Page 14 of The Viscount’s Second Chance (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life)
"H ow hard can this be?” said Nora optimistically as she stood with her hands on her hips, surveying Ivy House’s library. They’d gotten a later start in the day than anticipated, but she could not find it within herself to regret it as much as she probably should have.
After their frantic coupling in the kitchens, she and Thomas had returned to her bedchamber where they grazed on the platter she’d prepared, taking turns popping morsels between one another’s lips. This had lasted about an hour or so before she could wait no more and had pounced on his beautiful, naked form like some sort of jungle cat. There, he’d brought her to another screaming, shuddering climax before finding and taking his pleasure in her body. His well-sculpted back now looked as if he’d lost a battle with a vindictive tomcat, but he’d assured her as he dressed that morning that he didn’t mind. The smug smile he’d shot her made her knees weak.
After washing and fixing her hair, his extra set of hands had been much appreciated as he assisted her (with some trial and error) in dressing in a navy-blue gown with lace-trimmed sleeves and a deeply scooped neckline. Strictly speaking, it was not appropriate mourning attire, but she knew Beth would forgive her and her wardrobe was running quite low at that point.
They’d departed her Townhouse early enough that there was no fear that they would be seen in a compromising situation. Nora had wanted to immediately begin her search of the library upon arrival, but Thomas begged for a brief opportunity to change his clothes. Her cheeks had burned when he said, as much as he enjoyed her scent all over him, he couldn’t very well be seen in public with his clothing as rumpled as it was. She drew the line at waiting for him to shave. “Besides,” she’d said, tickling the silver-and-black-stubble on his lean cheek; “I quite like how rugged you are.”
He very thoughtfully had a light meal of tea and pastries prepared for her while she waited. Nora couldn’t help but pace as she ate, her stomach flipping and soaring with the certainty that Beth’s next clue waited just down the hall.
Only a quarter-hour later, Thomas joined her. He’d donned fresh buckskin breeches, polished black Hessians, and a dark gray patterned waistcoat. The crisp white of his cravat stood in brilliant contrast to the midnight black of his well-fitted coat. Though he’d obeyed her and hadn’t scraped the stubble from his chiseled jaw, his dark hair was damp and brushed back from his face, the silver streaks at his temples lending him an air of sophisticated danger. Why did any man working on such little sleep have any right to look as delicious as he did?
As if reading her mind, he shot her a wolfish smile, grabbed a pastry for himself, and took her elbow to guide her to the library.
Now, together, they surveyed the room, eyes dancing from one piece of furniture to the other.
“Leave it to Beth to select two places with the most books,” Thomas grumbled goodnaturedly as he brushed the crumbs of his flaky pastry from his palms.
Nora cast him a sidelong glance.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Each of them started at a different end of the room. They scoured high and low, peering into glass bottles at delicate miniature warships and schooners assembled by Thomas’s grandfather. Thomas reached the shelves and spaces too high for Nora’s reach, even standing on a chair to examine the sword of a long ago admiral ancestor mounted above the mantle. Nora was thrilled to discover the enormous globe in the corner possessed a secret hinge so it could flip in half and offer up crystal decanters of brandy, whiskey, and other spirits.
“Did you know it did this?”
“Only since I was fourteen,” he replied with a smirk as he stood from where he’d crouched to examine a large ship’s compass mounted on a brass stand.
“Hellraiser.” She rolled her eyes and replaced the top of the globe.
An hour after they began their search, Thomas and Nora dropped side-by-side onto the sofa—the very one they’d had their passionate interlude on two days prior.
“Not so much as a scrap of a note,” Thomas sighed.
Nora tilted her head back to rest on the sofa. Then, she caught sight of the painting hung near the hearth. Her heart began to sing.
“Thomas…”
“Hm?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.
“Did you check the painting?”
He dropped his hand and followed her gaze.
“I did not….”
They stood as one. Nora clasped her hands beneath her chin as she watched Thomas gently lift the artwork and its heavy frame from the wall to reveal…nothing but a bright rectangle of navy papering where the pattern had been protected from the sun.
Nora sighed and then looked down at the painting he’d propped against his leg.
“Look!” she exclaimed and, as quickly and as carefully as she could, she detached a folded note from the backing. It was addressed to the two of them.
Thomas replaced the painting on the wall and pulled Nora into his lap so they could read it together.
Rather than a letter, they were greeted by a poem seven stanzas in length. He held Nora as she read it aloud:
Beneath the boughs of ancient oak,
The river’s fingers gently stroke
The stones where silent echoes dwell,
Of distant times they softly tell.
The verdant land, so lush, so wide,
Where whispered myths and legends hide,
With poppies bright and willows tall,
And daisies nodding at their call.
A royal house stands at your back,
Beyond the worn and winding track,
Where footsteps fade in paths of gold,
And trees their ageless secrets hold.
Within these bounds, a treasure sleeps,
Beneath the sky where London keeps,
A relic of an empire past,
Yet built with dreams designed to last.
A Roman arch, in time misplaced,
Yet here, by fate, so well embraced,
Its weathered stones, its steadfast grace,
A meeting point, a lover’s place.
The bond should mend, the heart should heal,
Where bending waters spin their wheel,
And love withstands, through tide and time,
Like marble warmed by hands divine.
So onward step, with hope anew,
The Lovers’ Arch, a dream come true,
Where past and present intertwine,
And hearts, like wine, age well with time.
There was a post-script that read only, “Do not lose heart the final two hundred paces. You are nearly there.” It was followed by Beth’s looping signature.
Thomas was smiling down at the parchment in her hands. There was a touch of sadness about his eyes.
