Chapter 12
“Ihadn’t meant to do that,” Hart murmured dryly, glancing toward Monte. “Now we are in for it.” In response, the dog frantically wagged his stubby tail.
Hart watched as Emeline began to speak to the men around her, first that self-important puppy Sir Giles Peyton, and then Hart’s Oxford classmate, Tobias. The breeze had carried Cartwright’s booming speech and Emeline’s outraged lecture up to him, but now their voices were muted, and he had to wait.
Sitting above the fray on a secluded bench, Hart had been content to observe the proceedings, to notice how the men, young and old, looked at Emeline.
Of course, she was exquisitely beautiful, but so were many other young women.
Far more arresting was the radiance Emeline exuded and the sense of passion that had bravely spilled forth just now, when she had decried the sale of priceless artifacts for profit.
Hart drew a breath. He had agreed to come here today to appease Justin St. Briac and to save Austell from the consequences of his own folly, but he concealed another motive.
For reasons he wasn’t prepared to examine, Hart had wanted a look at Emeline with her supposed suitor. And after he and Monte had arrived late and seated themselves beneath the spreading oak trees, Hart had silently watched the proceedings at the excavation site.
It quickly became apparent that it was not Sir Giles Peyton who was smitten with Emeline, but Viscount Tobias Melford.
This thought caused something unfamiliar to twist inside Hart’s chest. Tobias had a great deal to offer an unconventional female like Emeline.
He was respectable and titled, yet unpretentious.
He was good-looking, kind, and honorable.
It wasn’t difficult to imagine the viscount declaring himself in the near future… even making her an offer of marriage.
Glancing over at the attentive Monte, he remarked, “I suppose you think I am getting ahead of myself? Yes, you are right. I will try to remember they just met.”
Below, Emeline was extending her hand to a bemused-looking Tobias, and, it seemed, he held it a bit too long before she turned away. Hart leaned forward as she opened her parasol and gracefully started toward him, up the gentle slope.
It seemed wise for him to go and meet her. Rising, Hart tucked Monte under one arm and went forward, summoning his most irresistible smile.
Emeline knew it must seem excessively odd that she was making her excuses to not only her escort but also her kind and attentive host. And of course, it was quite improper for her to leave the gathering and go off alone to speak to Hart.
Fortunately, she could not be bothered with such concerns…
especially after the scene of hypocrisy and greed she had just endured.
The timing of Hart’s slow, almost sardonic applause had felt like deliverance.
As Emeline lifted her skirts and walked toward him, her heart lifted.
All day, in spite of the kindnesses of Tobias and the unveiling of treasures she had witnessed, a part of her missed Hart.
How many times had she wanted to look for him, to share something, even a glance or a smile?
He was coming toward her, Monte wedged under one arm, carelessly handsome in the golden sunlight. Emeline badly wanted to rush forward and embrace them both.
“Are you very angry?” he asked.
Emeline shook her head, smiling. “Angry? Why would I be?” She rubbed Monte’s furry head with both hands and bent to receive several wet licks.
“Because I made a scene in front of all your new friends. Most of them don’t approve of me, and of course I interrupted your outing. Sir Giles—”
“Bother! I don’t care a button for him or his horrid mother.” She paused to laugh. “Oh, how lovely it is to be able to say what is really on my mind.”
“I like that about you as well.”
Color rose in her cheeks before she remembered their situation. “But what are you doing here?”
“Observing.” He gave her a slow smile, as if hoping she would not press him further.
“Did you come because you imagined I couldn’t manage on my own and I might need you?”
“Do you need me?”
“Of course not.” Her chin went up a fraction. “I was actually managing very well on my own. I have made an excellent new friend in Lord Melford, and the display of artifacts discovered here on the estate is magnificent.” A pause. “However…”
“Ah, so you do need me,” Hart challenged, amused.
“Please don’t be odious.” Impulsively, she took his hand and drew him behind the tree, where the people below could not see them.
“It is just that circumstances have made it unbearable for me to return to London with Sir Giles. Did you hear what they were saying just now, before you made yourself known?”
“My hearing is not that acute.” He set Monte down on the grass and lightly clasped her two elbows. “Kindly enlighten me.”
“It was so deplorable, I can scarcely believe it.” Emeline leaned closer to him and the story spilled out, beginning with the goatee man who chuckled, “Now Melford can afford that new roof for the manor house,” and progressing to Emeline’s even greater shock when Sir Giles insinuated that he might know of a buyer for the artifacts.
