The chanting commenced immediately as Anthea appeared in the field. “Come to us, O Harvest Maiden. Protect us from the Lavender Lady. Come to us, O Harvest Maiden!”
Everything was as it had been the evening before, with the crowd gathered respectfully around the neck of wheat, in front of which the Harvest Maiden now stood awaiting her destiny. The wicker cage was in readiness nearby, and the reapers were prepared, their polished sickles shining in the blue moonlight. This time the deadly blades would not be thrown to form a circle in the ground but would be hurled directly at Corinna.
Anthea walked steadily toward the dreadful scene, and with each step, it seemed the chanting grew louder. The blue moon was now almost completely above the horizon; the moment it was, the Harvest Maiden would be sacrificed. Obed Dennis now kept pace at the Lavender Lady’s side, and Anthea bowed her head slightly so that her long dark hair cast a shadow where the locket should have been. The crowd parted for her to reach the edge of the inner circle, and as she did so, Obed Dennis suddenly outpaced her and again stood to bar her way.
A ringing silence ensued, as everyone expected her to submit to capture and imprisonment in the cage. Instead she walked around the startled innkeeper and continued toward Corinna. For a moment no one seemed to realize what was happening. They thought it was a misunderstanding, that she had not been properly prepared. Sir Erebus realized nothing, for he was too intent upon Corinna, fearing some last minute awareness that might prompt her to run for her life.
Using his preoccupation, Anthea quickened her pace toward her stepsister, just as Obed recovered from his confusion and raised the alarm. Anthea caught up her flowing skirts to run the final yards to Corinna; then she halted triumphantly and took the mistletoe from her bodice, holding it up for everyone to see.
There were horrified cries, and she was aware of the crowd falling back slightly, as if merely being close to golden bough that had obviously been stolen was anathema to them all. She was later to discover that it was the moment when most people began to realize they had been taken in by Sir Erebus’s silken words and persuasive practices.
Sir Erebus froze where he was, but his eyes flashed angrily. “Hand that to me,” he breathed, but she shook her head.
“Oh, no, for while I have the golden bough, and while I stand here, Persephone is safe from Hades. If Demeter is present the neck cannot be cut, and while it stands, Persephone cannot be taken. That is how it must be, Sir Erebus, and nothing you say or do can change that. And do not think that your disgusting rites can proceed in any case, for I am not wearing the locket. Without it around her neck, Persephone cannot be sacrificed.”
Her voice carried to the watching crowd, arousing a stir of whispers. A nerve twitched at Sir Erebus’s temple, and he glanced sharply around, evidently wondering why the faithful Abigail had not warned him something was wrong.
Anthea smiled. “You look in vain for your monstrous hare, Sir Erebus, for she has unwittingly taken laudanum—a dose of her own medicine, I fancy. The same goes for Sebbriz, who has taken the same sop. How little you really know your Greek myths, for they were far more vulnerable than you realized.” This last was said for the benefit of the onlookers, and it did not fall upon stony ground.
Sir Erebus’s thin lips curled with bitter fury. “I should have guessed that Chavanage was deceiving me!”
Jovian himself answered as he and Huw rode into the circle, pistols drawn and ready. “Yes, you should indeed, Lethe,” he shouted, and the uneasy crowd fell back still more.
Anthea saw that some people were already beginning to skulk away, but unfortunately the reapers were not among them. The sickles were still ready and waiting. Corinna had not moved, and she gazed ahead without knowing or seeing anything around her.
Sir Erebus looked at the full orb of the moon as it floated clear of the horizon to sail among the first stars. Anthea could see how his mind raced, and her breath caught as he whirled about to the reapers. “Kill the Harvest Maiden!” he cried. “Kill her now!”
“No!” Anthea screamed, and ran to stand in front of her stepsister. But the reapers were too far under Sir Erebus’s control to disobey him, and one by one they threw their deadly sickles.
Jovian fixed his gaze upon each one, and his face twisted with effort as he pitted his gifts against the flying weapons. One by one he halted their flight so they fell harmlessly to the stubble at Corinna’s feet. As the last sickle fell to the ground, something quite wonderful happened. The moon ceased to be blue and instead cast its true silvery glow once more. Gasps arose from the crowd of onlookers, the vast majority of whom still remained.
Huw grinned and drew his pistol, then waggled it at Sir Erebus. “Come on, tomen dali, to the cage with you,” he commanded.
