Evelyn smiles in relief, seeing Jane seemingly content to let the boys have their fun. She chuckles and waves a hand dismissively at the men, "Let them be. I'd rather walk with you and see the village. I only got to glimpse it from the car on my way in. Besides, we can share all our lovely secrets if there aren't masculine ears about to be offended."

She stands and turns, looking over her shoulder at Jane impishly. "I can tell you all about my various, torrid love affairs!" she said saucily.

Evelyn laughed, putting the lie to her words. She hardly had time for dalliances with her schedule of practice and performance. Not that the opportunity hadn't arisen over the years. She had been approached fellow musicians a couple of times but, honestly... neither had piqued her interest. Their free time together had not extended beyond a couple of dinners and conversations between venues while traveling. They had been nice enough men, mind you. Talented and handsome and, of course, they had many things in common with Evelyn. But, they had not spoken to her heart and remained as mere acquaintances and friends.

"Now, you must tell me what you have been up to all this time!" Evelyn held out her elbow to Jane, as though to escort her to some grand ball.

Lady Jane leads Evelyn into the village, walking back the last half mile or so they had covered in the motor car upon their arrival, only two hours previously. As they walk along the gravel driveway, dusted wit snow, she points out the old chapel just visible through a stand of trees, looking rather forlorn in the gray afternoon light.

As she chats about her life in the countryside, Evelyn hears conflicting emotions her in her old school friend's voice. She is pleased with her position in society but misses the social whirl of the city and the fashion world. Her marriage to Brian is a bit iffy and Evelyn gets the distinct impression that it not a love match. Indeed, Jane seems quite smitten with Prospero. Though she is determined at the same time to push her old school friend and the handsome young novelist together as much as she can.

"He's an orphan, you know," she says as they cross the bridge into the village streets. "His family had extensive grounds that burned down in Surrey somewhere while he was traveling. He's quite wealthy."

In the village proper, Lady Jane comes a bit more alive as the locals bow and curtsy to her, offer her tastes and samples of their wares, wish her and her husband the best of the season, and so on. She is local celebrity, though bathing her husband's reflected light.

As they pass along the high street Lady Jane makes various purchases by word alone, arranging for food and drink to be sent to the Hall and many staples to be sent to the Alms house as well for the poor. At the end of the road where the shops come to an end, Jane does not turn around as Evelyn would expect, but continues along an unpaved path that leads to a farm.

Here she makes arrangements for a goose to be delivered on Christmas Eve, fresh killed and dressed. As she is talking with the farm wife about the details, the local woman mentions that her lads have seen some strangers in the woods the last two days.

"Probably the gypsies," says Lady Jane. "I've been to their camp. It's quite exciting. Would you like to go, Evelyn, dear? We've plenty of time and there's a wise woman there I wanted to talk to about a show for tomorrow night. I thought a séance might be just the thing to put a bit of spooky into the season." She mock shivers and laughs at the same time, though the farm wife makes the sign of the cross behind her back.

Evelyn laughs lightly, "Well, it's certainly not unheard of for there to be some ghostly Christmas shenanigans! After all, we do have Dickens to thank for some rather frightening holiday literature. Let's go see this wise woman of yours! I think it sounds like a marvelous adventure!"

She grins at Jane and links their elbows together as the two begin to walk, allowing her old friend to lead the way to the gypsy camp, "Speaking of the Ghost of Christmas Past, do you remember that one year that poor Murdoch broke his arm on Christmas Eve? I don't believe I had ever seen him quite so miserable! And, he was all excited to take a present to the girl he was dating at the time. Well, not that the injury stopped him, mind you. But he was not at all pleased about showing up on her family's doorstep in such a state!"

The two of them laughed and reminisced as they walked, chatting about school days and what had been happening in the years they had been apart, after their departure from the academy. Jane speaks of her time here and Evelyn regales her friend with tales of distant cities. After awhile, their conversation turns back to Prospero, as Jane does seem quite fond of the man.

"It's a shame that his home burned down," Evelyn sighs, feeling sympathy for the man. Though she has never suffered such a loss, one would have to be heartless indeed to not have some bit of empathy. "You said he is an orphan. Did he lose his family in that same fire?" 
This message was last edited by the player at 20:49, Thu 14 Jan 2021.

"Yes, he did lose both of his parents in the fire," said Jane in response to the question about Prospero. "He was overseas when it happened and did not even make it back in time for their funeral. I understand he does not visit the property any more, though it has been rebuilt. Very sad.

"I did not know him at that time. He is a University friend of Brian's. He has been to the Hall a few times since we were married and I find him rather romantic. But you must not tell him so," she quickly admonishes Evelyn. "My life with Brian may not be smooth sailing, but I am not looking for a love affair -- at least not yet!"

