Anne Barbour (10 page)

She pondered on the inconceivable horrors that David must have undergone. Not just David, of course. How many young men on both sides of the conflict had returned to home and family, wounded beyond repair in body and spirit?

When she descended to the breakfast room in the morning, to her surprise, she found David breakfasting in solitary state, perusing a copy of the
Times.

“Good morning,” she said, gesturing for him to remain seated. “I thought you would be in conference with Mr. Pettigrew.”

“I have an appointment with him in a couple of hours.” He laughed rather self-consciously. “I have been sitting here in some bemusement, I must admit. I still cannot take in all that has occurred.” He hesitated for an instant. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Kate busied herself at the coffee cups on the sideboard.

“Um, why yes, of course, thank you. And you?”

Shooting a surreptitious glance at him, it seemed to Kate that a look of relief flashed in his eyes before he spoke.

“Of course. By the by,” he continued, “you’re looking particularly fetching this morning in that, what is it—some sort of cotton?”

“It’s India muslin,” she smiled. “And in the latest mode, I’ll have you know. This ruffled hemline—” she pirouetted so that her skirt swirled becomingly—”with the open embroidery work appeared in
La Belle Assemblee
only last month.”

“Behold me chastened. I shall freely confess to an abysmal ignorance of anything concerning the world of fashion.”

Kate laughed. “Perhaps Lawrence can be prevailed upon to give you the benefit of his expertise.”

“Perhaps—if he can be prevailed upon to speak to me ever again.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will come out of his sulks eventually. This has been a hard pill for him to swallow.” Her face lightened. “As soon as I’ve finished here, I’m going out to the villa. If you have time before Mr. Smollett arrives, would you like ...” She stopped in embarrassed confusion. “That is, perhaps you would not enjoy it—the terrain is rough, and ...”

“I may not be of much use,” David replied smoothly, “but I’d like to see more of what you’ve accomplished.”

Mentally, he cursed himself. Why had he said yes to her invitation? He must practice keeping his distance from her, after all. Soon enough, she would wish to have nothing to do with him.

“But what about Lucius?” Kate was saying. “You’ll want to show him about Westerly, won’t you?”

David smiled, and cravenly put down this opportunity to back away. He assured himself that this would be the last time that he would pander to his need for her company.

“If I know Lucius, he won’t put in an appearance for at least another three hours. Till then, I’ll avail myself of the opportunity to examine your find.”

Kate flushed a little. “Perhaps you’d like to bring your sketchbook,” she said lightly. “I remember you rarely stepped outside without it. You know, I kept all the drawings you left.” She smiled at David’s disparaging gesture. “Yes, I know you would never admit to your talent, but I still treasure the portrait you made of Philip when he was sixteen—and, of course, there was that scandalous sketch you made of me bare legged in my shift—when I was five. At any rate,” she continued as David joined in her laughter, “I would greatly appreciate an accurate rendering of some of the artifacts.”

The two finished their breakfast in companionable conversation, and it was not long before they left the house—Kate garbed in one of her working ensembles and David in leather breeches and boots.

They rode slowly over meadows glowing in the clear light of summer. David took a bittersweet pleasure in the luxury of her companionship.

“Sometimes,” mused David, “in Spain, when we trudged over endless miles of hot, brown, dusty plains, it seemed the only thing that kept me going was the memory of these perfect green fields.” He gestured over the rolling hills, sloping to the broad plain that bordered the Avon. Beyond, another range of emerald undulations could be seen, softened by the haze of distance.

“‘This sceptered isle,’“ quoted Kate softly. “‘This throne of kings ...’ ”

“‘This England,’ ” finished David, with a satisfied sigh. Their mounts drew near to one another, and unthinking, his hand lifted to touch Kate’s. Recollecting himself, he turned his horse away and hastened his pace.

He pointed to the thinly covered fields he had noticed the day before.

“What happened here? Come harvest, those acres will produce less than half of what they should.”

