She felt too aware that they were alone here, and that he stood blocking the only exit. Suddenly she wanted to leave.
“So I guessed you might come here tonight before the pots were moved. My dear,” he said, “did you think the significance ofdux bellorumescaped me? I am familiar with your uncle’s work. I know his theory about the historical Arthur in Scotland.”
“But you said there is nothing significant in this site.”
“I kept my thoughts to myself. You and I are both here for same reason. To find King Arthur’s gold.”
“But there is no gold here. I looked in the pots because I wanted to study them in place before you take them away.”
“Surely, you suspect there is more here, as I do. Come here.” He reached for her arm, but she flinched away, so he snatched her wrist in a painful grip. Then he grabbed the candle dish from her and pulled her to the other end of the underground chamber. He moved the flickering light over the vessels.
“When I first saw these vases,” he said, “I was disappointed. So ordinary. And you were fussing with toothbrushes and Danish methods. I thought you might know about the gold too, and just delayed to find it yourself. Your uncle would have told you about it.”
“He never mentioned gold.” She tugged against his hold.
“Sir Hugh first told me about the gold, and then Reverend Carriston mentioned it in a note in one of his books. Hugh was sure it was hidden on his estate somewhere, but never found it. I convinced him that a codicil in his will would protect any treasure found after his death. But I was determined to find it first, if it existed.”
“The codicil was your suggestion?”
“Sir Hugh was brilliant but impractical. He was glad to have a plan to protect his estate. When Sir Aedan set black powder to this hill and the wall was exposed, I thought we might find the treasure at last.”
“But you sent me instead of coming here.” She yanked against his hand, but he did not let go, even when he turned to set the candle atop a wooden box.
“I could not appear too eager, so I sent you before me.”
“Then you always believed this find was important.”
“I had some doubts until I saw your reports. There are intriguing coincidences between this site and the legends. That ancient page you are translating seems to refer to that nonsense about the briar princess.”
“It is not nonsense. I believe now that it truly happened. It is historical.”
“Be that as it may, there may be more important references to Arthur, which could also indicate that the legend of Arthur’s lost treasure has some credence.”
“There is no gold here. Those pots hold honey, grain, and such. My translation has nothing to do with it. This is storeroom. A larder.”
“And bears on the pots. The daughter of the bear,” he said. “Who was that? Curious, don’t you think? Why would the ancestor of the MacBrides write poetry about her in the margin of the roster?”
“I am not sure.” But she knew it was the ancient Aedan’s spell to call back Liadan’s wandering soul. She would not give that to Edgar, and was glad she had not written all her thoughts that day. She wanted to protect the love and power of the charm spell.
“Why do you want this gold? You are a wealthy man,” she said.
“A man can always use more, my dear. Ask Aedan MacBride. His inheritance is dwindling. His father’s fault, to be sure,” he added. “I don’t seek a fortune. Just imagine discovering treasure hidden by King Arthur’s own hand! It would be the most important discovery of our age.” He smiled coldly. “Quite simply, I want the glory of that find.”
“My uncle’s work leads to it, and he should have credit for his theories.”
“Not him, nor you. God forbid a woman should have credit for this accomplishment. Nor should it be attached to Sir Hugh either. This will be my find. I have dreamed of making a glorious discovery nearly all my life. The time has come.”
“But you did not want to come here and do the work yourself.”
“Of course not,” he said easily. He pointed to the pots. “Tell me—you opened these and found ordinary contents. What more did you find?”
“Nothing else.” She would not tell him about the wordòr.It was only honey, after all.
He sighed. “Then I must look for myself.” His glance in the half darkness was sardonic and suddenly dangerous.
How could she have been so wrong about him? She often trusted too well, too quickly. Aedan loathed Edgar, and John disliked him too, and both had tried to warn her. She knew how disagreeable Edgar could be, but had not thought him capable of real harm. She had not recognized Stephen’s darker qualities either, leading to tragedy.
But she realized that Edgar could not let her walk away now, knowing what he intended. He was an academic gone mad for glory he had not earned.