She giggled and blushed prettily.

"But I think he would be an ideal match for you," she added quickly. "Whether for the weekend, or for longer. A real gentleman. An artist, like you, and plenty of money to look after you both in your old age."

They had strolled almost a mile out of the village by now along a pretty bridal path that skirted well kept fields and prosperous looking farms, all under a thin blanket of snow that gave the scene a real Collier and Ives Christmas impression. The path started to slope up a hill and she could see a mass of thick woods ahead, but Jane turned aside at a gate at the edge of the woods and the Gypsy encampment came into view along the bank of a stream just where it ran cold and crisp under an ancient stone bridge.

A small pack of hungry looking dogs barked a warning and a handful of swarthy men in colorful clothing emerged from tents and wagons to see who had arrived. Lady Jane sauntered into their midst without any worry and one or two of the older men nodded in respect to her as the others went back inside their camp homes and out of the cold air, satisfied that no danger was present.

Lady Jane wished the remaining gypsies a cheery Happy Christmas and made her way directly to one of the decorated caravans that so many of the Romany folk use as their homes. This one was well made and brightly painted.

"Madame Eva!" Jane called as she reached the short steps that led up to the entrance. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

A young woman, dark with glittering eyes, stepped out and Jane fell back a step.

"Oh!" she said. "I thought this was Madame Eva's caravan."

"Granny's sick," the young woman spoke.

"I'm sorry to hear that, I do hope she feels better," Lady Jane spoke automatically out of courtesy, but a frown crossed her face.

"Should I cancel the séance we had arranged for tomorrow night, then?" she asked the young woman. "Is she that sick?"

"Granny says that I can do the reading for you," says the young woman stepping down to their level to talk to them. Evelyn could not help but note that she was exotically beautiful, even stunning, and that her voice had a deep, vibrant tone to it.

"My name's Lysette. I have the sight, same as Granny. Better than Granny. I'll do your reading for you."

The young woman spoke and carried herself with pride and confidence, but she could barely be out of her teenage years. Jane stepped back a pace from her and glanced over at Evelyn.

"What do you think, Bunny? Shall we ask Lysette to do the reading?"

"I can certainly understand why he would avoid the place. Too much heartache," Evelyn nods in sympathy. "Well, I'm glad that you and Brian invited him. It sounds like he could do with some warmth and cheer, this time of year." She can only imagine that it must be lonely for Prospero, not having a home or family to visit. Of course, that loss is most likely always felt, but probably more keenly around the holidays.

Grinning, she adds jokingly, "Fear not. I'll not say a thing to him. After all, that wouldn't help my cause if I'm going to snatch him up!"

When they reach the gypsy camp and learn of Granny's illness, Evelyn too offers words of sympathy and support. Evelyn tilts her head at Jane's question and nods, "I don't see why not. I have no issue with it, so long as she has her grandmother's blessing."

Evelyn is less concerned about the séance itself and more concerned about whether the girl truly has permission. Not that she disapproves of a young lady doing as she pleases. Quite the contrary. It bolsters her pride to think of a woman being daring. Rather, she just doesn't want to have to deal with the fallout should the young woman incur her grandmother's wrath. Still, she has no reason to doubt Lysette's words and is willing to take it all at face value.

Lysette laughed and clapped her hands, looking instantly five years younger. She went back inside her wagon and they could hear her speak excitedly to someone within.

"The lady said it is alright, Granny! I can do the reading. You can stay in bed."

An older woman's voice murmured something they didn't catch -- it may have been in another language. A moment later the girl stuck her head out of the curtained doorway to the wagon again, serious and grown up once more.

"What time shall I come to the Hall tomorrow, my Lady?" she asked politely

Lady Jane smiled encouragingly and said "I think if you come to the servant's entrance at eight o'clock, they'll give you something to eat in the kitchen and set you up in the library. We'll come on through after dinner -- say nine o'clock. That will do very nicely. Thank you."

On the way back to the Hall, Lady Jane pointed out the sweeping woods that mount the hills behind the Hall.

"It's beautiful country," she said, a bit wistfully, clearly counting her blessings despite the isolated life she was living, "Great riding and hunting. There's even an ancient stone standing on the top of that hill. They call it the Mootstone, though really it's two stones leaning against one another. These are the woods we'll be searching in for the Yule log tonight. I do hope it's fun. We've invited half the village to take part in the bonfire and the hunt. Some of them muttered about it being a bit pagan, but everyone's keen for the Cornish pasties and mince pies, not to mention the brandy and the spiced wine."

She danced a little jig in the lane.

"I'm so happy your here, dear Evelyn," she laughed. "It will be fun with you to share it.

