Seven
The next day Evangeline settled on the marble bench near the fountain in Lord Dominic’s courtyard and opened her sketchbook. A beam of late morning sunlight illuminated the paper, the charcoal lines standing out against the page.
She, Regina, and Xavier had visited the Stoa of Attalos the previous day. It was once a thriving market of small shops built by King Attalos II of Pergamon as a gift to Athens. Evangeline had sketched the layout while on site and started adding details earlier that morning when she couldn’t sleep.
The glass doors leading to the sitting room she shared with Regina and Xavier opened.
“Bonjour,” Xavier said as he walked outside carrying a tray loaded with fruit and flaky nut pastries drizzled with honey.
Regina followed with the teapot, looking more refreshed than she had in weeks. The fresh air and exercise from walking the streets of Athens seemed to have been what she needed.
“You are up early,” Regina said.
Evangeline smiled. “No, you two are up late. Did you forget about visiting Hadrian’s Library today?”
“The ruins have been there for centuries and aren’t going anywhere.” Regina pointed toward the square wood slat table pushed against the outside wall. “We can set up there,” she said to Xavier.
He carried the tray across the courtyard, surefooted on the uneven clay tiles.
“We are having a picnic,” Regina explained, though it was unnecessary. “Do you want to join us?”
“I ate earlier this morning. I want to add details to my drawing from yesterday.”
“Was the book from Lord Dominic’s library useful?” Xavier asked.
“Very.”
Sir Jonathan had invited her to browse the shelves after dinner last night, and she had found a very old book that described the sights and sounds of the marketplace from before it fell into ruins.
She couldn’t determine how accurate the account was.
Most details about the ancient world had been passed down by word of mouth until someone decided to record them.
But she woke that morning with a vision in her mind, and she wanted to put it on paper.
Once Xavier placed the tray on the table, he took the teapot from Regina and slipped his arm around her waist to guide her to the simple wooden bench.
“This was a lovely idea,” Regina said. “We haven’t picnicked since Hyde Park.”
“You fell in love with me that day.”
“I did not. I still believed you were a scoundrel.”
“But a handsome devil, non?”
Regina laughed and laid her head against his shoulder. Xavier dropped a kiss on her hair before urging her to sit.
While they ate breakfast, Evangeline focused on her drawing. She barely glanced up when Xavier returned the tray to the sitting room and asked Regina if she felt up to sparring with him.
Uncle Charles had taught Evangeline and her two sisters to defend themselves with ancient fighting moves he’d learned on a sojourn to the Far East, but Regina was the only one to have mastered Wing Chun.
Evangeline and Sophia kept up basic skills simply because their older sister needed a sparring partner from time to time, but neither of them was an even match for her.
Regina was a warrior repackaged as a slender, blonde, beautiful woman. Thankfully, her husband was happy to fulfill the role of sparring partner now. Evangeline had better ways to fill her time than warding off punches from her sister.
Evangeline added a vegetable stall and merchant to her sketch while Regina and Xavier moved to an open area of the courtyard.
They assumed their fighting stances. Xavier initiated the first attack.
Regina's movements were graceful yet precise as she blocked his strikes, her skirts swishing as she pivoted.
At home, she wore trousers, but practicing in her usual attire made the most sense to Evangeline. An attacker wasn’t going to wait while Regina changed out of her gown.
The scratch of Evangeline’s charcoal against paper mixed with the sounds of an occasional soft thud when Regina landed a hit.
Xavier wasn’t quite fast enough to strike her, but he would pull his punches anyway even if he was.
The fountain's gentle splash provided a constant backdrop to their morning routine, along with the voices of neighboring women and children playing in adjacent courtyards.
A flash of light across her drawing made Evangeline look over her shoulder. Sir Jonathan stepped from the foyer, blinding sunlight reflecting off the glass as he closed the door. His eyebrows rose as he spotted Regina and Xavier sparring. They stopped, turning toward him.
“Wing Chun,” Evangeline offered. “Uncle Charles taught us.”
Sir Jonathan’s surprise gave way to a smile. “You did tell me about your unconventional upbringing. Please, Mr. and Mrs. Vistoire, don’t allow my unexpected presence deter you.”
“If you are certain we won’t disturb you,” Regina said. “Evangeline is absorbed by her one true love, so we cease to exist in her eyes.”
“Then I will sit quietly and not interfere with her process.”
“I notice you,” Evangeline said to her sister. “Believe it or not, I am capable of noticing my surroundings while performing other tasks.”
Regina laughed lightly. “I’m only playing.”
She and Xavier returned to their practice, and Evangeline patted the bench.
“Don’t listen to her, Sir Jonathan. Your presence is welcome. Would you like to see my drawing?”
He sat beside her and took the sketchbook she offered, his eyes widening. “You’ve captured the columns and shadows perfectly. And your restoration…”
He lowered the sketchbook and glanced at her. “It is amazing, Miss Darlington. The stalls and shoppers—even the restored statue. You’ve taken us back in time.”
She warmed at his praise. “The book from Lord Dominic’s library was very informative. I have taken some license and applied my imagination, but I tried to keep the details as accurate to the book as possible.”
Regina landed another hit, followed by Xavier's quiet chuckle. Evangeline smiled, shaking her head. “It’s fortunate Lord Dominic’s walls are tall. Those two would probably scandalize the neighbors.”
“The neighbors have high walls, too. Who knows what they are getting up to in private.”
“Well, I appreciate your lack of judgment.”
“And I am pleased your sister is feeling better.” He shifted on the bench, his knee brushing hers and sending a scorching wave of heat through her. She took back her sketchbook, fighting the urge to fan her face.
“We are continuing our tour of Athens today,” she said. “I would invite you to join us, but I imagine your research is most pressing. That is the reason you are in Athens, no?”
