Gene Of Isis Part 6

My first official social engagement could not have been more memorable.

There was the minor inconvenience of having Mr Devere seated on my right, but to the best of my recollection he happily exchanged words with Lady Vanessa Cavandish for most of the evening. To my left was Lord Hamilton, by whose conversation I remained transfixed for the four courses of the meal. I was transported to the discovery of a temple complex at Serabit el-Khadim, which dated back to four thousand years before Christ. Lord Hereford theorised that this complex, if excavated, could prove to be the location of Moses' mount from the Bible.

I was captivated as I listened to Lord Hamilton relate how he and his a.s.sociates fought to create interest in the project and raise funds for the huge excavation. At every turn the doors of the Establishment, which were closely watched by church interests, had been slammed in their faces. Lord Hamilton sank twenty years of his life into the excavation, and as much money as he was permitted by the claim of primogeniture on his family fortune.

He was aware that he had hardly made a dent in what he suspected was a huge complex. The only reason he was not still there was due to the local authorities deciding to withdraw their permission for foreigners to excavate the site-just as they'd uncovered a chamber door that threatened to lead somewhere interesting. Douglas Hamilton had been locked out of the Holy Land and had not been permitted to return there since.

The viscount retired early, as he'd had a full day of activity. He cursed his age and bade me goodnight. He was growing fond of me, as traces of a rosy pink glow were penetrating a large black cloud encasing his heart centre, which I had been trying to ignore. My understanding was that Lord Hamilton's heart died along with his wife, and as he had no children to love and no career or project, his heart centre had shut down for want of use. I feared that his physical heart might soon follow suit.

I retired shortly after Lord Hamilton to gaze upon the fire in my room and allow my thoughts to further dwell upon him. As I sat there, trying to imagine that the heat of the fire was a desert sun beating against my face, my hand had come to rest upon the stone shoved between my breast and my corset for safekeeping.

I was so preoccupied with my current mood that I had no desire to call upon my new otherworldly a.s.sociate this evening. I wanted to retire into sleep and allow visions of ancient and sacred places to fill my dreams.

I leant back in my chair and contemplated ringing for Nanny to a.s.sist me to undress, when from the corner of my eye I saw a note slide under my door.

The note was sealed with wax but not stamped, and upon opening the door I realised the messenger must have departed the hallway in haste.

I shut myself inside my room before opening the note which read-Look out your window. I crossed the room to the window and, pulling the heavy drapes slightly apart, I spied Mr Devere standing by the gaslight feature in the courtyard, with my missing bonnet in hand. He grinned and waved. I crossed the room to the window and, pulling the heavy drapes slightly apart, I spied Mr Devere standing by the gaslight feature in the courtyard, with my missing bonnet in hand. He grinned and waved.

I closed the curtain at once. 'What must I do to be rid of that man!' I searched for my shawl. 'I've only known him one day and already I wish we'd never met!' I resolved that I'd best go fetch my bonnet if I wished to avoid the risk of having to explain to anyone else how it went missing.

The temperature was chilly and I made it clear that I didn't appreciate being dragged outdoors as I curtseyed politely. 'This is a little inappropriate, don't you think, Mr Devere?'

'Well, I have been trying to get you alone all day to return it, Miss Granville,' he explained, in good humour, 'but your fascination with Lord Hamilton forced me to this solution.'

'Could you not have had a maid drop it back to my room?'

'But that might have led to gossip,' he suggested with a cheeky smile.

'Well, I daresay if anyone sees us at present it will generate far more gossip.' I tried not to be amused by my own comment. 'So, I bid you good evening-'

'Don't go.' He reached for my wrist to prevent my departure and then immediately let go. 'Tell me what you were doing with your bare feet in an icycold stream at the break of dawn this morning?'

'Fishing,' I responded in jest and gave a laugh.

'Well, I daresay you caught something.' The man's tone turned intimate and goodwill oozed from his being.

'Yes.' I pretended not to catch his meaning. 'A cold, most likely, that is being irritated by this night air.' This time when I made for indoors he did not make a move to stop me.

'Funny, you don't seem the social climbing type, Miss Granville.'

His words stopped me in my tracks. I turned back to face him and wonder at his implication.

'Would you really choose a t.i.tle over true love and happiness?' he posited with an arrogance so familiar that I was offended almost beyond response.

'You a.s.sume a great deal from one day's acquaintance,' I replied, boiling with fury inside.