"And Propsero. He might be fun to share, too," she added with a blush and a giggle.

Back at the Hall the men were nowhere to be seen. It was getting on for four o'clock and Jane suggested they forgo their afternoon tea and meet instead at five o'clock for a cocktail in the drawing room.

"They'll be serving our supper outside starting at six when we light the bonfires," she said. "It's a full moon tonight. Plenty of light to search in the woods afterwards for the logs. I'm going to lie down for an hour if that's alright with you, dear."

Lady Jane went upstairs then, leaving Evelyn with an hour to herself.

"Of course! You've been so busy with making sure that everything is ready. You deserve a nice nap. Now, go on and get some rest," Evelyn smiled warmly at her friend, delighted to see her in high spirits and looking forward to the festivities.

Once Jane disappeared off towards her room, Evelyn meandered around, looking at all the little knick-knacks that were stowed away on shelves and trying to decide what she would like to do with herself. The men were most likely still at the church, fawning over the artifacts. For a moment, she considered walking on over and having a look for herself. However, she decided against it. Instead, it would a nice topic of conversation for dinner.

Realizing that it had been awhile since she had last practiced her music, Evelyn decided to return to her room and gather her violin. But, she needed to find somewhere to play that wouldn't disturb anyone. She certainly didn't want to bother Jane when she was trying to sleep. She also didn't want to impose her music upon anyone else who wasn't in the mood. Goodness knows that the house servants had probably been working themselves silly getting the house ready for guests. It could well be that one of them may be taking a well earned rest, as well.

So, Evelyn quickly threw on her overcoat and pair of gloves to keep her hands warm, picked up the violin case, and trotted outside. The air was crisp and cold, her breath puffing before her face as she walked along, looking for an out of the way spot away from the manor. After a few minutes of wandering, she spotted a little, garden nook that Jane had undoubtedly set up for spring and summer. The flowerpots were currently empty, holding only gravel some sticks decorated with colorful ribbons that fluttered in the air. A birdbath sat nearby, offering fresh water to any avian visitors and there was a small table with chairs that would be a perfect place to enjoy a spot of tea.

Deciding that she was far enough away, Evelyn drew out her violin and set it under her chin. She sighed and closed her eyes, breathing in the sounds of nature and the calm of this winter's day. Laying the bow across the strings, she paused for a second, reaching into her own feelings... and decided on a softly joyful song. It was a tune that evoked thoughts of light dancing upon a lake, the wind in one's hair. It was a melody of freedom and blue skies, of birds on the wing and days lost to cloud gazing.

A smile graced her lips as she began to move with the song, her feet gliding along of their own accord. Her eyes were still closed as she danced in a small, happy circle, her fingers flying across strings and her bow singing out to the world.

The vibration of the strings faded and her eyes flickered open. With a sudden start and a thrill of horror, she realized that two swarthy faces were looking at her from the bushes that lined the outer perimeter of the garden. Not just dark and lean, but tattooed to be fierce beyond any sanity. She managed a small squeak, frozen in terror, and then a hearty "What ho! Such gorgeous sounds," from behind her snapped her head around to see Julian Prospero trotting along the gravel path and down the steps to the garden.

He took one look at her face and stopped, casting about for anyone in sight with a stern look on his face. She too looked back at the bushes, but the faces were gone, as if they had never been there.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked coming to her quickly across the snow-dusted lawn. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

He reached to put his arm around her, to pull her into a protective embrace if she would let him, all the while glaring around, looking for what had startled her.

"Did someone scare you?"

Evelyn does not stop Prospero from placing a protective arm around her. After being startled so, the contact feels comforting and grounding, helping to bring her back to a calmer state. She glances back towards the bushes, not sure whether she's relieved or further distressed by the fact that there is nothing there.

She takes a breath and shakes her head, giving a small laugh, "I... I thought I saw something over there." Evelyn points with her bow towards the shrubbery. "But, it was probably just a trick of the light and my imagination. I thought I saw two men, with these horrible tattoos.."

Evelyn clucked, gently scolding her herself, "It was probably just someone curious about my music and the leaves casting odd shadows on their faces."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:16, Tue 26 Jan 2021.

Prospero pulls her close against him and takes a small pistol from his coat pocket. She can feel his warmth, the fast beat of his heart and smell his cologne as he holds her. He glares about a moment or two holding the pistol down close at his side and then looks down at her face.

"The idea of you getting hurt!" he snarls. "I couldn't stand it. You're becoming very dear to me, Evelyn.

"And that music! Heavenly!"

Impulsively he kisses her. Full on her cold lips. If she retreats at all he will step back and make light of it, but if she responds, he takes her fully in a passionate embrace and kisses her deeply for long moments in the gathering gloom.

