to his stone marker last week with a new bouquet she’d bought from the young flower girl hawking her wares outside the church. Then she sat on the stone bench.
What she wouldn’t have given to show him the fossil tooth.
“We should have talked more, Papa,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were corresponding with Erik?”
She suspected Erik had written to Papa about the discovery of the bones on his property. Then after her father had passed away, Erik had gone to Edinburgh and found Joseph. All of which had played a part in bringing Erik to Sommershorn Abbey…at the exact moment she had put on the ring, she’d reminded herself for days now.
The sunlight suddenly vanished briefly behind the clouds. She peered up at the sky as a voice behind her spoke. “Good day to you, Christine.”
Reverend Simms stood beside the bench. She rose. He was a big man with gray hair and a gentle smile, the only man of the cloth Aunt Sophie ever tolerated lecturing her on the evil of smoking tobacco and drinking bourbon. Smiling, she held out her hand. “I thought you were in Westchester.”
“I returned yesterday.” He suddenly lifted her hand into a blade of sunlight. The ring shone nearly blue andwarmed her finger. Raising his eyes to hers, he lifted his brows. “ ’Twas a gift,” she said. Only a half lie. Her students had given her the ring. “The markings are some form of Gaelic,” she offered to the silence, having already attempted to research the inscription.
“The words inscribed are Gaelic, the markings are Arthurian.” He lowered her hand. “Sadly, even today, legends, and superstitions still surround the saga of Arthur and Merlin.”
She brought her hand nearer to better study the ring. “You might know your seventh-century paganism. But not your metallurgy. This ring is not seventh century.”
“I knew your papa,” he said quietly. “The ring belonged to him.”
Startled, she met his penetrating glance. “I thought the ring belonged to Aunt Sophie.”
“Perhaps.” His forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Your papa did give it back to her shortly after you were born. He told me he bought it from an old Gypsy trader who promised that the ring would give him whatever he wanted most in the world. What have you wished for, Christine?”
She smoothed her velvet skirts with suddenly nervous hands and laughed around the tightness in her throat as if he were being silly.
“You have always been able to put distance between yourself and others when it suited you, Christine. I would be more inclined to believe you have charmed yourself with your wishful thinking. Whatever that may be.”
“Have you never believed in such nonsensical superstitions?”
He softened his tone as if he were speaking to a child. “Of course I have. For years when I was a child I never stepped on a crack for fear of breaking my mother’sback.”
She peered down at the braided silver band on her finger. Just looking at the ring filled her with a sense of purpose. And something akin to confusion.
After a moment, she unclenched her hand. “You married my parents to each other. Did you know my mother?”
“She was an actress,” he said. “Your father defied common sense and his family to marry her. It was what he thought he wanted more than anything until it came to his next big discovery.”
“Then in the end, the ring did not give him what he wanted most.”
“Your father never considered that he gave more of himself to his studies than to his marriage.”
Perhaps it is not enough just to want a thing,” she said. “You have to be willing to sacrifice everything else to have it.”
His brows lowered. “I have long since concluded that if someone believes something will happen, by their own actions, they can actually cause that event to occur, thus reinforcing their superstitions. No good ever comes from the belief in sorcery, Christine. Even if it is a figment of one’s imagination.”
And hadn’t
What she wouldn’t have given to show him the fossil tooth.
“We should have talked more, Papa,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were corresponding with Erik?”
She suspected Erik had written to Papa about the discovery of the bones on his property. Then after her father had passed away, Erik had gone to Edinburgh and found Joseph. All of which had played a part in bringing Erik to Sommershorn Abbey…at the exact moment she had put on the ring, she’d reminded herself for days now.
The sunlight suddenly vanished briefly behind the clouds. She peered up at the sky as a voice behind her spoke. “Good day to you, Christine.”
Reverend Simms stood beside the bench. She rose. He was a big man with gray hair and a gentle smile, the only man of the cloth Aunt Sophie ever tolerated lecturing her on the evil of smoking tobacco and drinking bourbon. Smiling, she held out her hand. “I thought you were in Westchester.”
“I returned yesterday.” He suddenly lifted her hand into a blade of sunlight. The ring shone nearly blue andwarmed her finger. Raising his eyes to hers, he lifted his brows. “ ’Twas a gift,” she said. Only a half lie. Her students had given her the ring. “The markings are some form of Gaelic,” she offered to the silence, having already attempted to research the inscription.
“The words inscribed are Gaelic, the markings are Arthurian.” He lowered her hand. “Sadly, even today, legends, and superstitions still surround the saga of Arthur and Merlin.”
She brought her hand nearer to better study the ring. “You might know your seventh-century paganism. But not your metallurgy. This ring is not seventh century.”
“I knew your papa,” he said quietly. “The ring belonged to him.”
Startled, she met his penetrating glance. “I thought the ring belonged to Aunt Sophie.”
“Perhaps.” His forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Your papa did give it back to her shortly after you were born. He told me he bought it from an old Gypsy trader who promised that the ring would give him whatever he wanted most in the world. What have you wished for, Christine?”
She smoothed her velvet skirts with suddenly nervous hands and laughed around the tightness in her throat as if he were being silly.
“You have always been able to put distance between yourself and others when it suited you, Christine. I would be more inclined to believe you have charmed yourself with your wishful thinking. Whatever that may be.”
“Have you never believed in such nonsensical superstitions?”
He softened his tone as if he were speaking to a child. “Of course I have. For years when I was a child I never stepped on a crack for fear of breaking my mother’sback.”
She peered down at the braided silver band on her finger. Just looking at the ring filled her with a sense of purpose. And something akin to confusion.
After a moment, she unclenched her hand. “You married my parents to each other. Did you know my mother?”
“She was an actress,” he said. “Your father defied common sense and his family to marry her. It was what he thought he wanted more than anything until it came to his next big discovery.”
“Then in the end, the ring did not give him what he wanted most.”
“Your father never considered that he gave more of himself to his studies than to his marriage.”
Perhaps it is not enough just to want a thing,” she said. “You have to be willing to sacrifice everything else to have it.”
His brows lowered. “I have long since concluded that if someone believes something will happen, by their own actions, they can actually cause that event to occur, thus reinforcing their superstitions. No good ever comes from the belief in sorcery, Christine. Even if it is a figment of one’s imagination.”
And hadn’t
Similar Books
