Nine
“I still cannot believe Sir Jonathan Hackberry is in Athens,” Evangeline whispered to her sister as they followed the men toward the Theater of Herodes Atticus.
“You’re beginning to sound like Lady Loxley’s parrot.”
“George,” they said together and laughed.
Evangeline supposed she had been repeating herself a lot since their arrival in Athens, but it truly was a boon to have found a fellow antiquarian with a specialty that fit nicely with her own interests.
“It’s exciting to share thoughts with a like-minded individual,” she said. “Other than Uncle Charles, most men don’t take me seriously. I cannot help thinking that I’m dreaming.”
Regina smirked. “My offer to pinch you still stands.”
“What a peach you are, and again, no thank you.”
Xavier and Sir Jonathan reached the sun-bleached stone stairs and began the descent.
Centuries had ravaged the amphitheater, making the path to the stage treacherous.
Evangeline admired the way Sir Jonathan navigated the ruins with the confidence and grace of someone who had done it a thousand times.
Regina leaned her head close to Evangeline’s as if trying to view him from the same angle. “The gentleman isn’t what I imagine when I picture an antiquarian,” her sister said. “I thought he would be older and silver-haired.”
“Like Uncle Charles?”
“Maybe.”
Evangeline had believed the same, and she was pleasantly surprised to have been wrong.
Uncle Charles had never introduced any of his colleagues to their family.
He preferred a reclusive life when he was home.
He loved Aunt Beatrice, his nieces, and his godson Crispin.
Everyone else could go hang. Was it any wonder Evangeline and her sister thought all antiquarians were distinguished older gentlemen?
“Your Sir Jonathan is very handsome,” Regina whispered.
He halted on the stairs long enough to glance over his shoulder. Evangeline waved; he smiled.
“He seems to be taken with you,” Regina said. “Have you noticed how he looks for you every few minutes like he is afraid you might vanish?”
“He isn’t my Sir Jonathan. I admire his intellect. Nothing more.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Are you coming, Regina?” Xavier called from the foot of the stairs, his voice echoing in the amphitheater. “Wait there. I will assist you.”
He sprinted up a few stairs before Regina stopped him.
“You two go ahead,” she yelled. “I’m feeling a bit winded.”
Xavier’s brow furrowed.
“I only need a moment’s rest. Evangeline will sit with me.”
The tense lines around his mouth melted away. His nod was slight—Evangeline would have missed it if she had blinked—and something unspoken hung in the stifling air.
Sir Jonathan spoke too softly to be heard at the top of the amphitheater. Xavier shook his head.
“Please, don’t mind us,” Regina said. “Enjoy the sights.”
Sir Jonathan hesitated, his gaze sweeping the landscape. Evangeline looked over her shoulder and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Catch your breath, darling,” Xavier called and urged their new friend onward. “We won’t be long.”
When the men turned away, Regina sighed and pulled an ivory fan from her reticule. Her cheeks were scarlet, and she looked tired around the eyes, her usual sparkle dimmed.
“For heaven’s sake, Gigi, you look like you might collapse. Why didn’t you speak up sooner?”
“You are fussing over me.”
“And I can if I want.” Evangeline clasped her sister above the elbow and guided her toward a wedge of shade created by one of the walls. “You are too stubborn by half.”
Regina scoffed but sat in the shade without arguing. Evangeline dropped her bag at their feet and sat beside her. Regina closed her eyes, fanning her face.
Evangeline scolded herself for dragging her on today’s excursion.
They had been outside in the heat every day since their arrival, and she had underestimated the toll it would take on Regina.
She still wasn’t fully recovered from their journey.
Her older sister seemed invincible sometimes, and Evangeline forgot she was human like the rest of them.
“Maybe we should send for a doctor,” Evangeline said.
“It’s unnecessary.” When Regina’s cheeks faded to a less concerning shade of pink, she rested the fan on her lap. “I promised to broach a certain topic with you tonight, but perhaps I should take advantage of our time alone and talk with you now.”
Evangeline’s mouth grew dry. Something was wrong. As a myriad of potential problems zipped through her mind, she began gathering possible solutions. “Are you certain you’re not ill?”
“I’m as healthy as I have ever been. Why do you keep harping on this?”
“Because you don’t look well.”
“I’m flattered,” Regina said flatly, then reached for Evangeline’s free hand and squeezed her fingertips. “Xavier thinks we should settle on a date to return home.”
“Already?” She pulled her hand free. “Is this Xavier’s suggestion or yours? Because if you’re worried about Sophia and Aunt Beatrice getting on without you—”
“No, it isn’t about them, I promise. I miss our sister and Auntie, but I know they don’t really need me.”
Evangeline narrowed her eyes, and her sister laughed.
“For now, anyway,” Regina conceded. “They are in good hands with Crispin, and I believe he enjoys playing the protector.”
“Perhaps too much. Sophia might never forgive you for enlisting his help watching over them.”
Regina shrugged, clearly not concerned. Crispin, Viscount Margrave, butted heads with their younger sister, but he was an old family friend and loyal.
Even after he gave his word to look after Sophia and Aunt Beatrice, Evangeline was surprised Regina surrendered the responsibility.
She had been acting as everyone’s self-appointed protector and caregiver for as long as memory served.
“What about Uncle Charles?” Evangeline asked. “We haven’t tried searching for him beyond calling at the lodging house.”
“I know you had hoped to join him in the field, but we have no way of knowing how long he’ll be gone.”
“We have only been here a week.”
“I’m not suggesting we leave tomorrow,” Regina said, “but we have been away longer than anticipated.”