"What am I thinking?" he cries, breaking the embrace. "You must be freezing."

He takes off his overcoat and wraps her in it, picking up her violin case, urging her back towards the house where gaslights are starting to glimmer in the downstairs windows.

"I heard one of the servants mention there being gypsies in the woods," he says. "Perhaps they heard you play and came to watch. I know I could watch you for hours."

At first, Evelyn is slightly startled by Prospero's lips upon her own. There is a moment where her first reaction is to step away but... she doesn't. His arm around her is warm and strong, his lips soft and gentle. Her heart skips a beat as she realizes that she doesn't want this to end. So, she leans into his chest and returns his kiss, feeling far safer and protected in his embrace than she had moments ago.

The moments pass in sweet, blissful silence as the two kiss, a slight flurry of snow beginning to drift down upon them, peppering their clothes with tiny, fragile flakes. When Prospero finally steps back, worried over her health, Evelyn blushes and readily accepts his coat, even though she's not all that cold. She just enjoys the weight of it upon her shoulders and the fact that it smells like his cologne.

As the two begin to walk back towards the house, Evelyn laughs softly at his compliment, "I'm glad that you enjoy the music. I'd be more than happy to play for you, again."

"You're probably right and it was a gypsy," she grins and turns to face Prospero, walking backwards as she talks. "Jane and I went to see them, today. She has decided to have a séance! This should be quite entertaining. But..! I'm not sure if it was to be a surprise. You mustn't let Jane know that I said anything!"

"I've never been to a seance. Have you?" she asks, curious.

Prospero laughs with the relief of tension as Evelyn returns his affectionate embrace.

"Thank goodness!" he grins. "I overstepped my bounds there, Miss Northwood -- not that I'm sorry I did, but . . ." He trails off.

"I just don't want you to think poorly of me, that's all. I really do know better than to take advantage."

He walked with his arm around her, holding his coat across her shoulders as they left the garden and approached the house.

"I would love to hear you play again. Perhaps after the Yule log festivities this evening? If that suits you."

At the question about the seance, his brow furrowed and he looked doubtful.

"I've seen some very strange things in my time, my dear," he says rather enigmatically. "I'm sure it's all just for fun, but there are things best left undisturbed."

A footman took his coat and hers as they entered the Hall and Prospero reluctantly let her go. Inside it was warm and cozy with soft light and fires in every hearth. Lord Leatherby and the Professor were talking loudly in the drawing room, excited voices full of anticipation, and the solicitor came down the stairs as they entered the main foyer. He grinned at them both.

"I'd say his Lordship is pretty happy with his treasure," he says. "Professor Thorne is fairly certain it is genuine. Something quite remarkable, I gather. They're having a drink to celebrate. Care to join us?"

After his remark about knowing better than to take advantage, Evelyn gave him a sly grin and raised an eyebrow, "And who's to say that I'm not the one taking advantage of you, hmm?" She laughs, her expression full of warmth and mirth. Then, her expression turned more serious as she continued, "Joking aside, I am grateful that you arrived. I like to think that whatever I saw was just a trick of my imagination. But, were it not, I'd not relish the idea of trying to fend off an attacker with my fists and a violin bow. Regardless of what my brother may tell you, I don't hit that hard!" The corner of her lip quirked upward in a crooked grin, once again.

Her smile warmed as she paused and, almost shyly, admitted, "I've very much enjoyed our time together. It has been wonderful to share stories and jests with you. And, I'm hoping that when the festivities are done, here, that we could, perhaps, keep in touch?"

At his mention of strange things, Evelyn's ears perked with interest, "Oh, now, you can't just drop mysterious things like that and not explain! What have you seen?"

However, it was at this point that the two were interrupted by the solicitor. Evelyn smiled and said, "Wonderful! I'm glad that things seem to be going well for Brian. I would love to join you, but if you would excuse me for just a few moments? I should return my violin to my room."

OOC: If you want, you can just skip Evelyn going back to her room, unless something happens. She's literally just dropping the violin in the room and going back to join the men. And, I don't have anything else that she plans on doing there.

Evelyn ran up the secondary stairs to put her violin away and to take a moment in the glass to arrange her hair and check her lipstick. As she feared, smeared by the kiss -- but how exciting! Prospero had indicated that he would be very much in favor of seeing her again in London after their Christmas holiday. Indeed he had given every indication he was quite smitten with her. Her heart beat very quickly at the thought.

"Caught you!" the voice made her jump like a startled hare, but it was only Jane hanging on her bedroom door and grinning at her like a devil.

"I saw you smooching with him in the garden, you lucky girl," her hostess laughed as she came in unbidden -- it was after all her house. "He's quite a catch, you know. I shall do my best to keep you two together over the holiday. And I expect to invited to the wedding!"

