19. A Rooftop Rendezvous
CHAPTER 19
A ROOFTOP RENDEZVOUS
A half hour later
Determined to learn what had happened between David and Marcus earlier that day as well as to ask Diana if she might join his family on their trip to Cape Sounion, Randy quickened his steps as twilight descended over Athens. At the butler’s suggestion, he carried a lantern, but he hadn’t lit it, insisting he would reach the Henley residence well before dark.
When he turned onto Vakchou Street, he was relieved to see light in several windows of Vouros Mansion. The butler opened the door before he had a chance to lift the owl-shaped bronze door knocker.
“Lord Forster to see Mr. Marcus Henley,” he said, not sure if the servant would recognize him.
“Mr. Henley is not in residence, my lord,” Kyknos said in stilted English.
Giving a start, Randy glanced back toward the street. “Has he been home? Since this morning?” He dared a glance beyond the vestibule, half-expecting to see the young man either deep in his cups or in despair.
Instead he saw a number of crates stacked up in what he thought was the ground floor parlor, but there were far fewer than there had been the night before when he had come for dinner.
Someone had obviously been unpacking.
Diana, no doubt.
He couldn’t imagine Marcus helping to set up the household in anticipation of their parents’ arrival from Rome.
Kyknos shook his head. “I believe he has accepted a dinner invitation in town, my lord.”
Randy remembered Marcus, David, and the Fitzsimmonses were to have dinner at a taverna , but he had expected they would have been done eating and home by now. Perhaps they had all gone to the Fitzsimmons’ hotel. “Might I be allowed to wait for him?” he asked. He remembered the table and chairs on the roof and added, “Up on the roof? It appears to be a capital night for stargazing.” With any luck, there would be more meteor showers.
Stepping aside, the butler waved to the curved staircase. “I will inform Mr. Henley you are there when he returns.”
Randy nodded and set the lantern in the corner of the vestibule. “I’ll find my way up,” he said, heading for the stairs.
He was halfway up to the top when he realized he hadn’t seen Diana upon his arrival. Was she with her brother? Or in her bedchamber?
A frisson of pleasure skittered under his skin at the thought he might see her again. Their day at the Erechtheion hadn’t resulted in any finds of note, but his optimism had tempered her growing frustration—at least for a time. When she snapped at him for a comment he meant as a light-hearted tease, he had merely dipped his head and given her a moment to recover.
She had taken a deep breath and apologized, of course, but he knew not to attempt to mock her. The last thing he wanted to happen was to be evicted from her dig site and be told never to return.
He had been tempted to kiss her on the forehead, though. He had seen his father placate his mother with such a move more times than he could remember. Usually the kisses were enough. When it seemed they wouldn’t be, Henry Forster took further steps, including once when he simply lifted his wife over his shoulder, stomped up the stairs while ignoring her pleas of “put me down” as her fists pummeled his back, and did who-knew-what to her after the door to their master bedchamber slammed shut.
Randy expected his parents wouldn’t be speaking to one another for a week after that incident, but his mother had been especially happy during dinner that night, her color rather high.
Come to think of it, his father’s mood had been rather jovial that night, too.
He wondered how Diana would have reacted if he had kissed her. Would she have slapped him? Been incensed he would do such a thing in an ancient Greek temple? Or would she act as if nothing had happened, returning to her search whilst essentially ignoring him?
There was a third alternative.
He dared not think of it, though, for he didn’t wish to suffer with an arousal whilst he waited for Marcus’ return.
As he reached the final flight of stairs, it dawned on him that Diana Henley was a bit of a grouch.
No wonder she didn’t appreciate his incessantly good moods, especially when he was determined to lighten hers. Was there anything he could do—short of tossing her over his shoulders and doing who-knew-what to her after he had her in her bedchamber—to make her happy?
He was thinking of asking his aunt for suggestions when he emerged onto the roof and quietly shut the door.
As he expected, the deepening night sky displayed the band of stars making up the Milky Way. Even before he started to make his way to one of the chairs, a shooting star streaked across the sky.
The inhalation of breath he heard was not his own.
Awareness of her had his body responding before he even realized Diana was there, lying prone on the pallet.
He didn’t say a word as he lowered himself to lie next to her, settling so his arms were held atop his chest much like hers were. Although he itched to touch her, he was determined to keep his hands to himself. “How many have I missed?” he asked in a whisper.
“Only two,” she replied. “But it’s rather early.” She turned her head in his direction. “What are you doing here?”
He turned his head to face her. “I wished to speak with Marcus. Discover what happened in the caves today,” he said quietly. “Have you spoken with him?”
She sighed. “He sent a note saying he would be joining the Fitzsimmonses for dinner. At a taverna , I think is what he meant to write. His handwriting is shite.”
Randy struggled to hold in a snort at hearing her curse. “He did not invite you to join them?”
When she didn’t answer, he sobered. “Had I known, I would have invited you for dinner with us at Engels Mansion. Although it was more of a supper really. Nothing formal.”
