Chapter 24 #2
Hart stared after her, wondering what the devil she meant by that.
The next morning, when Emeline went out to the excavation site, Hart was already there, chatting with Tobias, Louise, and Mr. Ackerman.
In spite of herself, she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of him standing near the arched ruins, bathed in hazy dawn light.
He looked travel-worn, yet more appealing than ever.
His tousled dark hair glinted with more silver than she remembered, and there were worry lines about his eyes.
“I’ve just brought Hart up to date on all that we’ve discovered here,” Tobias announced as Emeline drew near. “We are about to go down into the pit so he can see for himself.”
“Ah. Good morning, Miss St. Briac,” Hart said, his blue eyes lingering on her face.
“Good morning.” She gave him a prim nod and looked at Tobias. “I have something of my own to show you when you are free.”
Tobias blinked, smiling. “Splendid! Let us go down then.”
Emeline and Louise descended the ladder first, and as the two men followed them, she heard Hart say, “This trench is deeper than I realized, and the Suffolk soil is sandy. There should be wooden supports, especially at this end, where the passage is so narrow.”
“Yes,” Tobias agreed. “You are quite right. Ackerman can set his nephews on it as soon as we finish here.”
“The sooner the better,” Hart said. “I’ll speak to him myself.”
They crossed to the more open area where the excavation of the burial chamber was in progress, and Tobias began relating to Hart the story of Emeline’s first discovery of the stained soil, and then the iron hook and the copper flagon still being uncovered.
Next to them, Louise made notes in her book.
Emeline stood apart, feeling torn. Since they first arrived at the priory, she had ached to have Hart there as well, yet this new reality was bittersweet.
It seemed that she had idealized him, dreaming of him at night, remembering each exquisite moment of their lovemaking, imagining that only Hart, who was lost to her, could understand her completely.
But now, in the wake of his return and the terrible moments when he had announced that he would marry her if there is nothing for it, her love for him seemed tarnished.
Emeline shivered in the damp cold and wrapped both arms around herself.
She should have faced facts upon discovering that Hart was helping her father to manipulate her!
Hadn’t she always sworn that she would never marry a man like Papa?
“Emeline?” Tobias’s voice broke into her revery, and she looked up to find the others watching her. “What was it you wanted to show us?”
“Oh, yes.” Sternly, she reminded herself of the serious work that had so absorbed her just before Hart appeared yesterday to upend her world. “I found something important.”
Emeline led them over to the place where she had uncovered the green glass beaker. Before leaving the trench, she had tucked it back into the space where it had originally been and patted a thin layer of dirt over the top to keep it safe.
“It’s really quite amazing,” Emeline said, glancing up before she brushed the soil away and held up the glass goblet with its claw decorations.
“Goodness!” exclaimed Louise. “I never imagined that the brutish Vikings could be so artistic.”
Hart held out his hand, and Emeline found herself setting the goblet in his palm. The barest brush of his fingers against hers sent a warning tingle through her body.
Holding the piece to the light, he blew away more of the dirt that was caked into each tiny crevice. Sunlight shone dimly through tiny bubbles within the pale green glass.
“What does this mean?” wondered Tobias. “Could the grave be Roman? Or medieval, perhaps?
“When did glassblowing even come along?” asked Louise.
After a moment, Hart said, “I once saw a similar claw beaker in Germany. It was said to be more than a thousand years old.” He paused. “Seventh century, in fact.”
“But that would mean the Dark Ages!” protested Tobias. “We all know that British civilization took a massive step backward after the Romans packed up and left.”
Emeline spoke up. “Perhaps we don’t understand the Dark Ages as well as we thought! Meanwhile, there is more.” With that, she pointed to the edge of the second goblet that protruded from the dirt.
“By Jove, another one!” Tobias blinked in amazement.
Out came his trowel and he went to work with the fine edge of the blade, wedging away bits of soil to gradually reveal the matching beaker.
Louise perched on a small step carved into the side of the trench, watching him as she recorded the details in her book.
Hart reached into Emeline’s case of tools, availed himself of her pastry brush, and began cleaning the first green glass beaker. She walked over and tapped his shoulder.
“Excuse me, but I would like a private word with you.” She glanced up, toward the ground above the trench.
One of his dark brows flicked up. “Of course.”
Emeline went ahead of him up the ladder. When they were both standing next to the crumbling arches of the old priory, Hart turned to face her.
“It’s amazing what you have uncovered,” he said. “You’ve done excellent work.”
“Thank you.” Trying to resist the powerful tug of his attraction, Emeline stepped backward. “Now that you see how well it is going here, you may feel free to return to Lisbon.”
He gave a short laugh. “Is that what you wanted to say? You are dismissing me? Perhaps you have forgotten that this estate, including the excavation site, are my property.”
Her entire body felt alive in a way she knew to be dangerous. “If you intend to remain, working on the dig, I must return to London. I have plans, you see, and it’s just as well that I get on with them before winter descends.”
“Are you really this angry with me?” His dark hand reached out to grasp her arm. In spite of the chilly air, Emeline felt the heat of his touch through her tweed jacket. “Fine. If you insist on ending even our friendship, so be it.”
Their friendship? “I thought you had already done that when you rode off to Lisbon in the dead of night, while I was asleep in your bed!”
“Touché.” Pain flashed in his eyes. “Perhaps I can never make you understand.”
“I assure you, I have come to understand all too well.”
“Then, you are right, one of us should go, and of course it should be me. You’ve done such fine work on the dig, I hope that the three of you will carry on as long as you care to remain.” Releasing her arm, Hart added, “I will tell William to pack our things.”
Emeline turned away to hide her own tears and hurried back toward the trench.
Thankful that Louise and Tobias were still busy at the other end of the site, she set her boots against the ladder rungs and descended blindly.
Once safely hidden from Hart’s view, she pressed her face against the cold wall of earth.
Would this grief twisting her heart ever end?
Opening her eyes, she glimpsed what appeared to be a row of four amber and lapis beads protruding slightly from the dirt in front of her. No sooner had she lifted her hand to touch them than a sound like thunder filled her senses.
Emeline was swept by a chilling sense of doom. She glanced up toward the sky just as the steep walls of the trench gave way. The world went black as a massive, rumbling cascade of sand, chalk, and loam buried her alive.