They fell into their familiar school girl banter and Jane accompanied her downstairs for cocktails in the drawing room.

All of the gentlemen had returned from their inspection of the treasure Major McGregor had extracted from Egypt, and Professor Thorne was standing by the fireplace, expounding on what he had seen.

"Old Kingdom, I'd say at a quick glance. Fourth, maybe Fifth dynasty. Approximately three thousand five hundred years old. A rare find in such pristine condition. Too bad we couldn't explore it in situ. Nevertheless, you've got an historic find on you hands there, Leatherby. Nothing quite like it in my knowledge. It's not a king, or course. Not a pharaoh, that would have been much larger. But it seems to be a high priest of a sect I do not know.

"I quite expect that I, and many others, will spend the rest of our lives trying to decipher what you've brought to light here, young man." he addressed this to McGregor who is also beaming, practically counting his thousand pounds finder's fee.

The butler served up American style cocktails, Martinis and Manhattans. Glasses clinked and the fire roared. Outside soft snow swirled down out of the darkening sky.

"They're ready to start the bonfires, madam," intoned the butler as the clock in the hall tolled six.

"Excellent!" cried Lady Jane, very enthusiastic after two of the rather large Martinis. "Come on everyone. Get your coats and boots on. We're going outside to hunt for the Yule log. There's sausage rolls, and Cornish pasties and jam tarts to fill the tummy, and mulled wine and a barrel of beer as well. Half the village will be there. It will be wonderful fun. There's to be a big bonfire and then we'll break into teams and hunt through the woods for a prefect Yule log.

"It's the winter solstice -- very pagan. Come on!"

She pulled every one up on their feet and steered them towards the front door where the butler and the footman stood by with coats and hats and scarves and heavy boots. Outside several locals were indeed milling about in the back field, just beyond the gardens where Evelyn had been playing earlier, and a large bonfire had been built. Lady Jane insisted that Lord Brian be the one to set the fire, and then lead the group in several Christmas carols.

The beer and wine all on top of the cocktails worked their magic and the mood was very festive as the great fire roared into the snow laden skies. The food was rustic but well made and ample for all. After an hour of merry making, Lady Jane declared the hunt to be on.

Prospero had been by Evelyn's side since they came out, not too close to be embarrassing, but in her sight all evening. When the hunt began and groups began to fan out into the woods on the hillside, he took her arm and drew her close.

"Shall we stroll?" he suggested. "Find a quiet place to continue our . . .  conversation?"

Though she was already a touch warm from the fire and alcohol, Evelyn could still feel her cheeks blush at the suggestive hesitation in Prospero's tone. She slipped her arm through his, "That sounds like a marvelous idea!"

As they crunched along in the snow, headed for the seclusion of the woods, Evelyn caught herself chuckling softly at Jane's jest of marriage. Really! It's far too early for such a thought! Still... she glanced upwards at him, his profile handsome in the moonlight. He would make a fine husband. Certainly far better than the prospects that her parents had been throwing her way for years. Accountants and businessmen and solicitors... all quite respectable and all just about as exciting as dry toast. They lacked any kind of imagination! Prospero, though? There was a man who could think beyond money and practicality. A man she could share stories and music with, who would appreciate the arts.

Speaking of which...

"So, you have heard me play, but I have yet to read any of your works! Do you have a copy of anything with you?" she grinned up at him. "I do believe it's only fair that I get to partake of your art, as well!"

"Also," she laughed and let go of his arm, stepping away to gesture at the trees around them. "I have no idea what makes a good Yule log! Does it need to be a certain size? A certain kind of wood? I'm afraid that my family never did anything like this, when I was growing up. We always had A Very Proper Christmas."

Not that Evelyn expected the two of them to look very hard. In fact, she had a sneaking suspicion that their Yule tree would be an evergreen with plenty of sheltering branches to hide them and keep the snow off their heads while they 'conversed.'
This message was last edited by the player at 22:23, Mon 01 Feb 2021.

"I certainly hope Brian has the copies of my books that I sent him," laughs Prospero as he tucks Evelyn's arm under his and sets out up the hill towards the woods with the bonfire burning bright behind them. "Even if he doesn't I have the manuscript of the one that is going to publication this spring. It's very lurid. 'The Pyramid of Pishtaku' I call it. Set in the high mountains of Peru and based on a very real local legend of strange vampire creatures."

He shudders for a moment and she recalls vividly the odd vision she had of a forbidding pyramid high in the mountains when she first touched him on the train as he helped her alight.

"Colder than I thought," he tries the pass his shaking off as a shiver, but she knows it for what it is. He has been touched by real evil, strong enough to cast a psychic shadow over him.

