Page 44

"Oh, Papa. So very happy."

"Then so am I, my love. So am I."

"Well!" George declared, looking around at the family, who had now gathered about the happy couple. "I think that calls for champagne! Johnson! Champagne, man, and plenty of it! We have an engagement to celebrate!"

Chapter Nineteen

A week later, Nathaniel stood in the trench that now bisected the barrow. It had been widened and substantially strengthened around the entrance. The sealed opening to what could only be a burial chamber now stood exposed, and today they would finally discover what secrets, if any, it held. He felt the same jolt of excitement that he did every time he uncovered a new object or opened a door to the past, but along with the bubbling sense of anticipation, he also felt a little nervousness, for today was to be a family affair.

The whole Darcy clan was gathering, with a picnic no less, to witness what Harwood had termed the grand event. If he lifted the stones and only a dusty old urn lay within, would his spectators be disappointed? He knew Kate would not be. She would find something to learn or admire in anything they uncovered. She had such a curious, quick mind, and he was finding it hard to imagine any future investigations in which she was not beside him.

He heard the mingled voices, the barking of a dog and the general laughter and noise of a family heading towards the trench, and climbed up the ladder until his head was visible above the edge.

"Hello!" he called, waving as if they did not know perfectly well where to find him.

He laughed when baby William waved wildly back at him, and Pegasus made straight for the trench, thrusting his nose towards Nathaniel's face before beginning an enthusiastic investigation of the edge of the hole. "Well, this is a fine welcome," he said to the little dog, who rewarded him with an affectionate lick before hurrying away to sniff at something else.

"Come now, Briar!" called Harwood merrily, his son in one arm and a picnic basket in the other. "I have been promised treasure, and treasure I shall have. Now, does anyone have a trumpet? I feel there ought to be some sort of fanfare before we crack the blasted thing open."

"There will be no trumpets, George," said his wife with a laugh. "And you have absolutely not been promised treasure. This is, as I understand it, a very serious scientific discovery, my love, and you might attempt to be a little serious yourself."

"Princess, you would find me a terribly dull fellow if I were serious all the time."

"Perhaps," she said, arching an eyebrow, "but if you were serious just a little of the time, I feel I could bear it tolerably well."

George laughed and handed the picnic basket to a waiting footman before joining the rest of the family around the edge of the excavation. Darcy had already begun examining the alterations to the trench, looking with approval at the wooden supports that had been added around the entrance.

"You have expanded this significantly since yesterday," he observed.

"Well," said Nathaniel, running a hand through his hair sheepishly, "I may have got a little carried away. Watkins is not entirely happy with me. Are you, Watkins?"

"You do as you see fit, sir," replied the head labourer, although Nathaniel noticed that he glanced rather wearily at the great heap of earth they had spent the previous afternoon removing.

"Very good. Will you fetch your tools, please? The audience is assembled, and we ought to begin."

"Right you are, sir."

"Mr Briar!" Mina's voice came down to him from above. She had taken up a position beside her father and was regarding the entrance with an apprehensive look. "I am here because I was too curious to stay at home, but I shall cover my eyes during the opening, and you must be very clear if there is a skeleton, because I have no wish to see it."

"You have my word as a gentleman," said Nathaniel, covering his heart with one hand and giving the younger woman a bow.

Mina nodded seriously and took her father's arm. Pegasus, meanwhile, had discovered a great mound of loose earth and was now rolling enthusiastically upon his back, his four legs waving in the air as he wriggled about in ecstasy.

"Damn dog," grumbled Darcy. "Pegasus! Come here! You shall be filthy."

"He is already filthy, my love," said his wife, looking at the spaniel with amusement. "You may as well leave him to his pleasure."

Darcy sighed and shook his head, although Nathaniel noticed that he made no further attempt to stop the dog.

"Cathy!" he called, turning back towards the trench. "Will you come down here? It seems only right that you should be one of the party to open our tomb. You have played such a large part in the excavation."

She smiled at him delightedly and hurried towards the ladder. Nathaniel helped her down the last few steps and took her hand as she came to stand beside him at the entrance to the chamber. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and she looked so happy that he had to resist the temptation to kiss her there and then. There would be time enough for that later, he supposed, although he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself now that they were engaged.

"Oh, Nathaniel, I can scarcely believe we are finally here!" she said, looking towards the great stone that sealed the opening. "Do you suppose it has been undisturbed all this time? I have been thinking about the position of the stones, and I cannot see how anyone could have entered without moving them. Surely we shall find something wonderful."

"I have every hope of it, my darling. Now, let us see whether we can persuade this great lump of stone to give up its secrets."

Watkins returned with two of the men, carrying their tools, and Nathaniel directed them to begin easing the heavy covering slab away from its position. They had already removed much of the earth that had pressed against it, but the stone was a great weight and had settled firmly over the years. The men worked carefully, using their crowbars to lift it a little at a time while Nathaniel and Kate watched for any movement in the surrounding stones. He was anxious that nothing should be disturbed unnecessarily, particularly after the damage the dreadful storm had done to the excavation. It would be a terrible thing to have come so far only to damage whatever lay within through a moment's carelessness.