'I fear that a distant a.s.sessment is all the opportunity you shall ever allow me, because I was born a second son.'

My heart sank at his low a.s.sessment of my character, but what was more worrying was that I cared what he thought-why? 'I do not feel it fair that you should judge me by the desires of other women. I have a different set of values, motives and goals from most of my gender, so far as I am aware...except perhaps the Dowager Countess of Derby.'

He nodded his head to grant that my governess had a somewhat doubtful reputation in society. 'I had the great honour of meeting her once, when I was about twelve years old.' He seemed more at ease now that we had found a conversation and departed the argument. 'I stumbled upon her taking solace in a quiet moment, separated from the ball that my parents were hosting. She asked me if I wanted to learn something about myself.' He nodded and smiled to confirm he had taken her up on the offer, and when he raised his eyebrows, I a.s.sumed he'd found her discourse very interesting. 'I do believe that, in the hour she spoke to me that night, she told me more about myself than I have managed to deduce since.'

His hearty laugh amused me. He was rather different to your average, stuffy, run-of-the-mill n.o.bleman. He actually had me interested. 'Did she speak to you of your nature, or future events?' I knew my governess and the courses her insights took.

'Both.' He sounded surprised that I had managed to predict the turn of their discussion. 'I've never spoken of it to anyone before, but I feel I must tell you, you, for the Dowager Lady Cavandish predicted many events in my life...and I do believe that she predicted my meeting you, Miss Granville.' for the Dowager Lady Cavandish predicted many events in my life...and I do believe that she predicted my meeting you, Miss Granville.'

Now that twist in the conversation I had not expected. 'Why do you think so?' d.a.m.n my curiosity, I had to ask.

Mr Devere suddenly became uncomfortable and he hesitated. 'I didn't expect that we'd be having this conversation so soon...perhaps it would be best left for when you have had more time to a.s.sess my character. For I am not the money-hungry lord wish-to-be that I fear you take me for. I'd like a little time to prove that to you.'

My mind went blank. I was shocked that one day in society could lead to such complicated emotional situations! What was I going to say to this man, for clearly he did carry feelings for me already. I had been warned, and well knew, that my kin took their courting very seriously...but one day! What if this was what every day would bring? I now realised why women in my position chose to marry so fast-to escape situations like this! 'Believe me when I say that I would only bring you grief. It is because you are such a fine being, Mr Devere, that I know you shall be far happier, contented and prosperous without me in your life.'

'Contented and prosperous I'll grant, for I have been warned that would be the case. But shall I be happier? I do believe you will be proved wrong on that count.'

I could usually sense a lie and he was far too confident to be lying. 'Well, I cannot comment, as I do not know the details of the confidence to which you refer. Lady Charlotte never disclosed any prediction of our meeting to me.'

'Did she not?' He seemed surprised, and became quiet, pondering his next move.

Mr Devere badly wanted to tell me something and I just had to know. I attuned to his mental activity, which was accomplished by raising the intake of cosmic energy into my spirit-body; unfortunately this also tended to drown out whatever conversation or noise was going on in the physical world. If Mr Devere said anything beyond this point I did not hear it.

But she described you so perfectly. You would be like no woman I'd ever met . .. at home in the wilds and with any cla.s.s of people. You even have the look of a wood nymph about you, just as Lady Cavandish described.

Then I perceived Mr Devere's memory of his discourse with Lady Charlotte, who appeared to be much the same age as when I had met her. She was holding both of the lad's hands and saying, 'Like me, she will know things n.o.body else knows and see beyond all things. For she is of an ancient bloodline of kings, as are you, Master Earnest.'

I smothered a gasp, as Lady Charlotte had not mentioned any such thing to me. I was suddenly fearful that Mr Devere had knowledge of me that I did not have.

'Goodnight, Mr Devere.' I curtseyed and departed, ignoring his request for an explanation for my hurried departure.

Blessed Nanny, who read all the confusing events of the day in my expression, aided in removing my attire without asking one question to disturb my quiet contemplation.

What if it wasn't me that Lady Charlotte spoke of in Mr Devere's memory? Maybe he's got entirely the wrong woman! That would indicate there was another woman with my unusual proclivities who was going to enter Mr Devere's life; now I really was clutching at straws. Yet, I do believe that anything is possible-EXCEPT that I might be destined to be Mrs Devere. That was not going to happen. I was not born to socialise; I wanted to be an explorer, like Lord Hamilton, and visit all the wondrous places he'd told me of today.

