“I can, actually,” Nora said softly, tugging a long bit of grass free of her petticoat. “She was always so unbelievably resilient and determined.”
“You helped her feel that way, you know,” Thomas said, steadying her as she plucked a twig from elsewhere. Nora froze and stood straight.
“You give me too much credit.”
“You were never given enough,” he replied, shaking his head. “Beth became the truest version of herself around you, and I don’t believe Mother and I ever thanked you enough for that.” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “So, thank you, my love.”
“I hope you love me for more than just that,” she said, attempting to lighten the air.
“You know I do.” He was nearly undone by the dreamy look that came into her soulful eyes. How could he ever hope to convey to her how much she meant to him—how much she’d always meant to him? He vowed to find a way.
One hundred more paces and Nora let out a little yelp of pain.
“What happened?”
“A rock in my slipper,” she hissed. “These shoes were not made for traversing such terrain.”
“Leave it to you to wear impractical footwear.” He chuffed in response to Nora’s glare and helped her to sit atop a boulder so she might fish out the pebble.
“You know very well I’d no idea this would be how the day went when I dressed this morning.” She sighed and flung away the offending bit of earth. “How much further do you suppose it is?”
“Can’t be too much further—not if that last bit of writing was a hint at the distance. I’d say we’ve traveled close to two-hundred paces at this point.” Thomas crouched down to examine the sole of Nora’s foot despite her protests. Satisfied that there was no blood staining her stocking, he helped her to replace it…and caught sight of something odd.
Nora noticed the change in his posture. “What is it?” She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing. “What do you see?”
Thomas pointed and pulled her to crouch lower with him. Once their eyes were level, he pointed out the harsh line of a carved block of stone just visible beyond the wide, gnarled trunk of an ancient oak. Nora’s heart began to pound furiously.
“Is that—do you think?”
Thomas nodded mutely. Taking her hand in his, they stood and approached the tree.
Both of them lost their breath as soon as they rounded the trunk and saw, tucked away in a copse of trees with fiery leaves and a bed of verdant grass, was the arch.
The Lovers’ Arch.
Chapter Ten
Nora’s hands flew to her mouth and tears instantly flooded her vision. Thomas hugged her close and buried his lips in her hair. She felt his shoulders shake now and then, but he was silent as he experienced the same mixture of joy and grief she was.
Once they recovered themselves, Nora and Thomas began to explore. There in the dappled golden light was the very arch Beth had obsessed over for more than two decades. It was beautiful. With smoothly carved blocks and artful pillars, rippling stonework on the archway with a sizable keystone, it was nothing short of a work of art.
There, it had stood unbothered by the centuries, holding its secrets and biding its time.
“I can’t believe it,” Nora said somewhat shakily as she traced ancient chisel marks and admired the craftsmanship. The archway’s apex was high enough to provide Thomas’s tall frame room to pass beneath it; the width was enough to admittwo people with room to spare. Despite what she’d said earlier, she now understood how The Lovers’ Arch might have gone unnoticed through the years. This part of the park wasn’t well-traversed. The trees surrounding it had to be at least half-a-century in age, if not more. Even if it had been seen, it was easy to dismiss as meaningless unless one knew of its origins.
“It’s incredible,” Thomas murmured appreciatively. “But…”
“What?” she asked, looking away from the graceful curve of one of the columns.
He rubbed the back of his neck in indecision. “How can we be sure this isthearch and it’s not just a coincidence? What made Beth believe this was the correct one from the myth?”
Nora pulled her lower lip between her teeth. There was only one way.
She stood directly beneath the keystone and brushed her gloved hand along the inside of the arch, feeling for any sign of carving.
“Be careful,” Thomas cautioned, reaching for her. “It could be unstable.”
She pushed on it and there wasn’t so much as a creak. “Seems fairly sturdy to me.” She tried not to laugh at the dramatic downturn of Thomas’s mouth. “Help me search.”
