A Rogue Meets a Scandalous Lady: Mackenzies, Book 11 by Ashley Jennifer

Author:Ashley, Jennifer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JA / AG Publishing
Published: 2019-07-08T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Sophie knew David had no wish to accompany them to the abbey ruins, and only Eleanor’s prodding had him on the path a half hour after she woke him.

He dressed in the tweeds he’d brought back from his London sojourn, cleaned and pressed by Mrs. Corcoran, but he’d quickly ruin the suit in the damp. He looked like a dandy trying to fit into the country and failing miserably.

Dr. Gaspar, in plain brown flannel and thick-soled boots, was prepared to be grimy by the end of the day. A professional archaeologist, Sophie mused as she studied him. She would meet more of them as she followed Uncle about the world.

David trudged along, burdened with Eleanor’s tripod, which he balanced over his shoulder, as well as two of her cases. Sophie carried a satchel with sandwiches Mrs. Corcoran had pressed on her, knowing Uncle often forgot to eat. She’d also brought pencil and paper—while Eleanor photographed, Sophie might do a sketch of the ruins. She didn’t consider her drawing skill up to much, but she enjoyed it.

“May I carry that for you?” Dr. Gaspar, at her side, reached for the satchel.

Sophie jumped. “No, no,” she said breathlessly. “You are kind, but it isn’t heavy.”

Dr. Gaspar looked embarrassed. “Oh. I beg your pardon. I did not mean to insult …”

Sophie smiled at him. “Never mind. You startled me, is all. I would be grateful for your help.”

Dr. Gaspar eagerly closed his fingers around the handle. The satchel was indeed light, and he overbalanced, expecting a greater weight. He danced a few steps and then righted himself, laughing a little.

Poor man. Like many of Uncle’s acquaintance, Dr. Gaspar wasn’t certain how to behave in company. She would have to put him at his ease.

She caught David’s eye on her, the man scowling like a thunderstorm. Upset Dr. Gaspar hadn’t offered to help him? Or upset at Sophie for some reason? Drat the man—he confused her so.

“Weston Abbey was founded in the eleventh century,” Uncle held forth as they walked. “The Augustinians built an enormous cloister and church, which was of course sacked by Henry the Eighth when he had his little disagreement with the Pope. It was one of the wealthiest, I have heard, and the king and his men took everything, leaving it to ruin. Wonderful place for a picnic.”

The abbey, which decorated the distant views from the vicarage, grew more imposing as they approached it. The stark ribs of the fallen church on the hill never failed to move Sophie—forlorn, forgotten beauty, a once proud place now silent and deserted. The golden stone against blue sky held stark and yet warm beauty. She could imagine the monks of centuries past toiling in the fields before returning to the golden-bricked cloisters for prayer and rest.

“They had a large scriptorium, Uncle tells me,” Sophie said to Dr. Gaspar as they trundled up the hill. “Records show they copied many books over the four hundred years they were here. All lost now.”

Dr. Gaspar halted, aghast at her words.

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