'Why was I not born a man?' I asked Nanny as she tucked me into bed.

'Because women need more power,' she said, departing with her candle out the door.

'If I'd been born a man I could go to Lord Hamilton's manor and spend time in his company without worry for reputation and rumour. I could travel abroad alone and not have the burden of dragging anyone else along with me...except for Nanny of course, if she'd come.'

I rolled my treasure stone around in my fingers, wishing I'd summoned a genie to it, who would grant me such wishes. 'Perhaps in the East I shall find a genie one day?' I closed my eyes to imagine the mysterious desert location where I might encounter such an ent.i.ty.

Exotic desert locations had preoccupied my dreams as wished; only, every time I ran into trouble during my explorations, Mr Devere was there to help me out. Our a.s.sociation had seemed altogether too close for my comfort and I awoke with a deep sense of him clinging to my being.

At first the recollection tickled at the centre of my ribcage and I smiled to greet the new day. Then, when my logic collected all the fragmented symbols of my dreams and put them into perspective-then, I was not so pleased.

'He is just after your money,' I lectured as I clambered out of bed to give myself a good talking-to in the mirror of my dresser. 'He's just a pretty face who'll become as boring as the rest, once given an estate and a taste of true power.'

'He does have a very pretty face though,' Nanny commented, teasing.

'I don't want to be wife to an up-and-coming lord!' I told myself very firmly in the mirror. 'I have far more promising plans.'

'Would her ladyship care to share our future with her dear old Nanny?' She approached to start dressing me.

'I would rather marry Lord Hereford and keep him company until death comes for him. I shall be left a Dowager Viscountess-in-mourning, free to take up my husband's work where he left off.' This plan was only just dawning on me and it sounded wonderful. 'You and I would be happy, Lord Hereford would be happy, and papa would be furious, for the family line would die with me.'

'Why do you want to anger Lord Suffolk so?' Nanny felt she should speak up for her employer.

'Simply because Father would be angered if I marry a man of my choosing and not his. Lord Suffolk is no father to me! Lord Derby would be happy for me, because he truly cares about what I think and feel.'

Yes, this was my goal, my destiny! I could hear my father's voice hollering...

'No daughter of mine is going to be an archaeologist!'

My father stood in his study at the Granville townhouse in London, holding a letter of proposal in each hand. I'd been dreading this confrontation for weeks now, but I was determined to have my way. After spending much time together in Derbyshire, Lord Hamilton had, with my encouragement, proposed. The viscount had never thought he would marry again and a.s.sured me sincerely that he would not impose himself on me, in a marital sense. He'd chuckled at the thought of what his money-hungry relatives would think of him taking a young wife-and begetting an heir on her who might disinherit the lot of them. Still, the simple fact was that he relished my company and also the idea of having a student to pa.s.s his knowledge on to. Marriage seemed the very thing, if we were to both get what we wanted.

Unfortunately, Mr Devere was also convinced that I was destined to marry him; hence, the two proposals in my father's possession.

I had written to Lady Charlotte about the incident of her reading for the young Mr Devere, and she responded thus: I do have a recollection of reading for one of the Devere boys when I was in Oxfordshire long ago, but in relation to the specifics of that conversation, you know as well as I do that psychics seldom recall prophecy when they come out of trance. Memory, like myth, is unreliable and does not give a factual account of an event, in my experience, as it can be twisted to suit the situation and with a little imagination can become quite distorted over time. do have a recollection of reading for one of the Devere boys when I was in Oxfordshire long ago, but in relation to the specifics of that conversation, you know as well as I do that psychics seldom recall prophecy when they come out of trance. Memory, like myth, is unreliable and does not give a factual account of an event, in my experience, as it can be twisted to suit the situation and with a little imagination can become quite distorted over time.

I felt sure this was the case with Mr Devere. I held nothing in common with the man, whereas my connection to Lord Hamilton was ten times more evident to me. He felt like home, and, yes, I suspected I was seeking the father figure I'd always wanted, but I didn't care to understand the hidden workings of my mind. It just felt too right to be the wrong move to make.

'Young Devere is a far more suitable match, and has even agreed to link our name to his in regard to the estate.' Father chuckled, pleased about that. 'My grandson will inherit my estate and my name.'

'If that is all you desire, Father, it might be easier if I just stay single, have an affair and bear a b.a.s.t.a.r.d for you.'