Before Anthea could even wonder what the Welsh words meant, Jovian explained aloud. “That means dung heap.”
“How very suitable,” she replied, then went in consternation to embrace Corinna, who still remained in a trance.
Sir Erebus had no intention of bowing to a gardener’s command, even a gardener with a loaded pistol, but as Jovian fired a single shot that raised dust from the ground within an inch of his ungodly feet, Hades hastened to obey. His abominable rule over Cathness was at an end.
Huw took great delight in ordering Obed Dennis to lock the cage. As it happened, it was a mistake not to force the innkeeper into captivity as well, for it was an error of judgment they would later regret.
Now, however, Jovian stood in his stirrups to look around at the great crowd of local people. “Behold, an honest moon above and Sir Erebus Lethe in all his ridiculousness below. What price now his promises and lies? Go back to your homes, for you will see no sacrifice tonight or any other night. Our harvests do not need blood to ensure their bounty; they just need hard work and good weather, both of which Cathness can provide in plenty.”
For a moment no one moved, but then the exodus began, everyone deeply ashamed that they had taken part in such savage and primitive rituals. As Obed Dennis left with them, he did not share their shame, for he had as little conscience as Sir Erebus and meant to help his defeated master all he could.
Within minutes the field was empty, leaving only Anthea, Corinna, Jovian, and Huw. And Sir Erebus, of course, although within moments Huw had tied the cage to his horse and ridden away with it bumping and bouncing behind him. He was taking Hades to a dungeon beneath the castle, there to await arrest by men from the nearest army barracks.
Corinna remained in a trance until Jovian gave her some rosemary he had picked earlier in the castle’s kitchen garden, together with some lavender flowers he had taken as Anthea left his arms to commence her walk to the field. At last Persephone was liberated from Hades’ influence, and she stared around in consternation as she found herself in a moonlit field.
For a moment she was frightened, but then she saw Anthea. “Anthea! Where are we? What’s happened? I remember being lost in the lane trying to find my aunt’s house, but then ...”
Anthea hugged her tightly. “It’s a very long story, Corinna, and I will tell you when we reach the castle.”
“The castle?” Then Corinna noticed Jovian. “Your grace?”
He smiled. “Jovian will do, for after all this I feel I know you well enough to dispense with the formality of Miss Pranton.” His glance caught Anthea’s, then he added, “In fact I am bound to know you much better before long, for we are more closely associated than you know.”
“We are?” Corinna looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“We are half brother and sister,” he replied.
Corinna’s green eyes became very round. “We ... are?” Her gaze flew to Anthea for confirmation. “Is it really so?”
“Yes. You do not have an aunt called Abigail Wheatley, but you do have a brother called Jovian, who is surely the finest, most perfect man in all the world.” Anthea smiled at Jovian.
They returned to the castle, Corinna on her palfrey and Anthea riding before Jovian. Many lights were on at the castle, and the servants waiting uneasily in the great hall, unsure what would happen to them now the rites had been halted and exposed as false. Abigail Wheatley had escaped, having awoken and been able to turn herself into a hare in order to slip free of the ribbons with which Anthea had bound her. After releasing Sebbriz, she had escaped in her four-legged form and disappearing into the countryside, never to be seen in Cathness again. Sebbriz also decided it was wise to leave and slipped out of the castle kitchens while everyone else nervously awaited Jovian’s return.
Although they probably did not deserve his generosity, Jovian was prepared to let his staff keep their positions. He promised to forgive and forget, provided they were completely loyal to him in the future—and provided there was no more dabbling in dark things of any nature. If someone was to whisper so much as a charm to get rid of warts, he would know and dismissal would be instant. Everyone, including Cynthia and Phoebe, swore to abide by his terms.
It was as he finished addressing the servants that Lady Letitia came sleepily down the grand staircase. She paused in delight on seeing Corinna, all false thoughts of her having remained in London now vanished.
“My dear, you’ve been found!” she cried, and hastened to hug her. Then she drew back and surveyed the white robe and wheat crown. “Hmm. Well, I do not know that I care to discover what has been going on, but if you will just assure me that you are safe and well?”
Corinna laughed. “Oh, yes, Lady Letitia! I most certainly am.”
“Call me Aunt Letty, my dear, for your disappearance made me realize how very much part of the family you have become.
“What happened in the lane?” Lady Letitia asked then. “One moment you were there, the next you had vanished.”
