Page 20 of Miss Davis and the Architect (Dazzling Debutantes #4)

Chapter Seventeen

"There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time."

Jane Austen

* * *

B arclay darted from the terrace, jogging across the gardens toward the woods. He was aware of drawing curious looks from the other guests, but he did not give a damn. He needed to reach Tatiana and ensure she was safe. Approaching the woods, he stopped to scan for the path they had taken days before.

As he entered the trees, the call of birds and the singing of insects were his only companions as he strode down the path. When he left the manor, he had been certain he would find Tatiana, but doubts had crept in as he kept walking. What if Tatiana was not there? His breath caught at the thought. That would mean she was still unaccounted for.

Why had he agreed to this cursed house party? It had created nothing but chaos and hesitation. He had been perfectly satisfied with his prior life, working hard and mourning Natalya’s absence. Now—swallowing hard, Barclay finally admitted the truth—he was in love with Jane, whom he had wronged, and his daughter was missing.

It was all so … complicated.

It was with a huge sense of relief that he caught sight of the pond through the trees. Picking up his pace, he jogged the last of the path and, navigating a final bend, the pond came into view. Across its expanse stood Persephone, gazing back at him over the water. Barclay steadied himself on his feet, giddy with joy when he noted the figure of his daughter scrunched near the feet of the statue.

Careful to avoid the banks of the pond, Barclay ran the last forty feet to join her. His fear was assuaged, but his anxiety returned when he saw how her head was bent against her knees, her slender arms wrapped around her shins.

“Tatiana!”

Her head lifted to reveal a tear-streaked face. “Papa?”

Reaching down, he grasped her under her arms and raised her to his chest in a hard embrace. “Oh, little one, I was so worried about you.”

She lifted her reed-thin arms around his neck, lowering her face against his chest to hug him tightly. “She did not come,” she whispered into his coat.

“Who did not come?”

“Jane did not come. I left her a note, but she did not come.” And, for the third time in as many days, Barclay held a sobbing female to his chest. He looked about, then walked over to a bench near the back of the cave to take a seat. Settling Tatiana on his knee, he pulled out a handkerchief to carefully wipe her cheeks and dry her eyes.

“I do not think that Jane received your note, little one.”

Big, blue eyes found his as she leaned her head back from his chest to look up at him. “How do you know that?”

“I asked her if she knew where you were, and she did not.”

“Oh.” Tatiana hung her head, her expression devastated. “I failed.”

“Failed at what? Why are you here?”

Tatiana turned her face away to stare at the cave wall sweeping around the bench. “You will not believe me. You did not believe me when I tried to tell you before.”

Barclay raked a hand through his hair while he tried to think. He was afraid he had not been on his best behavior these past few days. In an attempt to be responsible and do his duty, he had hurt Tatiana and Jane. He should have listened to his daughter—to his heart—and in not doing so, he had let both of them down.

“I will listen now. Tell me what this is all about, and I promise to pay attention.”

Tatiana bit her lip, evidently considering his words. Eventually, she turned her Baltic-blue eyes back to him. “Mama told me Jane was the one.”

Barclay blinked. “Mama?”

“She came to visit me, and she told me it was time for her to leave and that Jane was to be my new mother.”

Barclay shook his head and tried to make sense of what she was saying. “Do you … mean that Mama came to you in your dreams?”

Tatiana shrugged, clearly disinterested in the distinction. “I tried to tell you that Jane was the one, but you did not listen. Mama said I must insist.”

He sighed. Tatiana had conjured her mother through her grief, as he had been doing these past two years. It was not the important part of what she said. He needed to listen and understand her needs. Then later, hope there was still an opportunity to repair things with Jane and make all this right.

“Why are you here in the grotto?”

“Mama came last night, and she said it was very important that you and Jane come back to the grotto. She said I must arrange it so that she could leave because she had been here too long.”

Tatiana must have observed that he and Jane had forged a special bond and that the grotto had been a place that exemplified that bond.

“I appreciate that, little one, but you really scared me. You could have fallen in the pond without adults here to assist you.”

“The pond?”

“Yes, see that green slime?”

“You mean the vodorosli ?”

He straightened in surprise. “What did you say?”

“Mama told me that when I came to the grotto, I was to be very careful to stay away from the vodorosli .”

A chill ran down Barclay’s spine. It was not possible that Natalya had truly visited her … was it?

“Where did you learn that word?”

Tatiana shrugged. “Mama said it last night. She said she could not remember the English word for it.”

Barclay rubbed his fingers over his forehead. His daughter must have heard her mother say it in the past, plucking it from an old memory. He might not be able to think of a situation in which Natalya would have been discussing vodorosli , but that did not mean she had not had an occasion to use the word with Tatiana. “Algae. The English word is algae.”

“ Al-gee . That is a funny word!”

Barclay smiled. Their conversation was bizarre but, in an instant, Tatiana was just a little girl again, and her simple view of the world utterly charmed him.

Brushing a frond of silver-blonde hair away from her face, he acknowledged that Tatiana had been right. She needed a mother, and he needed a wife. Not just anyone, but someone who could help him navigate the complexities of emotional intimacy. Someone sensitive to the issues his daughter and his mother faced. Someone sensitive to his own needs. Someone like?—

“Jane!”

Snapping his head up, Barclay found Tatiana beaming. She was looking over her shoulder at the entrance of the cave where Jane now stood, a hand resting against the cave entrance while she panted from exertion. Across the pond, Aurora came into view as she stepped out of the woods, evidently following Jane to find them. Both women had their hair bared, apparently having hurried to the grotto without taking a moment to fetch their bonnets.