But all that seems very far away here in England on a romantic snowy evening with a handsome man holding her close. They snuggle together and make their way up the well-worn path through the woods. Prospero has a pocket flashlight and other electric torches and oil lanterns glow among the trees as the villagers search eagerly for a suitable Yule log.

"I think it must be of a good size," replies Prospero to her question about what qualifies as an exceptional Yule log. "Something that will burn all night long. A hardwood, oak preferably, I would imagine given the association of mistletoe with the season, well dried but no rot."

He actually shines his light around looking on the ground and for a moment she worries that this won't be the evening she had been hoping for. But that doesn't last for long. His torch lights up a gap between a snow-covered pine tree and a holly and he pulls her into concealment from any passers-by on the trail and kisses her again. For a long time. His fingers trace her cheeks and stroke her hair. He buries his face in the hollow of her neck and breathes her in even as he whispers sweet endearments in her ear.

His body is hard and lean against hers and even through their winter coats she can feel his manhood stir and swell against her. He sighs deeply and pulls back a little from her, whispering in the secret cave of her falling hair.

"You are a most unlooked-for joy, my dear Evelyn," he murmurs. "I thought I was too old, too much a bachelor to feel like this, but you awaken in me a younger man -- a Lothario, it would seem. But I am determined not to press you or to take advantage of the romance of the moment.

"Walk with me while I cool my ardor. There is a standing stone at the top of this hill and it is the night of the winter solstice. There may be traces of magic in the air, and we can talk of what may be."

He breaks away from her then, but holds out his hand to lead her further up the hill.

Prospero's shiver and thoughts of evil quickly evaporate under soft kisses and caresses. Evelyn returns his affections with equal enthusiasm, her hand drifting along his ear and down his jawline as she kisses his warm lips. He tastes of jam and mulled wine. Her heart beats quickly, warmth blossoming in her belly as she happily leans into his embrace, enjoying the feeling of his breath tickling her neck as he speaks.

"Honestly, this is as much of a surprise for me," Evelyn chuckles warmly, turning her head so that she can place a kiss upon his cheek. "I've spent so much of my life married to my career... I had forgotten this feeling. And, now that you have made me remember, Julian, I want nothing more than to continue to spend my time with you."

Julian. She squeezes him closer, nuzzling against him. She likes saying his name. It rolls nicely off of her tongue and brings a thrill to her heart.

She sighs and smiles as he steps away, disappointed but also understanding. There is a proper way to court and it would not do for the two of them to give in to their desires just yet. Especially not out here in the open, in the snow. Taking his hand, she steps out from the sheltering foliage and walks alongside him as he leads the way up the hill.

"A standing stone? Here? Well, that is unexpected!" Evelyn chats as they walk, her hand still clasped in his. She pauses and tilts her head, thinking, "I must admit that I don't remember much about them. Oh, I am perfectly sure that my professors at the academy spoke of them in some class or the other. But, I would be lying if I said that I retained any of that knowledge. I seem to recall them having something to do with druids...?"

As they stroll up the hill, hand in hand, Prospero suddenly shines his flashlight on a movement in the undergrowth. An old woman holds up gnarled hands to shield her eyes.

"Don't shoot me, young sir," she calls in a frail voice thick with a West-country accent. "I'm just Old Meg. No harm in me."

She moves sideways in the brush, but his light bean follows her.

"Lovely night for a stroll, my dears, but don't go up to the stone. There's some foreign devils up there casting a spell. Dangerous spell. You mark my words."

Prospero glances in the direction of the hill top and that instant of distraction, Old Meg slides behind a holly tree and is lost from sight.

"Damn!" cries Prospero as he shines his light about to no avail.

"Shall we go on up to see what she's talking about? Or not risk it?" he asks Evelyn.

Evelyn looks up towards the top of the hill, her brow furrowing as she considers. On any other day, she would've scoffed at the old woman and trudged right on up to the top of that hill, confident that it was all naught but poppycock. However, such strange things had been happening recently. The odd vision she had when she first touched Prospero. The tattooed men that she saw in the bushes. Then there was Prospero's shiver. As much as he may have wanted to hide it, she saw it for what it was. And then there was the séance that Jane had planned.

She hums thoughtfully before looking to her escort, "Perhaps... we should not test fate, this evening." Evelyn smiled and chuckled, shaking her head, "There's probably nothing at all up there but some gypsies enjoying a night under the stars. But, it may behoove us to err on the side of caution."

Evelyn squeezes his hand and leans against his side, "Besides, we can talk anywhere!"

Prospero smiles warmly at her and takes her arm.

"Yes, we can, my dear Evelyn. And I've much to say."