“To be honest, Lady—I mean, Aunt Letty—I don’t know what happened to me. I was by the oak tree, feeling terribly ill, then suddenly I was dressed like this and standing in the middle of a moonlit wheat field.”
Jovian took charge of the conversation. “Anthea and I will explain everything, but I think we will be more comfortable in the library.” He turned to a footman hovering nervously nearby. “Some Turkish coffee, if you please, and if I detect so much as a sniff of that damned pomegranate juice, I will separate your head from the rest of you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, your grace.” The man scurried away as if wildfire lit his coattails.
* * *
Explanations went on into the small hours as they all sat in the library, and Lady Letitia and Corinna became more and more astonished as the amazing tale unfolded. No one in the castle was aware of it when Obed Dennis entered the castle and released Sir Erebus from the dungeon. Under cover of darkness—and the black traveling carriage—Hades and the innkeeper drove away from Cathness and escaped the dire punishment to which the law would otherwise have sentenced them.
The escapes were discovered soon enough, but without Abigail or Cerberus either, Jovian realized there was little point in sending for the army. Everyone in Cathness had been drawn into Sir Erebus’s web, so the army would have had to arrest every man, woman, and child, which was hardly sensible. Better to leave things to calm down, Jovian decided, and Anthea, Lady Letitia, and Corinna were in full agreement.
Sebbriz had seen to it that the unfortunate coachman, Longton, had been locked up in a stable since arriving at the castle, so the latter did not think much of Cathness Castle at all. In fact, he was impatient when Lady Letitia and Corinna delayed their return to London by several weeks.
Lady Letitia had resumed her great affair with Huw, and they planned to leave the country so they could be together without anyone questioning their vastly differing backgrounds. However, Lady Letitia was certain of one thing: wherever they went, it would not be the Amazon!
On the two ladies’ arrival back in Berkeley Square, the first person to call was none other than Viscount Heversham, who was agreeably surprised by the delight with which Corinna received him. Lady Letitia was soon busy with her matchmaking again, and her industry paid dividends.
There was no need for matchmaking between Anthea and Jovian, because it was on their account that Lady Letitia and Corinna had delayed their departure from Cathness. One warm and sunny day in late September, with the local population once again gathered to watch, the Duke of Chavanage and Lady Anthea Chloe Wintour became husband and wife in the beautiful parish church. What should have been a grand Society wedding in St. George’s, Hanover Square, or in the Mayfair house, was instead a country affair at which the only people of consequence, apart from the bride and groom, were Lady Letitia and Corinna.
It was a beautiful wedding, one which the Earl of Daneway would always wish he had been in England to see. The local people were very happy for their duke and his new duchess. The recent past might never have been, and all trace of Sir Erebus Lethe had been removed from the landscape, even Wycke Hall, which was pulled down brick by brick.
On their wedding night in the bed once occupied by Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Anthea and Jovian lay in each other’s arms watching the moon. It was a very ordinary moon, not even full, but it was very lovely. Anthea snuggled more deeply against her adored new husband. “I think that if I ever, ever hear that song again ...”
“What song?”
“Lavender Blue.”
“Ah,” he breathed, and kissed her neck, where her dark hair was warm and sensuous.
She closed her eyes and shivered deliciously. “If I ever hear it again, I shall be very uneasy indeed.”
He raised his head from kissing her. “Why?”
“Because it was when that wretched ditty suddenly came into my head from nowhere that it all began for me.”
“It’s only an old song,” he whispered, and leaned over her. “It occurs to me that there is another old tradition that I must attend to if all is to be well.”
“Old tradition?” She looked up at him.
He smiled. “That of making absolutely certain, beyond all shadow of doubt, that this marriage is properly consummated.”
“But we have already—twice.”
“I know, I know,” he replied teasingly, “but to be on the safe side ...” He bent his lips to hers, and she slipped her arms eagerly around him again.
The moon sailed serenely against the stars as the Duke of Chavanage and his bride made passionate love again. A gentle breeze whispered through the Scotch pines, and a faint echo carried through the night.
Lavender blue, dilly, dilly,
Lavender green.
When I am king, dilly, dilly,
You shall be queen...
For my dear friend Kelly Jerjutz
Copyright © 2003 by Sandra Heath
Originally published by Signet (ISBN 9780451208583)
Electronically published in 2016 by Belgrave House/Regency
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is
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