Diana had already turned her head so she could watch the black sky above. “I did not mind.”
“David went with them,” he murmured, lifting a finger when a streak of light speared the sky to the east. “He hadn’t returned to the house before I left, though. He and my aunt and uncle and Tom spent the day with Marcus and the Fitzsimmonses at the caves.”
She glanced in his direction before she asked, “Did they happen to mention if they paid witness to a duel?”
Randy gave a start and chuckled. “I asked the very same question,” he claimed. “I was assured there was not, nor would there be a duel,” he added. “I also came tonight to ask if you might like to join us the day after tomorrow. We’re going to Cape Sounion to see the Temple of Poseidon.”
Diana inhaled softly. “Your family?”
“The five of us. Uncle Will said he would see to finding a town coach to accommodate six. We’ll have to spend the night, of course, but you and Barbara could share?—”
“I should like to join you, of course,” she answered, before he could say more. “I’ll bring my sketch pad and paints.”
“You paint?” he asked in surprise.
She tittered. “Of course.”
Randy blinked, the musical giggle the first time he had heard her express humor out loud. He was also a bit taken aback by the idea of her painting. He wasn’t sure why he thought her so different from any of the young ladies he had met in the capital. Well, none of them wore breeches or spent their days on archaeological digs, but she was a viscount’s daughter. “I suppose you have other talents as well?”
Her scoff was loud in the dark. “I can draw, I can speak and read French, Latin, and Greek, and I can dance. I cannot play piano-forté, however.”
“Oh! Such a failure,” he teased, one of his fists striking his chest to emphasize his mock disappointment. He quickly sobered. “I am sorry I vexed you earlier today.” He turned to regard her with a crinkled brow. “I should not have teased you. Nor pressed the issue of your reason for your search.”
She turned to face him. “I am sorry for how I reacted.”
“You were merely frustrated,” he murmured.
“A situation that seems to occur far too frequently of late. I don’t know why I’m so impatient. My father told me he knows of archaeologists who spend their entire lives searching for clues from the past and they find nothing .”
Before she finished the comment, another streak of light briefly lit the sky. After her inhalation of breath had subsided, she added, “I think my father’s successes have spoiled me. He has uncovered so many mosaics over the years. One after another, simply by digging and brushing away layers of dirt.”
“Well, determining the location of the Greco-Roman quarter near Girgenti ensured he would find those floors,” Randy reasoned. “Isn’t that where all the residences were located?” When she didn’t answer right away, he turned to discover she was no longer watching the sky. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed. “My father didn’t find the Greco-Roman quarter,” she murmured.
Randy lifted himself onto an elbow. “If not him, then?—?”
“Lord Darius Jones did. The Duke of Westhaven’s brother,” she explained. “He and my father excavated the site, but it was Lord Darius who knew of its location.”
Randy didn’t know why she thought it important that he know there was another archaeologist involved. “Your father still made all those discoveries, though,” he reasoned.
“True,” she agreed. “Mother located a site where there was a mosaic. She wasn’t even looking for it, which had my father most vexed. Proud of her, though.”
“Was she wearing her spectacles?” he teased, immediately regretting the query when she didn’t share in his humor.
“I’m not sure,” she finally said.
He furrowed his brows in concern, wondering why she seemed so sullen. The meteors continued to put on a show, the shooting stars arcing across the sky every minute or so.
“Do you fear you may never find what you are looking for?” he asked gently.
She gave a start. “Proof of Pausanias?” she countered, disgust sounding in her voice.
Randy stared at her in disbelief. “ That’s what you’re looking for? That he was...” He waved a hand in the direction of the Acropolis. “That he was here?”
He watched as a grimace crossed her face. “Have you read his first volume of the Description of Greece ?”
About to say he had, Randy reconsidered his response. “Parts of it. The volume having to do with Athens, of course, and the text about Sounion. I thought I would read the rest as we continue our tour,” he explained.
“Have you read any of the other volumes?”
He allowed a shrug. “Parts of others. For the places we’ve already decided to go to,” he added. “We still haven’t settled on a final itinerary for the rest of the country, though.”
“Did you notice anything... different ... in his writings?”
Her careful wording had him furrowing a brow as he settled back down onto the pallet. “Well, Tom mentioned it seemed as if his later volumes are more... descriptive. Certainly better written, but then... that’s to be expected,” he stammered.
“Why?”
The query came at the same moment a brilliant white arc lit the sky. Although he didn’t see it directly, the wash of light from it briefly illuminated Diana and lit her entire body. He was sure her nipples were tenting the fabric of her nightrail, their silhouettes evident in that fraction of a second. Then everything went back to black.
Randy struggled to keep his body’s immediate response in check. His hand was mere inches from hers, one of his legs nearly touched hers. It would be so easy to simply lean over her. To cup one of her breasts in his hand while his lips sought hers.
He had held her entire body only a few hours earlier. Lifted her until she was level with an engraving that might have been exactly what she was seeking—except it wasn’t.