'Don't you get vulgar with me, miss.' He let loose his frustration as his energy field filled with stormy clouds.

What infuriated me was that it wasn't my whorish remark that had made him angry; rather, I'd taken the liberty of calling him Father, as only sons were permitted to do.

'Mr Devere is the only suitor to whom I shall consent,' he told me, adamantly.

'I have not needed your consent since I turned twelve,' was my retort. 'Disinherit me, by all means.'

'You stupid girl.' Father locked eyes with me. 'Mark my words...it would be a disaster for you to marry anyone but Mr Devere.'

Naturally I took his advice with a grain of salt. 'Goodbye, Father. I guess if you want an heir, you'll have to remarry and raise one yourself.' I left without further ado.

'Then have your disaster,' my father uttered in my wake, 'but don't say I didn't warn you.'

This did not sound like a threat made in anger, I thought, but more like my father knew more than he was prepared to say.

No! I would not allow him to undermine my confidence. This was my life and I would do as I saw fit with it; to h.e.l.l with the family name and estate. I was to be the Viscountess of Hereford, Lady Hamilton, and I liked the sound of that-it would look quite impressive on a book, I imagined!

Clearly, I was no longer welcome in my father's house, and it was out of the question for me to move my belongings into Lord Hamilton's townhouse before we wed. Alas, I found myself in front of the Cavandish House on Mayfair-this was one of the most sought-after addresses in London.

'I didn't survive one day without you.' I told them my troubles as I was greeted first by Susan, Lord Cavandish and then the rest of the household.

Thankfully, I was greeted with open arms and, fully appreciating my predicament, they invited me to be their guest until my wedding to Lord Hamilton. I don't think any of the Cavandish family truly understood our attraction, except for maybe Lord Derby.

Bless that whole family, for not one of them ever tried to dissuade me from my decision. My word was gospel so far as the Cavandish family was concerned and if I thought Hamilton was the right choice, then he was. I felt it a crying shame my father did not have the same respect for my good sense; from what I could tell he did his best to deny I had any sense, psychic or otherwise.

I was taking tea with the family, who were lending their brain power to help sort out my affairs, when the announcement of the arrival of Lord Devere and his relatives sent me into a panic. I rose immediately to retire to my room, saying that I needed to write a letter to Lord Hereford at once.

The family, of course, understood my need for a quick departure, and excused me as requested.

I didn't escape the Devere family's acquaintance completely, but I had managed to make it to the hallway stairs before they were led past me. I hoped I might escape their notice altogether, but Mr Devere, who was trailing the party, spotted me before he entered the sitting room and changed his course. 'Miss Granville,' he called.

'Good day, Mr Devere.' I looked back but continued to slowly ascend. 'I'm sorry I can't stop to talk. I have an urgent letter to write.'

'Is it to me?'

The hopeful and amorous note in his question made my heart ache and I stopped my ascent. 'No,' I replied, as gentle a rejection as could be delivered.

He sighed and took a second to gather his thoughts. 'So, you are determined to marry Lord Hereford?'

'Word travels fast.' I couldn't believe how fast. I took another step forward to escape this conversation.

'No.' Mr Devere shook his head to a.s.sert he had heard no rumour. 'I can tell by the way you regard me as an enemy, to be avoided.'

I immediately refrained from braving another step. 'Truly, you deserve better than I could ever give you as a wife. I will never make you happy.'

'You do make me happy!' he retorted, then his voice dropped to a whisper. 'G.o.dd.a.m.n it!' He shook his head to collect himself. 'Why should Lord Hereford be more deserving of your affection than I, if it is truly not about the t.i.tle? What can he grant you that I cannot?'

'In a word, freedom,' I replied, and Mr Devere looked at me dumbfounded. 'We both know he is not a well man. Lord Hereford just wants my company for what time he has left, and in return he will supply me with ample funds to indulge my travel ambitions once he has departed this world.' I paused and as Mr Devere still seemed to be at a loss for words, I added, 'I did tell you my agenda was unique to my gender.'

Having pondered my words a moment, Devere replied, 'You're not a romantic then?'

I smiled at his jest. 'No, romance is for those who do not have the stomach for non-fiction.'

'I like a little of both, myself.' He bowed out of the conversation graciously, and moved to join his family in the next room. 'I wish you all the very best for your future, Miss Granville.'

'And you, Mr Devere.'

I dashed to my room to gather my sensibilities.