“How beautiful,” Nora murmured and leaned her head against his, breathing in his scent and closing her eyes to just exist in that moment.
“I believe this is the final clue.”
“I do as well.” Nora lifted her head. “It’s in London, that much is clear; and it’s somewhere rife with nature. Flowers. Trees. A river.”
Thomas leaned back and smiled up confidently at her. “I know where it is.”
“You do? Where?”
He chuckled and ran his fingers lazily over her back. “Think about it.”
She emitted an exasperated sound. “Can’t you just tell me?” The possibility of finally seeing the arch made her positively buzz with excitement and here Thomas was playing a game with her.
“No, because you are intelligent. You’ll sort it out.”
Nora frowned down at the words. Nature. Paths. A royal house. Her frown deepened. “It couldn’t be Hyde Park,” she said incredulously. “Beth and I searched there several times over.”
Thomas beamed at her, confirming he shared the same belief. “The park is three-hundred-fifty acres in size; I’d be surprised if you two managed to explore every last nook and cranny.”
“But…it’s such a busy place. Surely someone has walked by it over the centuries. Why wouldn’t it have been recorded somewhere?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Thomas said with a shrug. “Maybe it was hidden, maybe it was overlooked, maybe people did not comprehend the significance of it and dismissed it as rubble. Either way, Beth discovered something and I think it’s past time we follow her lead.”
They took Thomas’s carriage to Hyde Park where they disembarked and decided to continue on foot. They veered from the well traversed Rotten Row and aimed their feet toward the Serpentine. The morning was pleasantly warm with golden sunlight dancing off the vibrant trees. The grass was still relatively green for the time of year. The increasing cloud cover indicated that at least one sprinkle of rain would arrive that day, but, until then, Thomas thanked their good fortune as they headed toward the heart of Hyde Park. With Nora on his arm and a mission in their souls, they walked side-by-side with purpose, occasionally consulting Beth’s rather impressive verses as they went until they eventually reached the bend in the body of water.
“Kensington Palace is that way,” Nora said, gesturing in the distance across the water. She spun on her heel back toward the way they came and shielded her eyes from the sun. It was everything he could do not to haul her into his arms all over again, as beautiful as she was standing there gilded by the warm light. “We’ve found the shores of the Serpentine and the royal house is now at our backs.” She consulted the poem again. “Do we walk off the path then, do you think?” Nora asked and looked at him with the most adorable furrow in her brow. He re-read the poem over her shoulder.
“That is my understanding.”
“There are only three-hundred-or-so acres in which we can get lost,” she said cheerfully. “I suppose we should get started.” She picked up her skirts and stomped off into the grass, heedless of what it might do to her gown.
“Wait up.” Thomas chuckled and rushed to follow. “Don’t turn your ankle. I’ll not be the one to carry you all the way back to the carriage.”
“Oh, la; you know you would.” She shot him a coy look over her shoulder. “You did carry me a mile when I cut my foot at the river.”
“You were only fifteen.”
“Are you saying your chivalry has an age limit?”
“Not where you’re concerned,” Thomas said as he caught her elbow. “I’d simply rather not destroy my back doing so.” He cut her off when he saw she was about to protest. “I’d do it, just as I would lay my life down for you, but I’d like to avoid the unpleasantness if at all possible, so just watch your step, if you please.”
They walked.
And walked.
They stopped occasionally to check their position relative to the Serpentine behind them, but it was difficult to tell where they were headed when they weren’t positive of their final destination.
“Can you believe Beth did this?” Thomas muttered as he turned to see how far they’d gone.
“I can, actually,” Nora said softly, tugging a long bit of grass free of her petticoat. “She was always so unbelievably resilient and determined.”
“You helped her feel that way, you know,” Thomas said, steadying her as she plucked a twig from elsewhere. Nora froze and stood straight.
“You give me too much credit.”
“You were never given enough,” he replied, shaking his head. “Beth became the truest version of herself around you, and I don’t believe Mother and I ever thanked you enough for that.” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “So, thank you, my love.”
“I hope you love me for more than just that,” she said, attempting to lighten the air.
“You know I do.” He was nearly undone by the dreamy look that came into her soulful eyes. How could he ever hope to convey to her how much she meant to him—how much she’d always meant to him? He vowed to find a way.
One hundred more paces and Nora let out a little yelp of pain.
“What happened?”
“A rock in my slipper,” she hissed. “These shoes were not made for traversing such terrain.”
“Leave it to you to wear impractical footwear.” He chuffed in response to Nora’s glare and helped her to sit atop a boulder so she might fish out the pebble.
“You know very well I’d no idea this would be how the day went when I dressed this morning.” She sighed and flung away the offending bit of earth. “How much further do you suppose it is?”
“Can’t be too much further—not if that last bit of writing was a hint at the distance. I’d say we’ve traveled close to two-hundred paces at this point.” Thomas crouched down to examine the sole of Nora’s foot despite her protests. Satisfied that there was no blood staining her stocking, he helped her to replace it…and caught sight of something odd.
Nora noticed the change in his posture. “What is it?” She glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing. “What do you see?”
Thomas pointed and pulled her to crouch lower with him. Once their eyes were level, he pointed out the harsh line of a carved block of stone just visible beyond the wide, gnarled trunk of an ancient oak. Nora’s heart began to pound furiously.
“Is that—do you think?”
Thomas nodded mutely. Taking her hand in his, they stood and approached the tree.
Both of them lost their breath as soon as they rounded the trunk and saw, tucked away in a copse of trees with fiery leaves and a bed of verdant grass, was the arch.
The Lovers’ Arch.