Chapter 16 #2
Austell had been hunched over, staring morosely down at his fine bespoke shoes, but now he lifted his head.
“Do you mean it? In truth, you could assist with a plan I have been mulling!” He paused and bit his lower lip, as if trying to decide how much to say.
“Dash it, Jasper, my valet tells me you have discovered artifacts on Mama’s estate!
Then, when I heard about Melford’s dig, I thought, why wouldn’t there be valuable relics buried at Caversham Castle as well?
By selling them, I amass the funds to not only reimburse St. Briac but also finance all manner of castle renovations. ”
Hart felt a familiar stab of resentment when his brother referred to Woodcroft Priory as “Mama’s estate,” as if it didn’t actually belong to Hart at all.
When the duchess had died a decade ago, and her bequest to Hart was read aloud, Father had strenuously objected, insisting that he was her husband and all her worldly goods should pass to him. And thence to Austell…
Fortunately, their lawyer, whom the duchess had taken into her confidence, had intervened. Mr. Frith had a quiet but resolute manner, and even the imperious old duke was forced to cede control.
With an effort, Hart focused again on his brother. “You might not find a thing, but even if you did discover ancient artifacts,” he explained patiently, “you can’t simply sell them all, pocket the money, and walk away.”
“Why not? They would belong to me to do with as I wish!”
Hart instantly thought of Amity Park and remembered Emeline’s shock when Giles Peyton and his cronies began to talk of selling the treasures to collectors in Italy.
He could still hear her voice, putting the men in their places: These relics belong to history, to scholarship—not to avaricious buyers seeking trinkets for their parlors!
“There is a great deal more to it, I’m afraid,” Hart informed his brother. “Spend a day at the British Museum and you’ll know what I mean. If everyone who uncovered antiquities hoarded them or sold them to gain wealth, the museums would be empty.”
“When exactly did you acquire such a rigid moral code?” scoffed Austell.
“Touché.” Hart allowed himself a twisted smile.
As he considered Austell’s tart comment, a chill swept over him.
The notion that he might have ruined everything with Emeline struck with painful force, and yearnings, buried for most of his life, awoke in his heart.
Was it possible to embark on a new path, never before explored or even imagined?
Perhaps, if he faced Emeline and they talked openly, he would learn the answer.
The tall-case clock in the library struck three. The afternoon was waning, and Hart needed to be on his way to Chesterfield Street. Rising, he turned to Austell. “I know you are very busy. I won’t keep you here any longer.”
Taking his cue, the duke stood, and Monte silently trundled over to join them. They had taken only one step, however, when Austell stopped and put a hand on Hart’s arm. “I would be neglecting my duty as a brother if I did not raise a certain matter with you.”
Now what? “Go on.”
Austell cleared his throat. “I must speak to you about Emeline St. Briac.” His eyebrows lifted. “You know, the Exquisite.”
“What about her?”
“People are talking, Jasper. She has been seen in your company. In your dashed phaeton! If Justin St. Briac should suspect that you have taken liberties with his daughter…”
Hart had weathered enough condemnation in his lifetime to hide his feelings, even the dark foreboding that chilled him now. It might be true that St. Briac himself had asked him to keep an eye on Emeline, but Hart had crossed a forbidden line with her long ago.
“Being seen in my company hardly means she is in my bed,” he said roughly. “As it happens, Miss St. Briac shares my interest in archaeology.” Realizing how flimsy that sounded, Hart hastened to add, “In any event, she is a woman grown, as she herself would tell you.”
“And you are a notorious libertine. Even this house has come to you through one of your illicit affairs, and I can assure you all of London will soon be aware of it!” Austell took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.
“I hesitate to speak to you in so frank a manner, but it seems I must. Emeline St. Briac may be an independent woman who has set up her own establishment, but the fact remains that she is inexperienced in the ways of men like you, Jasper. Such an association might well ruin her chances for a respectable husband, and I shudder to think what her father would do in that case.”
Hart’s gut clenched tighter with each word Austell spoke. “Are you quite finished?”
“Oh, yes! I shall say no more on that head.” The duke straightened his shoulders. “Let us part instead thinking of the future…and what may be hidden underground at Caversham Castle.”
