34. A Father-Daughter Talk
CHAPTER 34
A FATHER-DAUGHTER TALK
M eanwhile
Jasper Henley glanced behind him as Marianne escorted Randolph Forster to the front door.
Although her words were quiet, he had overheard a few of them. From her manner with the heir to an earldom, he knew his wife was happy about what they had witnessed.
Diana kissing a young man.
Willingly, it appeared.
A hand in his hair and the entire front of her body pressed into his.
Only a month ago, he had assured her she could choose the life of a spinster. She could have her dowry when she reached one-and-twenty. Live the life of an independent woman wherever in the world she wished to be.
He had hoped she might join him on his excavations on the Acropolis. That she might continue to live with Marianne and him as they adapted to life in a new country. That she would remain under his protection.
Having arrived in Piraeus only two hours earlier, the very last thing he would expect to discover was Diana with a young man.
He quickly glanced around the ground floor parlor to realize the crates that contained the stuff of their life in Sicily were nowhere to be found. The furnishings, rugs, and decor were all unpacked and in place. Portraits and paintings were already hung on the plaster walls—familiar and yet not, given their new home.
In the middle of it all stood Diana, her face displaying an expression that seemed to vary from that of panic to despair to resignation. What he didn’t expect to see were tears.
“It’s rather remarkable what you’ve managed to accomplish in the short amount of time you’ve been here,” he said, waving to indicate the parlor.
Diana sniffled. “Thank you. I didn’t wish for Mother to find it a mess.”
“Your brothers were probably of no help,” he guessed.
She shook her head. “They, um..., they have been exploring. Michael has been working on the Acropolis, and Marcus has been... courting,” she stammered.
Jasper gave a start. “Courting? Huh. Must be something in the water?” he gently teased.
Dipping her head, Diana covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
Taking the five steps that separated them, Jasper wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “Oh, there now. No need to cry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t wish to do,” he assured her.
She straightened her head in an attempt to look over his shoulder. “I know, Father. It’s silly of me to think you would make me marry him,” she said, watching her mother as Randy took his leave. Marianne was standing at the front door, and despite the butler having closed it, she still faced the carved wooden panel.
“You’re not going to make me marry him, are you?” she pressed.
Jasper shook his head. “No, but I do think you’ll want to...” Aware his daughter’s attention was no longer on him, Jasper let go of her. He turned to see his wife’s back, her light redingote wrinkled from their ride in the coach. “Sweeting?” he called out. “What is it?”
He watched as Marianne raised a gloved hand, one of her fingers tracing a pattern in the back of the door. “This door is amazing,” Marianne replied, briefly glancing over her shoulder. “You must come interpret the words for me.”
Diana and Jasper exchanged quick looks of confusion before they moved to join her.
Although there was a transom window above the door, the entry was too dark to make out any detail directly. Lifting the lantern she used whilst working from where it rested on a nearby table, Diana turned up the flame and held it close to the door.
“It appears to be an inscription of some sort,” Jasper murmured, taking the lantern from Diana and lifting it even higher.
“It’s Greek. Old Attic, I think,” Diana whispered.
“You haven’t noticed it before?” Marianne asked in surprise.
Diana started to answer in the negative and instead shook her head. “Mr. Kyknos always opens the door before I get this close,” she said.
“Leave it to your blind mother to discover the most interesting things,” Jasper murmured, his face mere inches from the painted panel.
“Jasper,” Marianne scolded. “I am wearing my new spectacles,” she said proudly, reaching up with a gloved hand to push them up her nose. “But I only looked at it more closely because I noticed Randolph’s fascination with it.”
Diana gave a start. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to read all of it. The faint carving was barely visible through the paint.
“I don’t think this is wood,” Jasper said, opening the door to examine the edge of it. “This is, though,” he added, his gaze sweeping the exterior. He fisted his hand and knocked on it, listening intently to the sound it made.
“It’s an inlay,” Marianne said, beaming at her discovery. “I think it’s marble.” She removed one of her gloves and scraped a fingernail along the edge where the inlay met the wood. Flakes of thin, brown brittle paint—the same paint as what covered the wooden interior of the door—fell away to reveal white stone. “Whoever would paint marble?” she asked in complaint.
“The Greeks,” Diana and her father replied in unison. The two grinned at each other before returning their attention to the carving.
“Do you know what would make this easier to see?” Jasper asked, one finger tracing the shape of a letter.
“We scrape away the paint on the surface. Whatever remains is the inscription,” Diana answered.
“Exactly.”
“Might you have a razor we could use? I don’t have one in my satchel,” she said, her attention still on the carving.
Jasper glanced around. “Did someone bring in our trunks?” he asked of the butler.
Kyknos dipped his head. “I was about to, my lord.” He motioned to the door. “But I did not wish to disturb her ladyship and Lord Forster and whatever it is you are doing.”
“Oh, do go about your duties,” Marianne said, pulling her husband and daughter from the door. “We really should take a tour of the house and get settled before we go about excavating anything.”
Diana sighed with disappointment. “Of course, Mother. I’ll show you to your rooms,” she said. “And take you to the roof. From there, you can see almost all of Athens.”
Marianne hurried into the front parlor, obviously happy to see their possessions in place. “Have you left anything for me to do?” she asked, turning to see for the first time that her daughter had been crying.
