9. A Young Woman Considers Familial Relationships
CHAPTER 9
A YOUNG WOMAN CONSIDERS FAMILIAL RELATIONSHIPS
M eanwhile, on the Acropolis
Safely tucked away near the entrance of the Temple of Athena Nike, Diana watched the departing backside of her second cousin as he carefully negotiated his way to where his brother, her brother, and their cousin David had earlier been attempting to imitate the poses of the caryatids mounted on the porch of the Erechtheion. The younger men were no longer there, though, apparently having spent some time with her brother and the Fitzsimmonses at the Parthenon.
Now the trio was making their way to the Propylaea, and it looked as if Randy would be joining them.
When she returned her attention to the porch of the Erechtheion, she winced, especially at seeing the space where one was clearly missing. Lord Elgin had arranged to have it removed and shipped to London after his visit to the Acropolis decades earlier, declaring it and the marbles from one of the pediments, as well as several metopes and triglyphs, needed to be protected.
She wasn’t sure why it bothered her that he had done so. The statues, temples, and everything else on the flat rock had already suffered the ravages of wars and earthquakes, neglect and weather. Thieves had long ago removed anything of value from inside the remaining temples.
As for what she had been looking for, she would simply move her search to one of the other temples. Although there wasn’t much of the cella left in the Parthenon—a cache of munitions stored there by the Ottomans had exploded during a bombardment by the Venetians in 1687, destroying the roof, most of the walls, and twenty-eight columns—there were still a few walls left standing at the Erechtheion.
Stuffing the rolled vellum into a tubular leather carrying case, Diana went about gathering her other belongings into a worn leather satchel. Slipping the strap over her head until it rested on the opposite shoulder, she adjusted the bag on her hip as she made her way out of the temple.
If her brother intended to have the Fitzsimmonses as guests for dinner that evening, she would need to inform the cook at Vouros Mansion as soon as possible.
She paused to wave in the direction of the Parthenon, not expecting her older brother to be on the lookout for her. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw him wave in reply, but when he made no move to leave the Fitzsimmonses to join her, she negotiated her way over the rubble-strewn ground and through the columns of the Propylaea. Once down the marble steps, she followed the ancient path that continued down the side of the Acropolis until she was finally on one of Athen’s main roads.
Knowing there wouldn’t be time for the cook to make additional bread for that night’s meal, she stepped into a bakery. Pausing to inhale the familiar scents of yeast and baked breads—no matter the country, breads seemed to smell the same—she nodded to the proprietress and pointed to the two loaves left on the marble counter.
The old woman frowned, obviously not pleased at seeing Diana’s mode of dress. The local girls wore layered gowns over what appeared to be trousers, though. Perhaps she would have to include a frock in her satchel and pull it on before leaving the Acropolis the next day.
Holding up two fingers, the baker spoke in Greek. Relieved she could understand the price, Diana pulled the lepta coins from a pocket in her breeches, thanked her, and helped herself to the bread. Holding the loaves in the crook of her arm, she left the small shop and resumed her trek home along the main road.
Lined with houses in various states of repair—some were old while others were under construction—the street teamed with laborers and donkeys, vendors and carts, and children chasing other children. She managed to avoid a dray cart pulled by a runaway donkey, but she wasn’t able to sidestep a man who was walking backwards as he was shouting at someone.
She froze in place, determined not to give up ground despite the force with which the man hit her.
“Oh, pardon me,” he said, whirling around and stepping back, his arms akimbo. “Miss Henley.”
Diana’s eyes rounded. “You again,” she said with a huff.
Randy Forster stared down at her, his brows furrowing at hearing the rebuke in her voice. “Me again, yes,” he replied. “I was…” He paused and pointed off in the direction in which two young men were headed.
“Admonishing your brother and…” Her gaze darted to where he had been looking, but the boys were no longer visible.
“Cousin David,” he finished for her. “They, uh, grew hungry and are in search of sustenance.” He pointed to the bread she held. “As did you apparently.”
Annoyed by the implication she would be eating two loaves of bread by herself, Diana gave him a quelling glance. “These are for tonight’s dinner,” she stated. “ I had enough sense to bring a luncheon with me when I left the house this morning.”
From how he dipped his head, it was apparent Randy knew he had made a fool of himself. “Apologies. I of course did not think you capable of eating all of that by yourself,” he said lamely.
“Then you’d be surprised,” she said, continuing her walk toward Vakchou Street.
Randy fell into step next to her, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pantaloons so that the front skirts of his top coat were pushed aside. Had they been in London, his manner would have been considered far too casual for the beau monde. Here in Athens, he appeared to be the best dressed man on the street.
“Are you saying you eat a lot?” he asked, a smirk betraying his tease.
Realizing he wasn’t about to leave her side, Diana sighed. “When I am hungry, yes,” she replied. “I expect you do as well.” Her gaze darted to the side, and she quickly regarded his form from his broad shoulders to his dusty boots. For a moment, she wondered if the norm for an aristocrat had changed since she was last in London. Other than her own brothers, she had never seen a member of the ton sporting a physique that made him appear as if he did physical labor. There were those who participated in bare knuckle boxing and fencing, but when dressed in the typical uniform of a gentleman—shirt, cravat, waistcoat, pantaloons, and top coat—it wasn’t evident.
Apparently he noticed her perusal, for he suddenly pulled his hands from his pockets and allowed his arms to drop to his sides. “Depends on what I’m hungry for,” he said, arching a teasing brow.
