Free Marigold's Marriages by Sandra Heath Page B

and provide for us both!”
    She smiled. “Oh, Perry, how fierce you are, but there is no need, for I really want to marry Lord Avenbury.” The words slipped out so naturally that she hardly realized she’d said them. But it was the truth, she did want to marry Rowan. Heaven help her, she wanted it very much indeed.
    Perry was confused. “In spite of Aunt Alauda?”
    “Yes.”
    “Bysshe says—”
    “Perry, I don’t place great faith in Bysshe. With your dubious assistance, he attempts to raise devils,” she said, interrupting quickly in case he was about to mention the Avenbury curse, which she didn’t wish to discuss until she’d had a chance to speak to Rowan.
    Perry flushed. “It wasn’t a devil, it was Taranis,” he corrected.
    “Who or what is Taranis?”
    “The old Celtic god of thunder. Bysshe read about him in that Stukeley book he mentioned.”
    “Who is this Stukeley person? I’ve never heard of him.”
    “He was a famous historian. He—and Aubrey before him—researched and mapped in detail all the standing stones in the Salisbury Plain area, including the ones at Avenbury. They called them British druidic temples. Did you know there were standing stones at Avenbury?”
    “No, but go on. Why did you want to raise Taranis?”
    Perry colored a little. “Because there’s a cricket match this evening, and neither of us wants to play. We thought a good thunderstorm would do the trick. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter now, because all we managed to conjure was Sir Francis.”
    “I hardly think you conjured anything,” she replied firmly.
    “I swear it, Mama. We were telling the truth to Dr. Bethel when we said Sir Francis just appeared from nowhere. We didn’t bring him into the house ourselves, truly we didn’t. We made the demonic circle, lit the blue flames, and said the correct incantations, but all we got was this stupid mallard!” The boy looked daggers at the slumbering drake.
    “Oh, that can’t be possible! If you didn’t take him into the house, then he must have flown in through the window,” she declared.
    “If he did, he was very quiet about it. Ducks make a noise when they fly, but one second there was nothing, the next he was on the floor right in the middle of the circle. And he wasn’t in a very good mood, I can tell you. He certainly made a noise after that, quacking at the top of his odious lungs. We were so shocked that we forgot Bysshe’s other experiment, which suddenly burst into flames. Dr. Bethel came to see what was going on, and the rest you know.” Perry plucked at the daisies again. “I won’t be raising Celtic gods again, and that’s a fact.”
    Marigold was hard put to hide her mirth, for it was clear he and Bysshe really believed they had raised a demon duck!
    Perry cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Anyway, I’d prefer it if you forgot I told you, Mama. Do you promise?”
    “I, er, yes, I suppose so.”
    He gave her a quick smile. “Bysshe isn’t mad, you know, he’s very clever.”
    “He’s a menace,” she replied.
    “I’m just as bad, so you mustn’t blame him. Actually, he’s great fun to be with, and I like him very much.” He looked at her. “He does have Stukeley’s book. It’s called An Account of the Avenbury Curse. Mama, you do know about the curse, don’t you? Only, when Bysshe blurted it out, I thought it came as a complete shock to you.”
    “Perry, I’d rather not discuss—”
    He interrupted, looking intently at her. “Bysshe says it’s true, Mama.”
    “The writing of a book on a subject doesn’t make it true. You know what I think of superstition, Perry.”
    “Yes, you dismiss it as nonsense. But I believe in magic and the supernatural.”
    “Oh, Perry.”
    “And so does Bysshe. He’s always reading books about that sort of thing. He says that every Lord Avenbury is destined to die young because in 1534 the first lord deliberately broke up a sacred druidic rite at the stone circle that encloses the