Glad for the distraction, Hart nodded. “If you should decide to conduct an excavation on the castle grounds, I will share any knowledge I have with you.”
His brother was looking almost cheerful as they reached the front door. “By Jove, I think I will do it. No doubt Margaret would be quite impressed, and I rather fancy the notion of being known as the Archaeologist Duke!”
Arriving back at Chesterfield Street, Emeline longed only to go up to her room, close the door, and ponder in solitude all that had happened that day.
When she removed her hat and reached up to pull a few pins from her hair, she caught the arousing scent of Hart on her bare hands.
Memories came flooding back…of their intoxicating kisses, her fingers sinking into his hair and caressing his strong neck.
Emeline leaned against a bedpost, lightheaded with desire.
He had called her Sorceress, but surely it was Hart casting the spell.
Her heart was in turmoil, especially as she remembered their parting. After what they had shared today, she would hope for a tender gaze, a few intimate words, but he gave her none of that.
Instead, he had warned her away from him.
What had he said? Curse it, this is who I am.
Doubtless, she should heed those biting words, and yet the prospect of life without Hart felt bleak beyond imagining.
It could not have been mere lust that drove their passionate encounter in his library.
Emeline felt otherwise every moment she was in his arms, responding to his mouth, his touch, his male body.
Furthermore, there had been a flame in his eyes that reflected her own deeper feelings.
Surely, once his brother was gone from the house on Wigmore Street, Hart would come to her. They had to talk. It seemed that the future, for both of them, hung in the balance.
From the stairs, Dora called, “Miss Emeline, will you have tea? I ventured to bake a seed cake today and it is still warm.”
“Oh… Yes, thank you, Dora. I will be right down.”
No sooner had Emeline changed into her favorite, simple blue gown than she heard voices on the street below.
From her bedroom window, she saw Tobias handing Louise down from his carriage.
It was just the distraction Emeline needed.
One hoped Tobias would bid Louise goodbye at the door and then the cousins could sit together, drink tea, and chat about Louise’s adventure at Kew Gardens.
Emeline hurried down the stairs just as the front door opened to admit both Louise and Tobias. To her consternation, the viscount deposited his hat and walking stick in the entryway, as if he were quite at home.
“Hello, Emmie,” exclaimed Louise. “How lovely to find that you have also returned!”
“The fresh air has certainly done you good,” Emeline told her as they embraced. “You are glowing.”
At this, her cousin blushed. “It was a wonderful day, wasn’t it? Oh, I see that Dora has just served tea.” She turned to Tobias. “You will join us, won’t you, my lord?”
“I would like that very much.” He turned to smile at Emeline.
“I doubtless have bits of grass clinging to me,” Louise said, and started toward the stairway. “Will you excuse me for a few minutes while I take off my hat and shake out my skirts?”
Emeline watched her go up the steps and steeled herself to be alone with Tobias. Turning, she smiled at him. “I take it that my departure did not spoil the rest of the afternoon for you and Louise.”
“We did have a very nice time,” he acknowledged.
Before she could sit down at the tea table, he stepped closer to her.
“I was very concerned about your welfare, however, my dear. You have a tender heart, and I know you felt you should be with that dog…but you should not have gone away alone with Hartcliffe.”
“I appreciate your concern, but you should know that I disdain the rules restricting the movements of females, as if we were too feather-witted to set our own standards of conduct.” Emeline patted his hand.
“If I had just left the schoolroom, it might be different, but I am three-and-twenty, my lord.”
Tobias blinked. “But surely you don’t mean to go on alone indefinitely.”
“At this moment, yes, I do.” Charting my own course, even if it is unconventional.
Tobias took her hand and fixed her with his warm gaze.
“You are headstrong, and I find that charming.” He stepped closer until they were almost touching, and she inhaled his spicy shaving lotion.
“Your spirit attracted me from the moment we first met…that and your rare beauty, of course. But rest assured that I see beyond your beauty.” His face grew ruddy as he set a big hand against her cheek.
“My dear Emeline, I have something important to say to you and I hope you will listen…”