Chapter Eighteen
By the time Tess reached the dig site after stopping at home to change, she found that the Van Arsdales had been delivered
by Fenbridge’s carriage and coachman and were just descending.
Van Arsdale stomped down first, then his daughter waved helplessly at Dominic to assist her. Shockingly, Miss Van Arsdale
still wore jewels and a pastel frock that Tess feared would be ruined as soon as she stepped around the muddy site.
The young lady placed her hands on Dominic’s shoulders, her smile warm as he gently lowered her to the ground. She said something
to him, and he returned her smile—it was his charming smile. The one that could stop hearts. The one that left ladies breathless.
Then, as if he sensed her watching, he turned and locked eyes with Tess.
A new smile curved his lips—a bit lopsided, wider, one she almost believed he reserved only for her. But a moment later, Miss
Van Arsdale tugged at his arm, and Dominic turned, responding to whatever question she’d posed.
“You must guide me, Mr. Prince,” Tess heard her say. “I’m terribly curious about every little thing.”
Tess turned away, trying not to let the Americans’ presence and the young lady’s command of Dominic’s attention irk her.
He was not hers to feel possessive of, at least not in the long term.
They were each other’s for now. She knew that; understood it from the very start of whatever this was between them.
Yet the arrival of the Van Arsdales felt like a pointed reminder of the distance that should exist between them, a distance she had once told herself was necessary.
If they were to work together with clear minds, she could not afford to let herself become so deeply entangled.
“Excuse me, Miss Hawthorne.” Mr. Townsend approached, his hat in his hand. “There’s no sign of Mr. Hawthorne. Is he unwell?”
Tess hadn’t even noticed that her brother wasn’t among the workers already gathered at the site. “Not that I’m aware of. Let
me ask Mr. Prince. He saw him this morning.” Tess felt her cheeks flame at that admission and turned to wave a hand toward
Dominic.
He’d begun leading the Van Arsdales on a promenade around the trench’s perimeter but broke away immediately and strode toward
her.
“Are you all right?” he asked with a furrowed brow and genuine concern in his tone.
“It’s Tristan. You said you saw him this morning, but he’s not shown up at the site.”
“That’s not a good sign.”
“How did he seem this morning?”
He hesitated. “He has news that I suspect he won’t wish me to share.”
“You and my brother are keeping secrets from me now?”
“No, not at all.” He reached for her arm, his touch gentle. “I just know that he’d want to tell you himself.”
Normally, when Tristan was in dire trouble, Tess felt an odd sense of unease herself. A strange twin phenomenon that neither of them could explain but both accepted. She didn’t have that feeling, and there was an amused twinkle in Dom’s eyes that told her it wasn’t bad news Tristan needed to share.
He scanned the dig site. “Are the Bromleys here?”
Tess lifted her hand to shade her view from the bright morning sun. The younger Bromley was down in one of the segments where
they’d found metal fragments, excavating carefully alongside one of the other village men. But she didn’t see Bill.
“There they are,” Dominic told her, pointing toward the lane that led toward Fenbridge land.
Tess turned to see her brother and the much taller Bill Bromley walking down the lane in jovial conversation. Even from a
distance, the men’s laughter carried on the breeze.
“Good heavens,” Tess breathed. “It’s like witnessing a miracle.”
Dom chuckled behind her and then drew closer. She could feel the heat of him at her back and resisted leaning into it. “Perhaps
people can change after all.”
Tess glanced back at him, catching a flicker of wistfulness in his eyes.
“We have visitors?” Tristan called from a few feet away.
Tess strode toward her brother and Bill. “I trust you two can explain why you’ve become bosom pals.”
“Later, Tess,” Tristan told her. “And I promise the wait will be worth it.”
Tess narrowed her eyes at her twin and saw something in his expression she hadn’t seen in years, something very like joy.
“This has to do with Justine,” she guessed, half worry, half hope.
Bill winked but said nothing.
“Very well, if you’re going to drive me mad with wondering, then I must advise you both to be on your best behavior since
our patrons are visiting.”
Both men turned to gape at the Van Arsdales, who seemed stuck in place where Dominic had left them, as if marooned without his guidance.
“What exactly are they going to do at the site?” Tristan’s skepticism matched Tess’s own.
“Observe,” Dom put in. “Though I’d wager they’ll get bored soon enough and return to Fenbridge Hall.”
But just then Miss Van Arsdale’s voice, bright and loud and youthful, peeled across the site. “I say, Mr. Prince, can you
give me one of those tiny shovels so that I may dig too?”
