Sunshine for Christmas by Mary Jo Putney

Author:Mary Jo Putney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mary Jo Putney

The trail had been growing narrower and narrower, and finally Vanni pulled the horses to a halt and turned to speak to Elizabeth. She explained to her companion, “This is as close as a carriage can go. Vanni says the temple is a ten- or fifteen-minute walk along this path.”

Lord Randolph nodded agreeably and took the picnic basket in hand. The condition of the path explained why the site was seldom visited. It was narrow and irregular, not much more than a goat track, and had been washed out and repaired more than once. The mountain face rose sheer on the right, then dropped lethally away to the left. Elizabeth went first, keeping close to the rock face and being very careful where she put her feet.

She rounded the last bend in the trail, then stopped, enchanted. The path widened into a large ledge, with a steep wall on the right and a sheer drop on the left. Perhaps a hundred yards long and fifty wide, the site had soil rich enough to support velvety grass and delicate trees. As Vanni had promised, the view of Vesuvius was spectacular. But all that was simply a setting for the temple, which looked as if it had floated down on temporary loan from fairyland.

Behind her, Lord Randolph said admiringly, “Anyone who ever built a false ruin would give his left arm to have this instead. It’s the ultimate folly.”

The small shrine was built of white marble that held a hint of rose in its translucent depths. The back wall was mostly intact and elegant columns completed the front part of the structure. The roof was long gone and vines climbed the columns for an effect that was beautiful, wistful, and altogether romantic.

Elizabeth said, “Do you think we should invite Byron to visit? This deserves to be immortalized in poetry.”

“Never,” Lord Randolph said firmly as he set the picnic basket down. “If Byron wrote of it, the path would become so jammed with people coming to admire and languish that someone would surely fall down the mountain to his death, and it would be our fault. Much better to let it stay Vanni’s secret.”

The blackened remains of an old fire sheltered by a depression in the cliff proved that the site was not precisely a secret, but certainly it was seldom visited. The floor of the shrine was entirely covered with drifted leaves. Elizabeth knelt and carefully brushed them away, finding a charming mosaic of birds, flowers, and butterflies. “I won­der what god or goddess was worshiped here.”

“A gentle one, I think.”

Glancing up, she saw an odd, assessing look on Lord Randolph’s face. Inexplicably she shivered, wondering if there was really tension in the air, or just another example of her overactive imagination.

Seeing her shiver, he offered his hand to help her up. “In spite of the sunshine, in the shade it is still December.”

His hand was warm and strong as he lifted her effortlessly. Elizabeth released his clasp as soon as she was on her feet.

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