The weight of the weapon pulled his arm back.Neil fumblingly righted his grip just as the blade swung against one of the pavilion’s mossy pillars.
It seemed to snag against the stone.With a twist of his wrist, Neil pulled it loose.
He clasped the flaming blade with both hands, holding it still and steady in front of him as he caught his breath.Carefully, he shifted Dyrnwyn to his left hand, then used the right to pull a handkerchief from his pocket.He yanked the scrap of fabric around the hilt, and the blade finally snuffed out.
Shoulders sagging with relief, Neil finally wrapped the weapon in the slightly charred towel.Holding it to his chest, he indulged in a moment of feeling wretchedly sorry for himself.
How had he ended up with this thing?What the devil was he going to do with it?
He resigned himself to completely failing to find an answer to either of those questions tonight.
Picking up the lantern, he turned to go—then hesitated as something caught his eye on the surface of the nearby pillar.He brought the lamp closer, where the glow fell across a straight, dark cut that marred the stone.
The line was very regular for a natural fault in the rock.Strangely, it looked as though the moss that grew over the surface was neatly severed as well.
That’s odd, he thought with an uneasy itch of discomfort.
He backed away from it—both the railing and the feeling—and hurried from the pavilion.
?
Fifteen
Ellie felt freshand rested as she stepped into the breakfast room the next morning.The space was bright and airy with a Morris print paper on the walls and thick Persian carpets on the floor.The buffet table was loaded with platters of unfamiliar dishes that all smelled delicious.She headed for the teapot first, pouring out a cup of strong, milky brew.
Neil trailed into the room.He wore a green canvas shooting jacket over a brown waistcoat.Elle was momentarily thrown by the sight of him in something other than tweed, but he must have already dressed for their excursion.
His eyes were ringed with shadows behind the frames of his spectacles.
“You look a bit rough,” Ellie pointed out.
“Thank you,” Neil replied tiredly.
“Was it the heat?Or was the bed too soft?”
“Connie asked me to marry her,” Neil replied distractedly as he poured himself a cup.
Ellie froze with the sugar spoon suspended over her tea.
“I mean to pretend to be marrying her,” Neil quickly corrected himself.“To be engaged.Pretending… to be engaged.”
“Drat,” Ellie blurted out.“I wondered whether she really planned to go through with that.”
Neil fumbled his tea, nearly spilling it.“Youknewabout it?”
Ellie squirmed.“It’s possible that she might have briefly mentioned that the notion had occurred to her…”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t know she was serious!”
“When is she not serious?”Neil protested, only barely keeping a hold on his cup.“She was serious about starting an ant farm in the scullery!”
“But what did you, er…” Ellie started uncomfortably.
“I didn’t,” Neil returned bluntly.“She withdrew the request.”
Ellie frowned with surprise.“She did?”
