“Simon, don’t be rude,” Sophia said, lifting her cup to sip at the steaming liquid.
“I am afraid he can’t help himself.” Feeling light of spirit, Elizabeth arched her neck, chin elevated. He was close enough she could see the thickness of his lashes, dark around his eyes, yet tipped blond on the ends. Need rushed into her core, and she exhaled to calm her racing heart. “Tis no fable, my lord, but a true tale of love and loss. A tale that everyone else at the table, except for you, wishes to hear.”
“There you’re wrong, I am most eager to hear the story from you.” He licked his own, the lower one fuller than the top. Although he was fair-haired, she could see the shadow of his beard. Would his skin be soft or swarthy?
She curled her fingers into her palm and tried to pull her mind from such a precarious place. Three similar pairs of hazel eyes were focused on her. Thus far, all the Beaumonts resembled their mother. She could very well see why society called them the Beautiful Beaumonts. Even the plainest was exceptional looking. “There was a woman who lived outside of Upper Waverley in an old thatch cottage. She was said to have gone mad after losing her true love at sea.”
“Her true love lost. What a promising tale this will be.” Lady Collette rested her chin on her fist, her elbow on the table.
Aunt Nora released a soft sigh, her eyes closed. She had been awake all night and her fatigue was clear. She had insisted on attending the luncheon despite Elizabeth’s concern. If anyone else minded her aunt napping, they said nothing. All the more reason she was fast becoming enamored of Langdon’s family.
Elizabeth nodded, warming up to the subject at hand. She had grown up listening to the legend of the grey woman and the story still thrilled her after all these years. “She was seen late at night during a horrible storm, walking the coastline calling for him.”
“How very heartbreaking.” Sophia leaned forward, the light of interest animating her solemn expression.
In the other woman’s face and form, Elizabeth could see a reflection of herself. Both hid behind dowdy gowns and their dignity. It was a lonesome existence. She wasn’t familiar with Sophia’s history but her own was fraught with tragedy. Soon it would pass. At least she prayed it was the case. Living a lie was wearing.
“One night a fisherman was late in coming in and was gathering his net when he saw her on the steep cliff, a lantern high over her head as she traversed the slippery rocks.” The coastline near her home was comprised of jagged rocks and hidden caves, plenty of places to hide contraband so the authorities couldn’t find it. However, the local authorities in Lower Waverly headed the smuggling ring. The entire situation proved frustrating. Help was on the way as well as hope.
“How very thrilling,” Lady Collette said with a teasing wink.
“The fisherman said he heard a loud cackle then the flap of a cloth against a strong wind. He glanced up to find her suspended in air, her arms flailing.”
Lady Collette’s eyelids lifted impossibly wide. Elizabeth had a sense the woman carried a flare for the dramatic, coupled with a youthful exuberance that spoke of good humor. “Was she a witch?”
“She sounds rather like a lunatic,” Langdon said, taking one chocolate and bringing it to his mouth. He didn’t take a bite but hovered it just shy of his lips.
Elizabeth stared down her nose at him and tried her best to avoid looking at his mouth. Clearing her throat, she inclined toward Lady Collette and in a stage whisper said, “She rode the wind down into the depths of the sea. Never to be seen alive again. She haunts the cliffs to this day.”
“Have you seen her ghost?” Lady Collette asked.
With a nod, Elizabeth sat back in her chair, pleased to find the other occupants enraptured by her story. “I heard it said from the fishermen that late at night you could see the lantern and hear her wild laugh. When I was but a young girl, I snuck out of the house to see this apparition for myself.”
Sophia rubbed her hands along her arms. “You saw her?”
“I first saw a shadowed figure moving along the cliffs by the light of the moon and then I could not believe my eyes. The yellow light of a lantern appeared, and I saw her long white hair whipping in the wind. I followed her as she floated along the craggy cliff and down a secret path to the sea below...” Elizabeth trailed off, a smile of pure devilry forming.
“Oh, you’re a wonderful storyteller.” Lady Collette reached over and squeezed her hand. Pleasure rode her features, making her appear even more ethereal. “Don’t you think so, children?”
“Yes, Mrs. Adare is a gifted storyteller.” Sophia nodded in agreement and relaxed back in her seat, the apples of her cheeks flushed. The color made her look younger and less severe.
When Langdon said nothing, she twisted in her seat. “You doubt my story?” Elizabeth challenged.
“I know you saw someone, probably a villager out too late at the pub,” he said.
Annoyed and unsure why, she twisted more fully to face him. “I can assure you it was not a villager. Once on the cove I followed her to the cave where the smu...”
“Forgive my misgivings. Mrs. Adare,” Langdon cut in, casting Elizabeth a meaningful stare. “Unlike my mother, I will believe it when I see it with my own eyes.”
She bit her bottom lip at the near slip of the tongue. Disclosing the existence of the smugglers was not a wise thing to do.
“You may scoff at me if you will, but someday you will believe, because I intend to come back to haunt you until you admit I am right,” Lady Collette threatened, undeterred by her son.
“I still would never admit to believing because I much enjoy having you around, hounding me in death as you do in life,” Langdon said. He took a bite of the truffle, the muscles of his jaw working.
“You are a dear boy to admit your affection for your mother. But I don’t hound, I only push my children in the right direction.” Lady Colette said. “Mrs. Adare, you were not finished with your tale.”
Tearing her attention away from Langdon, she lifted her cup and sipped at the warm tea. The room was overly hot as more and more of Lady Collette’s guests entered, the noise level becoming louder. “Oh, of course, how remiss of me. Well, once on the beach I saw an alcove at the base of the cliff and in it stood a wizened old woman, dressed in the robes of a bygone era. She stared at me and let loose a hair-raising cackle before she disappeared into thin air.”