“They haven’t been properly fertilized for over three years,” replied Kate. “The money for it just isn’t there. Or, at least so said Uncle Thomas.”

David grunted.

“Apparently there’s no money to fix the tenant’s cottages, either, but plenty to keep Lawrence decked out like the princeling of a small country.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “Things have come to a sad pass. Uncle Thomas kept saying it was only temporary, and with a little luck we would come about.”

“That’s what he was saying when I rode away from here six years ago. Even then, matters were getting serious.”

When they reached their destination, David searched until he found a boulder with which he could dismount without help. As he accomplished this maneuver, Kate scrambled from her little mare and climbed along the rocky hillside until she was out of sight. In a few moments he joined her, and they silently tethered their horses.

“It’s too bad,” Kate said as they picked their way gingerly along the rock outcropping, “that the owner of the villa chose to back his home up against the side of the hill. It’s an extraordinarily beautiful site, of course. See? The lord and lady of the house could sit here—perhaps they even created some sort of terrace—and watch the traffic below on the Via Julia and the river beyond while the children played beside them. Unfortunately, all the hills around here are riddled with tiny springs, and according to my reading, this area was subjected to heavy rains at one point in the history of Roman Britain. There was a lot of flooding, and that’s when the house must have been smothered in mud slides.”

“Lord,” responded David, “I hope everyone got out all right.”

Kate shivered.

“I hope so, too. I think they must have, for I have found no skeletons. Perhaps the slides came gradually, although the inhabitants must have rushed out in rather a hurry to have left things like the boy’s head behind.”

They had now reached the entrance to the excavation, and David glanced uneasily at the meager wooden supports wedged into the earth surrounding them. Inside Kate lit the lanterns she kept there, and David glanced about with interest.

Here, at the front of the house, the hill had stopped its advance, and the roof had managed to withstand the mud onslaught. Kate, with Jem’s help, had placed reinforcing supports around the room, and by the light of the flickering lantern, it could be seen that they stood in what might have been a dining chamber. The rotted remains of a wooden table lay scattered on the tessellated floor, and in one corner a pair of bronze urns lay askew. There were niches cut into the walls, all empty except for the marble head David had seen before.

“This is absolutely amazing,” David breathed.

“There are two other rooms whose walls still support the roof. I don’t know what their functions were. The furniture was evidently made from wood, but what were probably tables and chairs are now little more than piles of mold. There are some artifacts, though. See ...” She led him to a second chamber. “In here are a few copper bowls, and a small statue, perhaps of a goddess.”

David joined her, and picked up a small iron hoop.

“A child’s toy?” he asked, brows lifted.

“Possibly. Or it may have been part of a tool, or utensil, or even some sort of adornment.”

As he prepared to toss the hoop aside, Kate stayed him with her hand.

“All the items you see here are just as I found them. I know that many so-called devotees of what is coming to be called the science of archaeology see it merely as a means to acquiring pretty
objets d’art
for their drawing rooms, but I have been reading the work of Samuel Lyson—he has examined remains in many locations—even in Bath, and I agree with him in thinking of archaeology as a pathway to knowledge of the ancient world. I have been trying to make a careful record of everything I find, and note precisely where I find it.”

“I see,” responded David with some amusement. “I take it, that’s where I come in.”

“Yes. Once an object has been sketched in situ, I will remove it to a safe place. Are you managing all right?” she asked as David limped across the chamber to examine an oddly shaped bit of metal.

David opened his mouth to return a cutting rejoinder, as was his habit when offered what might be construed as sympathy, but observing the concern apparent in her hazel eyes, his expression softened.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. Is this the other room you spoke of?” He moved toward an opening in the wall, which apparently led deeper into the house.

“Oh, do be careful! I have constructed no supports in there as yet, and there must be a considerable weight of dirt above it.”

Lifting his lantern high, he peered cautiously into the darkness. The room was a large one, and, smothering an exclamation, he moved into the gloom toward the far end.