“Thank … hea … vens!” exclaimed Jane between pants. “I … am so … happy to … see you … Tatiana!”

His daughter wriggled off his lap, landing on the cave floor to race over to Jane and throw her arms about Jane’s waist. “You came!”

“Of course I came … I needed to ensure you were safe.”

“Did you get my note?”

“Your note …? No, I … worked out … where you were. You talked … to me … about reading Aladdin , but it … took me an hour or two … to remember that you called … the grotto your cave of treasures. I would have … remembered earlier … but my head was aching … and I could not think properly, so I searched for you … in all the wrong places before it came to me … Where was the note?” Jane was still recovering her breath, endearing in her haste to find his child safe and well.

“With your strawberries on your breakfast tray. I asked you to meet me here.”

“Oh. I was too tired to make my strawberry water this morning.”

Barclay stood. If there was anything to clarify Jane’s suitability for the role of Tatiana’s mother, certainly her knowledge of the inner workings of his daughter’s mind was a clear sign. Not that the young woman would still consider him eminently suitable after his cloddish avoidance of her.

Nevertheless, he could not help noticing that she was ravishing—if only he could sweep her up in his arms to plant a kiss on her soft mouth, irrespective of his daughter and his mother’s presence.

You cannot—the young woman may have accepted a proposal this very morning.

Barclay’s gaze found the roof of the cave to inspect the composition while Aurora walked up behind Jane, also panting as she released the skirts she had been holding up to speed her progress. The women must have jogged through the woods as he had done. “Ta … tiana! You … scared me … to death … child!” Indeed, his mother had a sheen of sweat across her overheated face, but she looked overjoyed to see her granddaughter.

“I know how to look after myself,” protested the girl with an indignant squaring of her shoulders.

“Of course you do, child. But you cannot stop us from worrying after you. Thirty years from now, we shall still worry after you as if you were but a babe.”

Tatiana groaned. “Adults are so fearful.”

“It is true.” Barclay spoke from the interior of the cave, pulling those ice-blue eyes of the woman he loved to rest on him. He could not read her thoughts, because those windows to her soul were shuttered, revealing nothing.

Was Jane aware he had dissuaded Tatiana from spending time with her—a further insult it embarrassed him to have committed? Fortunately, it did not seem to have affected the relationship between her and his daughter. He had not the right to have said what he had to the child—to interfere in their friendship, which had done nothing but bring Tatiana respite from her grieving.

Aurora looked between Barclay and Jane, her curiosity evident. “So, why are we here?”

Tatiana grabbed her hand to pull her into the cave. “It is a grotto, and it is magical. Come see the other statue.”

“I have been here before,” Aurora responded. “I have seen the statue. Is that why we are here?”

Jane and he both were silent. He raked his hair once more before responding. “Tatiana wanted me and Jane to speak.” He flung his arm up to gesture at the interior of the cave. “She felt we might work out our differences here because … it is magic.”

Aurora tilted her head and turned her eyes up to the roof, back at Persephone, and then toward the hidden entrance to the second cave. “I can understand that. Love has grown here before, for at least one party. The other party … he is dining at the devil’s table in the halls of hell.”

Barclay grimaced. He had done his best not to ponder the question of where at Saunton Park he might have been conceived, but he feared he could now guess the answer. He could imagine a young Aurora having her head turned in such a romantic spot, especially if the old earl had been as handsome in his youth as his younger sons, with their striking green eyes and sable hair.

“Shall I take Tatiana back to the manor?” His mother did not meet his eyes, aware she had offered something improper.

He cleared his throat. “I would appreciate that. Jane and I should talk perhaps … before we return.”

Tatiana clapped her hands. “First you must come see!”

Tugging on Aurora’s hand, Tatiana led the way to the second cave. As they entered, Barclay was again struck by the eerie solitude of the second statue standing in its private cave, with dappled light stealing in from the opening above.

She led them to a bench in the back, where a hamper and blanket rested. Taking hold of Jane’s hand, Tatiana led her forward to sit on the bench. “We did not see it before, but look.”

Jane sat, then turned her head in the direction that the girl pointed, gasping in surprise. “There is a verse etched on the wall of the cave.” She bent from side to side. “It is lit by the sunlight, and it can only be viewed from this bench!”

“What does it say?” Barclay’s curiosity got the better of him, the question spilling from his lips before he could stop himself.

Aurora gazed at the statue in the middle, not looking at the verse but speaking its lines from the recesses of her memory.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,

Doubt that the sun doth move,

Doubt truth to be a liar,

But never doubt I love.”

Barclay smiled. “Tsar.”

His mother smiled in response. “Indeed. He certainly loves his Shakespeare. I would have done well to recall that this was Tsar’s creation, not your sire’s. I confused the two, but”—she turned shining eyes to his—“the sentiment holds true from a mother to a son, which is why I shall never regret my time here.”

He inclined his head, touched by his mother’s support. She stepped forward, taking Tatiana’s hand from Jane. “Come, little one. Your father and Jane should talk while we return to the manor.”

“I got them here!”

“You did, child. Well done.”

Aurora and his daughter headed for the cave exit, leaving Barclay to stand awkwardly in the subdued lighting. Staring at his boots, he rubbed the toe of one boot against the moss on the lit floor while he thought about what to say now that he had his chance. “I think I may owe you an apology.”

He heard Jane exhale deeply. “Yes, I believe you do.”

Drawing a deep breath, he walked forward to drop to one knee next to her. He was alone with Jane, and he could only pray she was not yet betrothed to that audacious little worm, Dunsford.