Tess bit down so hard her jaw throbbed.
“It’ll be all right,” Dom whispered. “I won’t let her do any damage.” Then he brushed his hand along her back with the lightest
touch before marching back toward the Americans.
Tristan stepped closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. He assessed Tess as she stared at the madness unfolding across
the trench—Miss Van Arsdale stepping down into the dirt, trailing the ruffled hem of her stylish gown along the ground.
“If you could breathe fire, I suspect we’d all be singed at the moment,” Tristan told her in a teasing tone.
“I’m glad you’re happy.” Tess reached out to take hold of his arm. “But I just want to get through the day. Between waiting
to learn your secret and whatever these two plan to do to the dig site, it will be extraordinary if I do.”
“Justine and I want to tell you together.”
“Good heavens, what have you done?” Tess turned wide eyes her brother’s way. “Is she with child?”
Tristan let out one of his deep, full-throated laughs. “It’s even more shocking.” He leaned in. “Wedlock,” he whispered.
“Oh, Tris, that’s lovely news!” Tess embraced him, holding him tight, smiling so wide her earlier ire started to melt. A little. “And I promise to pretend to be shocked when you tell me together.” She pulled back to look at him. “I am shocked.”
“I am too, a bit.” He looked chagrined, but it didn’t dim any of the brightness in his eyes.
“Well, you’re both invited to dine at Fenbridge Hall tonight.”
“Are we?”
Tess gestured toward the Americans. “They’ve commandeered the place and Fenbridge is allowing it. Apparently, there’s to be
a formal dinner this evening with London visitors and all.”
“Well, I guess Dominic was wrong. They’re going to stay a while.” Tristan’s comment wasn’t about the dinner, but about the
fact that two footmen approached across Fenbridge’s field carrying chairs and umbrellas. There could be no doubt who they
were for.
Tess groaned. Tristan put a comforting arm of allegiance around her shoulders.
“If only the old curmudgeon had allowed us to dig, he could have saved us all this fuss. Though we would have been a bit poorer.”
“Exactly. We couldn’t have afforded all these men,” Tess admitted, “but, yes, point taken. It’s still a mystery why he refused
us and then allowed . . . this.” Tess waved toward the sight of Mr. Van Arsdale marching down the length of the trench, expecting
the workmen to part before him like the Red Sea.
“I wonder what we’ll find today.” Tristan rolled up his sleeves. “That’s what matters, Tess. Not them. It’s the story of the
people who built this ship, who put it into the ground, and whoever they meant to honor by its burial.”
It was very like what their father’s sentiments might have been but spoken in Tris’s playful style. It resonated inside her chest.
“Yes. You’re right.” Tess rolled up her sleeves too. What mattered was what they’d find. Not the Americans’ meddling, not
even the yearning she felt every time she looked Dominic’s way.
Because he would soon walk out of her life, but what they dug out of the mound would endure. Displayed in an American museum,
perhaps, but the history they recovered would be better understood. Tess suspected Eveline Prince planned to write about their
finds, as she had with other Prince expeditions. Still, Tess couldn’t help but think how their discoveries might bring a fresh
depth to her father’s Norfolk history.
She needed to stop replaying last night in her mind and remember: the dig was what mattered today. Everything else had to
wait.
The Van Arsdales were hardier than Dom had given them credit for. Even as the sun climbed high in the nearly cloudless sky
and the temperature rose, they remained seated in their chairs under umbrellas, partaking of the various drinks and foodstuffs
Fenbridge servants delivered to them every couple of hours.
Dom had the gut-twisting feeling he always did during a dig when they were on the cusp of something big. It had rarely failed
him, though as the day progressed, his attention was drawn again and again to Tess. Whatever they were about to unearth mattered
to him more because they’d find it together.
“Dominic!” Tristan was down in the lower middle end of the trench with three other men, and Dom made his way down the dirt
shelf at the edge of the trench to where the three worked.
“What do you make of these?” Tristan cupped his dirty hands together, displaying five coins, gold coins.
“There are more here,” Townsend said quietly, still crouched down, gently unearthing what seemed a purseful of coins, though
the container itself had long since decomposed in the soil.
Dom took one from Tristan’s hand, rubbing gently at the dust to make out the engraving.
“Tess,” Tristan called. “Come have a look.”
Even the sound of her name being called set off a little flutter in Dom’s chest, and he watched her approach with a too obvious