He guides her down the path, back towards the bonfire, still burning merrily in the meadow behind the Hall. As they descend the hill, they hear again the calls of the hunters, some of whom are now lugging large logs back to be judged. Again, he finds hidden nooks between evergreens to 'talk' with her, and they are both brimming with energy by the time they rejoin the festivities.

Only once does she catch him casting a wistful glance back up the hill, and she understands that without her, he would have been up there to spy on what was happening in an instant.

When Evelyn spies his gaze turning back to the hill, she smiles and gives him a small shove, "Go on. I know you're dying of curiosity."

Truth be told, Evelyn doubts her own reasoning for making her initial decision. It's all so far-fetched. Surely, she's being utterly ridiculous! Certainly, she believed in ghosts and ghoulies when she was a child, but she is a grown woman, now. She knows that these things don't exist. There is nothing more dangerous in those woods than perhaps a drunken reveler or maybe some boar.

Though, an enraged boar could be a quite real danger. Her brow furrows slightly as she tries to recall if they are nocturnal creatures. She seems to think that they are active during the day, but she's not positive. Inwardly, she scoffs at herself for even worrying about that! Surely, with all the people stomping around in the woods, tonight, any wild animals would be scared off, anyway.

Prospero grinned at her, but before he could take his leave, Lady Jane approached with two hot mugs of cider.

"There you are!" she called. "I wondered if I'd see you too again this evening." She winked at Evelyn.

"But you can't have all the fun to yourselves, you know. Come and help Brian pick the best logs. He hasn't a clue, and nor do I."

She laughed merrily and it was clear she'd been sipping at the strong cider while they'd been finding quiet time in the evergreens.

Prospero shrugged and fell in with their hostess willingly so that he walked into the light of the bonfire with both ladies on his arms. Lady Jane, gushy and giggly, snuggled very close to him on the other side from Evelyn and she felt a pang of jealousy. Though he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

"What ho, Leatherby!" Prospero called as they approached their host, also drinking cider and staring glumly at a pile of logs scattered about on the snow.

"Prospero! Just the fellow. Help me out here, will you. Got to pick a winner. And I must confess, they're all just bloody great lumps of wood to me." If he noticed or cared that his friend was so close to his wife, he paid no attention, turning away to kick at one of the logs. "This one's a honker, at least. Largest of the lot."

Prospero disentangled himself from the ladies and moved forward to inspect the logs.

"Yes. It's pretty big alright, but there's a streak of rot right through it. Burn through in a few hours, I'm afraid." He played the light of his pocket torch over the log in question. Then moved on to inspect and catalog the others.

"This one's pine. Too soft. Yew here, that's a sacred tree and bears a poisonous berry. Wouldn't want to risk it in the house overnight. Ash. Too soft again. But these two. They're both oak and good dry wood. Much of a size, so it's a bit of a toss-up which one to pick.

"What do you think, Evelyn? Which one shall burn the Hall and and which one shall we send to the Alms house?"

OOC: Post as you will

Cries of joy and groans of disappointment heralded Evelyn's and Prospero's decision, but it was clearly fair, and the disqualified logs were tossed on the bonfire with great shouts of raucous enjoyment. It looked as if the party would be going on for some time.

Just as the bonfire flared up as a log was tossed on, a sudden flash followed by a loud bang came from the hilltop beyond the meadow, where the standing stone was located.

Many of the villagers made surreptitious gestures to ward of the evil eye or crossed themselves, and everyone stopped to look up the hill.

"Lightning!" declared Lord Leatherby, more to calm the nervous than through any real conviction. There had been no sign of a storm, only light snow drifting down all evening.

"I'll go and see," said Prospero. "One of your tenants, Old Meg, she called herself, said that there were some strangers doing something odd up at the stone. Maybe they had fireworks with them."

He took out his torch and Evelyn noticed him pat his pocket where the revolver was stored.

"I'll go with you," said Brian. "Machin. Gilly. You come too and bring a dog or two." He called to his groundskeeper and stable boy.

"Old Meg is a bit of a Weird Sister," he said quietly to his guests. "If she's involved, the village will be full of rumors of black magic by morning. Best to stamp them out now."

Evelyn chuckles and moves over to inspect the two logs that Prospero has chosen. Unfortunately, she's much in the same boat as Brian - they are but nearly identical logs. Were it not for her companion's expertise, she'd be lost in narrowing down the options. Thus, is nothing more than whimsy that drives her choice. Pursing her lips in thought, she peers briefly at the two until a rather dramatically swirled knot catches her eye. It's quite possible that it once had a branch, there, that broke off and the bark healed over it, creating the lovely pattern.

"I believe this one should go to the Hall," she bends down and pats the wood, making her choice.

