“We should have our preprandial in honor of Carlyle,” Mr. Fortesque said. He rose and walked toward Lakehurst. “I shall assist you, my lord,” he said.
“Lord Lakehurst,” Mr. Stillworth said from his seat across the room.
Lakehurst turned to Stillworth while Mr. Fortesque continued organizing the glasses and pouring the aromatic liquor.
“Have you gone to look at the cave since you arrived here?” Stillworth asked.
“Yes,” Lakehurst said. “Carlyle took me there. Evidence remains that Lord Darkford had it kitted out elegantly; however, over the past eighteen months, bats and other vermin have taken over. Bat guano covers the floor and leaves a most unpleasant odor.”
“That is unfortunate,” Mr. Fortesque said.
“Why do you say unfortunate?” Lakehurst asked. He glanced back at Mr. Fortesque.
“I believe I should bless the cave.”
“Bless the cave?”
“Yes. To dispel whatever lingered.” He looked at Lady Darkford. “I believe a blessing will ease your mind.”
“I don’t believe anything could ease my mind about that cave, Mr. Fortesque.”
“Hmmm. We shall see.” He handed a small tray of drinks to Lakehurst. “Would you do the honors to pass these to the ladies while I finish pouring the rest of the glasses?”
“I can do that,” Lakehurst said, accepting the tray from him. He passed the drinks to the ladies and accepted a glass from Mr. Fortesque as he passed the rest of the glasses around to the men.
“I should like,” Mr. Fortesque said, “to bless Carlyle for his Tidemark family loyalty. Such dedication is rare. And to call a blessing down upon all of us in this sad time,” he said. He raised his glass and then drank it. The company followed his lead. Cassie whispered, “Amen.”
Mr. Fortesque confused him. Lakehurst could understand a blessing for Carlyle, but why would he want to bless the cave?
The company was quiet for a moment after the blessing toast, then Mr. Harold came to the doorway. “Dinner is served,” he intoned.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
The Cave
The shallow, first chamber of the cave was not anything Cassie remembered. She held her lantern up and turned slowly to look about. Old bits of vermin-chewed red velvet upholstered furniture layered with limestone dust sat in companionable arrangements. Along one short wall stood a bookcase filled with gray and moldy books. The room could have been an abandoned gentlemen’s club room if not for the stone walls, floor, and ceiling. At the back left corner was a narrow opening in the cave wall. Mr. Stillworth led them to that doorway. A strong smell of bat guano wafted through the opening. She pulled out a handkerchief from the hidden pocket of her gown and held it to her nose.
Suddenly she wondered why she was here? Why had she wanted to return to her nightmare? Where was everyone else? Her brother, Ann, Ursula, and the others from dinner? Why weren’t they here? Lakehurst followed behind her; however, he was the only one.
She vaguely remembered Mr. Fortesque suggesting the visit after dinner, and she remembered agreeing, thinking, of course, she would go. Now she wondered why? It had felt somehow right to agree. There had been no thought associated with her agreement.
As she stepped forward into the grand cavern, her lantern light became pathetically inadequate for lighting the area and seeing more than ten feet in front of her. Mr. Fortesque took a torch from a bracket on the wall and lit it with his lantern, then lit several others on one side while Mr. Stillworth lit the other side.
She followed Mr. Fortesque without questioning why until she saw the stone altar. The sight of it jarred her. She stopped, frozen in place, and watched Mr. Fortesque walk ahead to finish lighting the torches. Lakehurst came up beside her.
Shouldn’t it seem odd to her that Mr. Fortesque and Mr. Stillworth knew where the torches hung in the dark cavern? Her thinking felt muddled, a combination of accepting and questioning. She reached out for Lakehurst’s lantern-bearing arm and clasped onto it.
“You’re coming out of it, too,” he whispered.
She looked up at him with confusion.
“The drink before dinner.” He spoke with a bare whisper, his head leaning toward hers.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Drugged?” she mouthed.
He nodded.
Finished with lighting the torches, Mr. Fortesque came toward them. “You look quite comfortable with one another. I hadn’t expected that,” he said.