“I wasn’t sure where you wanted things exactly, but I didn’t want you to have to contend with the crates,” she replied before a sob interrupted her breath.
“Where are your brothers, dear?”
Diana gave a start. “Uh, Marcus is... he’s with the Fitzsimmonses,” she replied. “I believe they were going to the National Gardens this afternoon.”
“The Fitzsimmonses,” Marianne repeated quietly. “As in Lord Reardon’s children?” she asked.
“Well, they’re no longer children,” Diana hedged.
“So Marcus is courting Miss Jane?” her father guessed.
Surprised her father would jump to that conclusion, Diana was about to ask how he knew when he said, “We came upon Viscount Reardon and his wife in Rome,” he explained. “They mentioned that they had already toured Northern Greece and were heading back to England. They said they allowed Antonio and Miss Jane to come to Athens. Apparently he wished to experience a bit of a Grand Tour for himself and agreed to allow Miss Jane to join him for a time.”
“They were only planning to be here for a fortnight,” Diana said. “They’re expected in Spain soon.”
He chuckled softly. “When we arrived here, I thought perhaps Antonio was the young man who was kissing you.”
Diana’s face flushed red. “Although he is a very handsome young man, I barely know him, Father,” she replied. “I feel as if I know Miss Jane much better, though. I thought for a time Marcus was only interested in her because...” Here she paused and rolled her eyes. “She’s gorgeous, and well-educated, and she would make the perfect viscountess.”
Marianne blinked. “If not for those reasons, then is there another?”
Her shoulders dropping, Diana shook her head. “She is truly a very amiable young woman,” she said on a sigh. “Despite having agreed to a betrothal to a future marquess who is equally amiable, it seems she would prefer to be married to my brother and have lots of babies with him,” she added, sounding flummoxed at the thought Jane would choose Marcus over David.
“So... you have spent time with her?” Jasper asked, obviously concerned his heir was already courting.
“Nearly two entire days of traveling to and from Cape Sounion in the same carriage,” she replied.
“You’ve already been to see the temple there?” he asked, his disappointment evident.
“Randy invited me to join his family, and Marcus and the Fitzsimmonses had already made plans to go, so we all went the same day.” She inhaled softly. “Oh, I would go again. Whenever you’d like. The sunset was... truly beautiful. I tried to paint it, but I don’t think I captured the colors quite right. And there was a new moon, and Venus was perched halfway up the sky, a brilliant white diamond against a rather rich cerulean blue,” she said in a rush.
Jasper exchanged quick glances with Marianne. “And the Temple of Poseidon?” he prompted.
Diana blinked. “Oh. Well, the temple was... quite spectacular. It’s missing half its columns and the cella, of course, but it’s in far better repair than I would have expected given its location,” she gushed. “The inscriptions around its base are rather varied. Lots of graffiti. Lord Byron even carved his name in one of the square columns.”
Furrowing a brow at hearing his daughter’s description, Jasper said, “It all sounds rather romantic.”
“Oh, it was,” she assured him. “I think it’s where Miss Jane decided she rather liked Marcus. She, uh, begged off her betrothal with Viscount Penton—it was all very amiable—and accepted Marcus’ offer of marriage the same night. And although he really should ask permission from her father, at least according to Antonio, he has every intention of marrying her within the week. He was going to speak with the mayor about a civil ceremony today.”
Jasper scoffed softly, but it was Marianne who asked the most important question.
“And you?” her mother prompted. “Is the Temple of Poseidon where you and Cousin Randy fell in love?”
Diana’s eyes rounded before she dipped her head. She was saved from having to answer when the butler appeared under the archway. “Your trunks have been taken to your rooms, my lord, my lady,” he announced.
Jasper nodded to the servant. “Let’s have a look about the house,” he suggested, offering his arm to Marianne. “Although I was going to pay a call on Mr. Pittakis this afternoon, I think I shall do so on the morrow,” he said, referring to the archaeologist in charge. He turned to Diana. “And I can see you are anxious to start scraping paint from the front door,” he murmured.
She allowed a watery grin. “Is it that obvious?” she asked rhetorically.
He chuckled softly. “Come, daughter. I know that even if I tell you to wait until the morning, you’ll have the paint removed before you take to your bed.”
Diana nodded. “You have the right of it.”
A half-hour later, razor in hand, she began at the top of the marble inlay and began scraping away brown paint from the marble. Occasionally, the housekeeper would appear with a broom and dustpan to clear the entry floor of the paint chips, her initial sounds of protest changing to approval as the marble was revealed.
She only had a few inches exposed when she heard her brothers approaching from the other side. Sighing, she set aside the razor and opened the door before Michael and Marcus had reached it.
“Hello, Sister,” Michael said with surprise. His brows furrowed. “What are all those brown flecks all over your shirt?”
“Old paint,” she replied, stepping aside to allow them into the house.
“Is something wrong with Mr. Kyknos?” Marcus asked. “I don’t ever recall him not opening the door for us.”
“No. He’s unpacking Father’s trunk,” she replied. “Mother and Father arrived only an hour ago.” She grinned, knowing the news would have them hurrying up the stairs.
Left alone again, she continued her scraping while she considered all that had happened on this day.