“Uh...” He swallowed. “Pausanias probably hadn’t written anything else. He started in Athens and worked his way around to the other sites. So he was learning to describe what he was seeing and simply improving upon it as he continued his tour of the country,” he reasoned.
“Or he wasn’t here at all.”
The comment had him giving a start. “Why would you say that?”
He saw her shrug before she said, “He could have written it based on another person’s recollections. Or of other travelers’ descriptions.”
“Why would you even think that?” Randy asked in dismay.
She audibly sighed. “If he was here, and if he was the one to write about it, then he obviously wasn’t impressed by what he saw. There is no passion in his observations. No awe like there is in his later volumes.”
Randy considered her comment before he dipped his head. “You think that if he was here, he left markings in the marble somewhere?”
She nodded in the pillow under her head.
“And you think if you don’t find any evidence he was here, then that... that means he wasn’t?”
She once again sighed with frustration. “Not necessarily, but it has been something bothering me ever since I read his books,” she admitted.
“And this is what has you frustrated?”
He saw how she rolled her eyes before she replied. “It’s only one of many puzzles for which I would like to find answers, so you can understand why it is I am vexed.”
When she didn’t return her attention to the sky, Randy locked his gaze with hers. He waited another moment before saying, “A lover might help in that regard. Take your mind off your pursuit for a few hours.”
She broke eye contact with him to scoff. “Did you hear what you just said?” she asked in disbelief. “What you’re suggesting is… is scandalous,” she scolded.
“Why? If you’re a spinster?—”
“Well, I am not yet.”
“Can you be at the age of only one-and-twenty?” he asked, his face displaying one of concentration.
“I will still be unmarried and plan to remain so,” she insisted.
He made an odd sound in his throat. “One man might not be enough for you,” he murmured in a quiet voice.
Diana gave a start. Although the words had been said in almost a whisper, they sounded loud in the quiet night. “What do you mean?” She turned her head until she could see his profile. His gaze was still directed on the stars above.
“The reason you don’t wish to wed,” he clarified. “Is it because you already know you would grow bored with the same man?”
She kept her attention on him and finally said, “Perhaps.”
He suddenly turned to look at her. “Well, if not that, then why exactly don’t you wish to wed? I would think you would appreciate the protection it would afford you,” he argued. “For economical reasons as well as for your safety. Not to mention you would have someone with whom to attend entertainments. Someone to warm your bed.”
Having heard all the usual arguments from her mother, Diana sighed. Loudly. “First of all, I have never wished to marry because I didn’t want to...” Pausing, she swallowed.
“What?” he prompted.
“I don’t wish to become someone’s property,” she hissed.
Randy frowned. “So... mayhap you don’t marry, but instead you take a lover,” he countered.
“You’ve already said I would grow bored with the same man,” she accused.
“Which is why you would take more than one lover,” he said, managing to sound excited by the prospect.
A sound of disbelief erupted from her, but it was tinged with humor. “Could I now?”
He turned onto his side and, supporting himself on an elbow, propped his head on a hand. “Surely you’ve read about sultans and their harems,” he said. “The Ottoman Empire?”
Her brows furrowed. “I’ve read about them, of course. Up to four wives and hundreds of concubines for only one man.” She made a sound of disgust in her throat.
“You could be a sultana,” Randy said. “With lots of men at your beck and call.”
She tittered. “Now you really are being silly. Besides not having the funds to support a harem of men, I have no desire to manage them,” she replied.
“So... mayhap start with seven. One for every night of the week?”
Obviously stunned he was still pressing the issue, Diana turned onto her side to face him, matching his pose with her elbow and hand. “For a moment, I thought you were seriously suggesting I take seven lovers?—”
“Because I am,” he interrupted, even though he was grinning.
She inhaled sharply. “Do you have any idea how scandalous that would be?”
Despite the position he was in, Randy managed to shrug. “Would you care? What others think, I mean?”
She winced. “Do you have any idea how... how ridiculous you sound?”
“Why?”
“Just because I wish to remain unwed does not mean that I wish to live a life of scandal,” she explained.
“So... you start with one lover. Someone to warm your bed at night.”
“My bed is quite warm enough, which is why I am up here on the roof,” she said on a huff.
“So... separate bedchambers then,” he whispered. “Hmm.”
She directed a dubious expression at him. “One would think you are interested in the position.”
“And what if I am?” he asked.
Staring at him for several seconds, she finally exhaled before saying, “How could you be? Knowing how easily annoyed I become? Especially with you ?” She punctuated her words with a poke to his arm.
Although the comment stung, he pretended nonchalance. His shrug went almost unseen in the dark. “I would think of it as a challenge. One that I would need to meet—and exceed—as often as I am given the opportunity.”
She blinked and shook her head. “You say that as if you think?—”
“Apologies!” he suddenly said, scrambling to get to his feet. “Forgive me,” he added, reaching for her free hand to kiss the back of it.
The distant thumping of someone climbing the stairs had him rushing to one of the metal chairs. He managed to be seated before the door to the roof burst open.