Since traveling with her brother-in-law, she had inadvertently adopted some of his speaking patterns.
“Erm…yes.”
“I’m surprised you chose this area, given how well researched it already is,” she said.
Perhaps he was here for the same reason Uncle Charles had come to Athens. Sir Jonathan’s area of expertise might be frame drumming, but with such a monumental event—the discovery of a fabled group—his interests could have shifted.
“Athens has personal significance.” His voice wavered slightly. “It was the first place my parents brought me to tour once I was old enough to travel.”
Her arm fell limp at her side. Had she imagined a flicker of pain in his eyes?
“My father was fascinated by the Acropolis. Some see ruins, but he saw everything as it used to be. He talked about returning for years.”
She paused, wetting her lips. “Your father never returned to Athens, did he?” she asked softly.
“No.” He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. “I lost both parents close together.”
“Oh, Sir Jonathan.”
The narrowest of fissures snaked across the protective casing surrounding her heart. She understood the shock of losing both parents too well. Mercifully, after losing both of hers, she’d had her sisters, Uncle Charles, and her auntie to help her feel as though she was a part of something solid.
“I’m very sorry,” she murmured.
“It was a long time ago.”
His response was eerily similar to the one she gave when newcomers learned she was an orphan. The past was the past. It couldn’t be changed, only understood.
“Would you like to join us when we tour the Acropolis?” she asked. “Assuming we are able to get permission.”
“You will have it in a few days.”
“And will you accompany us?”
A smile softened his face, laugh lines crinkling around his eyes. “It would be my honor.”
La! He was too handsome by half and sent her heart racing when he smiled. She fussed with her charcoal, diverting her attention to her drawing. “Has Lord Dominic returned?”
“Not yet,” he said. “He didn’t say how long he would be gone.”
She abandoned her sketch, cocking her head. “Are you certain he didn’t return in the middle of the night?”
He sat up straighter, her challenge clearly catching him off guard. “Yes, why do you ask?”
She pointed toward Lord Dominic’s quarters on the second floor. “All of the blinds are still closed.”
“The servants are keeping them closed to ward off the heat.”
She glanced toward her own bedchamber, noting they hadn’t done the same after tidying her room. She studied his neutral face and couldn’t detect any deception. Perhaps Lord Dominic had returned without alerting him.
Forcing a pleasant smile, she asked more about his latest work. “Are you writing a second book?”
“How did you—?”
“I found a copy of Rhythms of Ancient Life in my aunt’s belongings last night.”
His jaw dropped. She chuckled nervously, wondering if he had noticed the trunk was locked when he carried it into her bedchamber.
“I hope to start reading it tonight,” she said. “I would love to discuss it with you later.”
“I would be delighted." He paused, throat working. “Though I should warn you, most find the subject matter rather dry.”
She smiled, genuinely amused by his assumption. “Honestly, I find the interests of most non-scholars to be rather dry. Remember, I read your articles in Vetusta Monumental—multiple times.”
Color washed his cheeks and his eyes brightened. “If I am being honest, I find non-scholars boring as well. It is refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t yawn when I bring up my work.”
“Most cringe when I speak of ancient warfare, so I understand.”
“I, for one, look forward to an evening of intellectual exchange,” he said. “But regretfully, I must bid you good day. My next book will not write itself.”
“Pity,” she said. “I imagine you prefer to be in the field rather than behind a desk.”
“You really do understand me, Miss Darlington.”
Soon after Sir Jonathan returned to the house, Regina and Xavier’s sparring session ended. Evangeline kept working on her sketch while they tidied up for the outing.
When they arrived at Hadrian’s Library, she walked the perimeter.
The book she had borrowed from Lord Dominic described the building before it had fallen into ruin.
She could picture it clearly. Eager to begin sketching, she plopped her sketchbook on a large, flat-topped rock, climbed atop, and dug her charcoals from the enormous bag she used for her art supplies.
“Look, mon amour,” Xavier murmured playfully to Regina. “More columns.”
Evangeline glanced up from her drawing. “More places for you to steal kisses, no?”
“Evangeline!” Regina blushed, the color disappearing beneath the light blue turban she wore.
“You are newlyweds. No one will begrudge you a private moment of affection.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Now, off with you both. I cannot concentrate with you hovering.”
As the sun warmed her back, a fine sheen blanketed her body. Sir Jonathan had been correct about the heat. It was definitely hotter than it had been yesterday. Even the salty breeze off the sea provided little relief, which likely accounted for the lack of fellow travelers at the site.
She was happy there wasn’t a crowd like there had been at the Agora. In the distance, the Parthenon presided over the city, high on the hillside. She could make out the silhouettes of a few tourists against the white marble and sighed happily.
Since she was a little girl, she had dreamed of leaving England to visit faraway lands. She had been enraptured whenever Uncle Charles sent letters from his adventures, sitting still on the tufted stool while Mama read them aloud. Now, here she was.
She lowered her head and focused on her rendering. Her hand flew over the paper as inspiration seized her. She nearly had the roof completed when she felt a tingling at the back of her neck. She looked up, searching for Regina and Xavier, but they were still out of sight.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Setting her sketchbook aside, she stood, shading her eyes as she turned a slow circle. She was alone.
“Are you finished?” Regina called.
Evangeline looked over her shoulder to find her sister and brother-in-law returning. Xavier’s arm was around her waist, and she was beginning to look wilted again. Perhaps the heat was too much to handle after being ill.
“I am,” she said. “I can add details back at the villa.”
For the next two days, they settled into a routine: Regina and Xavier sparring in the morning, a midday outing to one of the city’s ruins, followed by an early return so Regina could rest. And no matter where they went, the eerie sensation of being watched continued, though Evangeline could never see anyone.