Caught up in the revelry, Evelyn laughs in response to the various exclamations that arise after her decision. Any disappointment that anyone may have felt after their log lost is soon forgotten in the wake of a cheerful fire, more drink, and good company. So, she is just as startled as anyone else when the lightning strikes.

Her hand flies to her chest, a small gasp of surprise escaping her lips. Her heart flutters for a moment, and she takes a couple of breaths to steady herself. She says nothing as the men begin to rally for an investigation. She knows that it was most likely naught but lightning. She had witnessed something similar, once, when crossing the channel between England and France. It was nothing other than an odd, natural phenomenon. However, she can't quite tamp down a feeling of dread that begins to build in the pit of her stomach.

Stupid! Oh, Evelyn, you are being downright daft! she chides herself silently. But, that doesn't stop her from approaching Prospero and laying a hand on his forearm. Aloud, she says, "Be careful."

As the men set out into the softly falling snow to see what might have caused the tremendous flash and bang near the Mootstone at the top of the hill, fireworks, or lightning, or something else altogether, Lady Jane snuggled close with Evelyn by the bonfire, sipping her mulled cider. The villagers too stood around the fire and seemed to be enjoying the last of the feast that the Hall had laid on for them. One by one and in family groups they began to take their leave and stopped to thank Lady Jane very politely as they did so.

Jane introduced a few of the prominent locals to Evelyn.

Duncan McWatt was a doctor with a practice in town and also in London. He specialized in cancer but functioned as the GP for the locals as well with surgery hours twice a week. He was in his forties, genial, and well-mannered.

Morris Dobbs was the vicar at St. Peter's in the village. A small fussy man in his sixties who fiddled with his glasses and spoke with a vaguely put-on posh accent.

Lady Jane indicated that both the vicar and the doctor would be attending Christmas Day at the Hall as they had no family to spend it with. They both wished Lady Jane and Evelyn a good night and made their way along the gravel driveway back to the main road and the village beyond.

By now the fire was dying down and the voices of the men left behind getting slurred with drink.

"Let's leave them to their booze, shall we?" suggested Lady Jane, leading Evelyn back into the house where another roaring fire, this time contained and well attended, waited for them in the drawing-room along with a pitcher of hot cocoa and several cups set on the sideboard. The grandfather clock in the front hall boomed out eleven strikes as they settled by the fire.

"We really are very well looked after," said Lady Jane lifting her cup in evidence, "but I do find it very boring here on my own with only Brian for company. I envy you your life of adventure. Traveling, new towns every week during the season. Romances on the road -- oh don't raise your eyebrows at me. I'm sure you've kissed a fellow or two along the way. You certainly took Mr. Prospero under your wing. Not that I blame you. He's dreamy."

She smiles to herself and finishes her hot cocoa.

"I'm off to bed, darling. Breakfast at eight o'clock. We'll go shooting tomorrow. I have a lovely new gun Brian gave me. I expect the men will all be busy with their dreadful grave robbing treasures, but I'm hoping that Julian will join us.

"Sleep tight. If you need anything, ring your bell. It may take a while but someone will come to help you."

She yawns and stretches like a cat, then makes her way upstairs. The clock tolls the quarter-hour.

"Good night. Sleep well!" Evelyn called after Jane. She yawned and leaned back in her chair, finding that she, too, was tired. She sat for a few moments, considering what to do with herself before she got up and made her way to her room.

Once back in her quarters, Evelyn set about getting ready for bed. She shucked out of her dress and slipped into her nightgown before sitting down at the vanity to remove her make-up. As she went about this ordinary task, she found her mind wandering back to the hill, the lightning, and the men out there in the dark. She frowned at herself in the mirror, worried. With a sigh, she stood and moved to the window to look out into the night. Of course, from here, she couldn't see anything. The world beyond the lamps in front of the manor was enshrouded in darkness that her eyes could not penetrate.

Her fingers idly fidgeted with a bit of ribbon on the front of her gown. She considered, just for a moment, getting dressed and going back out. But... no. That would be foolish. Traipsing around in the woods, in the dark, when there are armed men primed for trouble would most likely just result in her getting shot. And, that would not make for a pleasant holiday for anyone. Memorable, yes. Pleasant, no.

"And, if I lived, Murdoch would never let me forget my folly," Evelyn snorted quietly to herself. Oh, her brother loved her. She knew that he did, just as she loved him. But, he had never quite approved of her more adventurous disposition.

Thus, resigned to her fate of remaining in the house, she decides to lay down and try to sleep. She settles into the quite comfortable bed and pulls the covers up under her chin. It is then, snuggled down into the softness, that Evelyn realizes that all the alcohol and food have made her so very, very tired. Though she wants to stay awake and listen for Julian's return, it's just too difficult to keep her eyes open. And, she drifts to sleep...