“Collectors, he called them!” She paused to shudder.
“I believed Sir Giles was a true scholar, dedicated to the emerging science of archaeology. How wrong I was. And now you must see why I cannot return to London in his carriage.”
“Of course.” His gaze was intent.
“You do understand!” Emeline exclaimed. “There’s nothing for it but for me to plead a headache and take my leave before Sir Giles begins asking a lot of questions.
I’ve already told him and Lord Melford that I am not feeling quite the thing, so it will be just fine.
” She came closer, smiling up at him. “My dear Hart, you have come at just the right moment to drive me home.”
Hart strolled down to the excavation site to speak to Tobias, leaving Monte behind in Emeline’s care.
It was fortunate, he realized, that his old classmate was well occupied conversing with a cluster of guests about the newly revealed artifacts.
After waiting on the fringe for a bit, he caught Tobias’s eye and lifted a hand.
“Hello,” he said pleasantly.
Melford stepped away from the others, smiling. “Greetings, Hart. I see that you were able to attend after all.”
“Good of you to include me. I apologize for remaining at a distance, but you see I had to bring my new…uh, dog, and I’m afraid his manners can be unpredictable.”
“Yes, I noticed you lounging there under the oaks.” Tobias held his gaze. Though not as tall as Hart, he still cut an imposing figure with his strong, stocky frame. “Pardon me for asking, but have you stolen Miss St. Briac? I haven’t seen her since she went off in your direction.”
“Stolen?” Hart gave him a lazy smile. “No, not a bit. In fact, Miss St. Briac sent me to present her regrets. She is unwell. A headache, I believe. As it happens, I am returning now to London, and she has asked me to see her home.” He cleared his throat.
“No need for concern. It’s all quite proper. I am her…employer.”
Tobias narrowed his eyes. “Proper is not a word I have ever associated with you, old fellow.”
“Is Miss St. Briac under your protection? I thought not.” Overcoming a mad urge to demand that Tobias stay away from Emeline, Hart drew a breath and continued more calmly, “The trouble is, Peyton has upset her, and the chit has a temper. She won’t go with him now.”
“I see. Yes, understandable I suppose.” Nearby, a white-haired dowager trilled a question to Tobias, and he smiled tightly in her direction. With seeming reluctance, he shook Hart’s hand. “I must go. Thank you for coming today.”
“This is delightful,” Emeline said as Hart handed her into a smart phaeton pulled by a pair of matched chestnuts. Monte sat between them, glancing back and forth as if wondering what would happen next. “I have two handsome gentlemen to escort me home.”
“Monte is less an escort than chaperone, I believe,” Hart said dryly.
Something in his tone sent a shiver of pleasure through her. The phaeton’s top was folded back and as they drove away from Amity Park, Emeline savored the breeze on her face.
“I didn’t know you owned an equipage.” She paused. “Or horses.”
“Why should I not?” Deftly handling the reins, Hart negotiated the corner at the foot of the avenue.
“You don’t seem to have many possessions.” She felt herself flush. “I mean, you live in a hotel. You travel to the Continent regularly and stay for long periods of time. You…” Emeline broke off before she could remark that he chose not to take a wife.
“Yet I must have transportation when I am in London,” he replied before smoothly changing the subject. “Now tell me, what did I miss today? I was only able to hear portions of Cartwright’s talk about the artifacts.”
Emeline told him all about the brooch, the helmet fragments, the wooden drinking vessels, and the sword hilt, as well as the theory that they might date to Viking times. “Oh, Hart, it made me long to know more details about your own discoveries. I’m certain that would aid in our research.”
“Hmm.” He almost seemed not to hear her request. “Well, perhaps.”
After a full minute of distant silence, Emeline said impulsively, “May I ask you a question?”
A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth. “You may.”
“Why do you live as you do?” Her heart sped up. “Without any true connections to a home…or people?”
To her surprise, Hart did not make a dismissive reply but kept his eyes on the road ahead as they bowled along through the golden countryside.
At length, he said, “You may know that my brother, the duke, is my twin. Scandal seems to follow me, even in the form of rumor, and I don’t want that to interfere with his life—especially since he came into the dukedom.
In order for me to carry on with my own…
pursuits, it is simpler to remove myself from London. ”