turning you into his dead wife.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Lucy, flushed. ‘There is some slight similarity, perhaps, but—’
‘And he is making you in her image,’ he persisted. ‘You dress your hair the way she did. And your clothes—he chose them for you, did he not?’
They had dropped down to Hobart’s Bridge and were momentarily out of sight of the rest of the party. Adam grabbed her hand, forcing her to stop.
He said urgently, ‘Miss Halbrook, I believe you are in danger here. You should go. Leave Adversane, before it is too late.’
‘Too late for what? I do not understand you, Mr Cottingham.’
But at that moment Ralph and Charlotte came into view.
‘I cannot tell you here,’ he muttered.
Lucy began to walk on.
‘I do not believe there is anything to tell,’ she said robustly. ‘Mr Cottingham, you have allowed your imagination to run away with you.’
‘Perhaps you are right, madam, but I am concerned for you. I would not like you to suffer Lady Adversane’s fate.’
‘That will not happen, sir. I am aware that some people think she killed herself because she was so unhappy, but such an action would not be in my nature.’
‘Nor was it in hers!’
They were approaching the trees, where Margaret and her husband were waiting for the rest of the party to catch up. Lucy put her hand on his arm to stop him again.
‘What are you trying to say, Mr Cottingham?’ she demanded.
‘I think,’ muttered Adam with deadly emphasis, ‘that Adversane deliberately drove her to it!’
The last few yards to where Margaret and Sir Timothy waited were barely sufficient for Lucy to recover from the horror of Mr Cottingham’s words. She could not believe it. Ralph would not do such a thing. But could she be sure? Her own parents had kept from her the truth about their finances and she had never guessed. Even after her father’s death Mama had said nothing, until the truth could be concealed no longer. And if Mama could hide things from her, how much easier, then, for a man she had known barely three weeks? Lucy moved away from Adam Cottingham and fixed herself with Margaret, engaging her in conversation as they walked back through the old ride and the park.
Lucy thought perhaps it was her disordered thoughts that made the remainder of the journey uncomfortably hot, but as they made their way across the gardens to the house she noticed the heavy black cloud bubbling up on the horizon.
‘We shall have a storm soon, I think,’ opined Margaret, following her glance. ‘Good thing, too. Clear the air.’
‘Well, I for one am ready for my dinner,’ declared Lord Wetherell as they all made their way into the house. He took out his watch. ‘And, by Jove, there is barely time to bathe and change. I hope that new-fangled range of yours can cope with supplying so much hot water in one go, Adversane?’
‘Of course it can.’ Sir Timothy laughed, clapping his host on the shoulder. ‘Next thing we know he will have found a way to pump it up to the bedrooms, ain’t that so, my boy?’
‘I am working on it,’ replied Ralph, smiling a little.
The party dispersed, and Lucy felt a hand on her arm.
‘One