Diana merely rolled her eyes. When she realized the other possible meaning of his comment a moment later, heat suffused her face. “Your words suggest you are a rake, Lord Forster,” she said indignantly. “Are you a libertine as well?”
Not expecting the question, Randy stopped in his tracks. “No,” he claimed, obviously offended. “I am not.” He dipped his head, his face displaying what looked like regret. “All this talk of food is making me a bit peckish, however.’”
For a moment, Diana thought to mention he could simply buy a koulouri from one of the costermongers who usually manned carts parked along the side of the main road. The rings of bread covered in sesame seeds were a popular food for the morning. A quick glance around had her realizing the carts had disappeared. Either the increased heat of early afternoon had sent most vendors indoors, or they had sold out of their stock earlier in the day.
Tearing an end off one of the loaves of bread, Diana offered it to him. “Will this do?”
Randy hesitated before accepting the bread. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” she replied, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. The movement dislodged the leather strap of the tubular container holding the rolled up rubbing, and it threatened to slide down her arm.
Randy was quick to capture the strap before it would have ended up in the crook of her elbow, possibly upsetting her hold on the loaves of bread. “I would be happy to carry this for you. And your bag,” he offered. Her look of uncertainty had him adding, “I shouldn’t wish you to think any worse of me than you already do.”
Diana gave a start, surprised he would say such a thing. “I don’t think that,” she claimed, although she knew her manner was at odds with her words. “I’m merely in a hurry is all.”
“I suppose with your brother intending to host guests this evening, the responsibility of hostessing falls on you,” Randy said. “I do hope your cook is accommodating.”
“As do I,” she replied, surprised he understood the situation.
Readjusting her hold on the bread, Diana allowed him to remove the strap from her arm. She watched as he easily hefted it onto his shoulder while he gripped the torn bread in the other hand.
“Give me the satchel, too,” he said, moving to her other side to pull the bag’s handle from her other shoulder to lift it over her head. Not expecting it to be so heavy, he nearly dropped it before hefting it onto his free shoulder. “Whatever do have in here?” he asked in awe. “Rocks?”
Left with only the two loaves of bread, Diana grinned at his surprise. “Tools,” she said. When she noted his arched brow, she added, “Brushes, mostly. A small shovel, a ledger, a couple of pens. A sketchbook and an ink bottle.”
“No rocks? No small piece of statuary pilfered from a temple?” he teased.
She gave him a quelling glance as they resumed walking. “I pilfered nothing, I assure you.”
He ate some of the bread and swallowed before asking, “Do you do this every day? Go up to the Acropolis, I mean.”
She shook her head. “Not every day. My brothers and I have only been in Athens a fortnight. It took a few days to do enough unpacking to set up the household,” she explained. “I still have more to do before it’s completely finished.”
“So... the temple I found you in... that’s your first... archaeological project here in Greece?”
She made an odd sound in her throat. “My second, actually. I spent a week in the Odeon of Herodes Atticus.”
When he turned to look back in the direction of the ancient Roman theatre—they had both passed it on their way from the Acropolis—Diana once again studied her companion’s body. Given their familial relationship, she expected Randy would bear more of a resemblance to her brothers in his facial features. At seeing him up close, she would never have guessed he was a cousin. All three young men were of similar heights and builds, although Michael was thinner. More lanky. He hadn’t yet caught up to his older brother’s athletic body but no doubt would given he would be working with the archaeologists on the Acropolis.
“Doing what?” he asked.
She blinked. “Apologies,” she replied, not understanding his query.
“What were you doing in the theatre?”
“Oh. Uh. Searching for inscriptions in the marble,” she stammered. She waved in the direction of an upcoming cross street. “This is where we must part, Lord Forster.”
Randy furrowed his brows as he took in the neighborhood of multi-story mansions, several similar in appearance to the one his family was letting for their time in Athens. “I’ll see you to your door,” he said. “And please, do call me Randy. We are cousins, after all,” he added.
“If you insist,” Diana replied before turning at the next corner. She continued down the quiet street, the small trees and fledgling foliage indicative of newer construction. She wasn’t surprised Randy stayed at her side, but she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know exactly where she lived. If he didn’t have his own agenda for what he intended to do whilst in Athens, she feared she might find him on her doorstep the next day, determined to join her again on the Acropolis. “How long will you and your family be in town?” she asked.
“A few months, I expect,” he replied. When she made her way along the path of pavers to the front door of a mansion, he followed behind her.
Diana suddenly turned around, not at all surprised to discover his gaze had been directed downward. “Are you watching my...?” She clamped her mouth shut as her face reddened with embarrassment.
“Watching where I’m going?” he finished for her, innocence tingeing his voice. “Of course. These pavers are a bit uneven. Not as bad as the marble up on the Acropolis, though.”
She was saved from having to say anything else when the butler opened the door.
Randy handed the straps of her satchel and the tube container to the servant before he tipped his top hat. “Thank you for an interesting day, Miss Diana,” he said.
“You’re welcome... Cousin Randy,” she replied. “I expect we’ll encounter one another again soon.”
“Oh, we will,” he replied. “Your brother invited me to dinner tonight.”
Before Diana could react, he bowed, turned, and took off down the pavers to the street.
Huffing, she entered Vouros Mansion and hurried to find the cook. Apparently there would be six for dinner that night.