“Look! A wall painting! Is this—it’s a soldier, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” replied Kate eagerly. “The drawing appears to be a rendering of a battle scene. See? There are more soldiers in the background, with spears and swords. At least, I think so. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to scrape off some of this mold without ruining the picture.”

David did not reply, but stood before the painting in rapt attention.

“This is incredible, Kate! To think that this has lain here for centuries...”

David found himself almost unable to tear his eyes from the figure before him. The man’s features could not be seen clearly behind the helmet that covered not only his head, but part of his face. Dressed in full armor, he brandished a sword, fending off a foe who appeared to be not nearly so well equipped. There was something about the soldier that held David mesmerized.

From the ornate design on his breastplate, he deduced the warrior was an officer. Yes, for surely he was leading the men who could be dimly seen beyond his shoulder. His attitude spoke of determination as well as a certain fury. David almost smiled. He could well remember the ferocity with which he had so many times cloaked himself in battle. A blood rage helped silence the fear that whispered in a man’s ear, and anguish at the slaughter around him.

Suddenly, he found the confines of the dark room oppressive. He cast an uneasy glance at the ceiling, some of whose beams already lay in broken fragments on the floor. Turning to leave, he stumbled over a small object on the floor. He picked it up and, mindful of Kate’s admonition, did not carry it from the room, but held it up to the lantern light to examine it.

It was small and triangular, and made of stone. He called to Kate, who moved to his side and took it from him delightedly.

“Why, I believe it’s what is called an antefix. I have read of them—many have been found at other ruins, but this is the first I’ve seen. They were used to cap the ends of roof supports. And look, there’s a design cut into it. Often they were individually ornamented to relate to the owner of the home.

“It looks like letters—L—E—G, I think, and two
XX’s.
There seems to be some sort of animal carved underneath.”

“The Twentieth Legion! Oh, David, the owner of the villa
must
have been a soldier! The Twentieth was stationed in Chester. And their symbol was a boar!”

“But, why would he have lived so far from his camp?”

David curled his fingers around Kate’s hand, turning it so that he could see the inscription on the small triangle more clearly.

“Perhaps he retired here,” she replied. “Many Roman officers did, you know. Just as military men often retire near Bath in our own time. It is thought Bath was a popular spa, even in those days. A great many artifacts have been found in and around Bath, you know. Lyson says that beneath the Pump Room and the Hot Baths, there probably lies a great Roman Bath. Oh, David, just imagine it!”

A silence fell, and Kate became conscious of the warmth of David’s hand cupped around hers. With a sudden intake of breath, she moved abruptly away from him. She stooped to replace the antefix on the ground, glad of the opportunity to hide her heated cheeks from David’s view.

David said nothing, but when Kate again raised her head, he had moved back into the first chamber.

“I think,” he said, in a flat voice, “I’ll sketch the boy first. Then you can take him to a safe place. I shouldn’t wonder,” he added, “if someday this whole place doesn’t crumble about your ears. The structure can’t be stable.”

“No, you’re quite right.” She emerged to join him. “But I think this room, at least, is safe enough, and the second one as well, for I’m sure they’re adequately supported.”

David’s face assumed a skeptical expression, but he said nothing.

“And next week,” she continued, oblivious, “I have secured Jem’s services for three whole days in order to shore up the third room. You have no idea the amount of pleading and wheedling it took to obtain Moody’s consent. You’d think the stables would fall into chaos without Jem’s constant presence.”

“Well, our stables have always been a busy place,” he said. “I see that Father still maintained his string.”

“Yes, and all of them eating their heads off, but he wouldn’t hear of parting with any of them.”

Kate moved to where her digging tools stood against the wall and selected a small spade.

“I believe I’ll work outside. There’s an area just beyond the entrance that I’ve been meaning to look at. The ground has an odd curvature there that I think might indicate a courtyard, or perhaps an anteroom.” She glanced uncertainly at David. “Do you have enough light to work here? I have more lanterns. Will you be comfortable? Perhaps a stool...”

He lifted a hand in protest.

“I’ll be fine. Do you want just a sketch of the head, or do you need the whole room?”