Only because they had lingered in Brighton much longer than Evangeline had hoped. But it had been important for Xavier to see to his ward, and she couldn’t fault him for wanting to spend more time with his cousins.
Regina patted her knee. “Perhaps we should stay two weeks more.”
“But—”
“In the meantime, Xavier will continue to make inquiries into Uncle Charles’s whereabouts. Perhaps we can enlist Sir Jonathan’s assistance, too.”
Evangeline’s gaze strayed to her fellow antiquarian.
Sir Jonathan appeared to be regaling Xavier with some tale as they approached a stone archway leading backstage.
His gestures were sweeping and his expression animated.
His enthusiasm spread like a contagion. Her muscles twitched with a desire to skip down the stairs to join the conversation.
Regina slanted her head, smiling as she regarded the men. “He could be perfect for you. Surely, you must see it.”
“My interest is—”
“Academic. Yes, you have already said.” Regina reached for the parasol handle and Evangeline surrendered it. “I understand your reluctance to leave Athens, but don’t you think Uncle Charles would have found us by now if he were still here?”
“He wouldn’t have gone far without his belongings,” Evangeline said. “He is forgetful at times, but he would never leave behind his trunk.”
“Maybe you are right.” Her sister caught her bottom lip between her teeth, her amber gaze darting toward her husband. “I hope nothing has happened to him.”
Evangeline patted Regina’s knee and said with authority, “Uncle Charles will make an appearance as soon as he needs to resupply.”
“I suppose…” Regina cocked her head. “Have you made any sense of the scribbles you found?”
“Not yet. It isn’t any language I’ve ever seen.”
Evangeline sighed and contemplated the jumble of letters that filled every page of the journal she’d recovered from the false bottom of their uncle’s trunk. She’d found a scrap of paper with similar markings shoved into an old travel journal at Wedmore House a few months earlier.
“Do you believe it could be ancient writing?” Regina asked. “Perhaps words inscribed on something too large to move?”
“It is possible.” Though Evangeline wasn’t convinced. “His entries make use of the Latin alphabet, but the structure doesn’t follow any of the rules. I’m not a linguist, though. I might be missing something.”
“I could ask Xavier to make inquiries. Perhaps there is a local expert willing to examine the journal.”
“I don’t think it would be helpful,” Evangeline said. “I am entertaining the idea that Uncle Charles created a code that only he understands.”
“Whatever for?”
Evangeline shrugged. “To hide the nature of his work? You know how secretive he can be.”
“Unfortunately, I do. He won’t be pleased when he returns to Wedmore House to find an army of new servants he had no hand in selecting.”
“No hand in interrogating is more like it.”
Gravel crunched close behind them. Evangeline and her sister bolted from the ledge and whirled to face an intruder. Regina snapped the parasol closed, thrusting it toward him like a fencing blade.
“Aim for his tender bits,” Evangeline blurted. It was the main lesson she remembered from Uncle Charles’s training.
An insolent smile distorted the silvered scar intersecting the man’s top lip. His frigid stare raised the hair on the back of Evangeline’s neck. She moved closer to her sister and tossed a glance toward the stage. Xavier and Sir Jonathan had disappeared.
“Don’t be alarmed, ladies.” He held his hands out at his sides. His voice was cultured, smooth like a smoky Bordeaux, and insincere. She disliked him on sight. “As you can see, I’m unarmed.” He took a step closer.
“Stay where you are!” Regina jabbed the air, maintaining a fighting stance. “This is your only warning. We will defend ourselves.”
“Why are you sneaking about?” Evangeline’s legs trembled even as she spoke with bravado. “What do you want?”
“I am on the hunt,” the man said with an alarming gleam to his eyes.
“For what prey?” Regina bit out.
He chuckled; his face glistened with sweat. “Aren’t you a couple of feisty birds?”
“Poaching isn’t permitted on sacred ground,” Evangeline said logically, using the only weapon she knew how to wield with any skill. “The punishment is severe."
“I hadn’t realized.” He pulled a handkerchief from his jacket and mopped his brow, the smirk never leaving his face. “Fortunately, my prey, as you call it, is two-legged and has a name. Ah, there he is now.”
He lifted a hand, his gaze fixed on the stage.
“Are you referring to Sir Jonathan?” Evangeline asked.
She glanced over her shoulder; her breath quickened. Sir Jonathan was charging up the stairs like a sure-footed ram ready to defend his rock. His tranquil eyes had transformed into a stormy blue-gray beneath strong, thick brows. The stagnant air sizzled as he drew closer with his fists clenched.
“Move,” Regina hissed and herded her further away.
Evangeline’s brother-in-law, teeth bared, was no more than a few steps behind Sir Jonathan.
The intruder’s demeanor didn’t change. Either he failed to recognize the threat of violence or he was unconcerned. “Hackberry, did you forget about me?”
Sir Jonathan was upon them, looming over the man even though there wasn’t much difference in their heights. Xavier placed himself in front of Regina and Evangeline as if to shield them. Incapable of tearing her attention away from Sir Jonathan, Evangeline peered around her brother-in-law.
“What are you doing here?” Sir Jonathan barked.
A nonchalant shrug preceded another sardonic smile as the other man slapped dust from his jacket. “You said I should meet you at the Parthenon. Have I come on the wrong day?”
Sir Jonathan remained tense, fists at his sides, even after he stepped back. “No, of course. I forgot we were meeting today."
Another antiquarian, Evangeline concluded. She aimed a quick frown in her sister’s direction, annoyed she had allowed Regina’s paranoia to infect her.
“Sir Jonathan,” she said brightly, attempting to erase the poor first impression she must have made. “Please, won’t you introduce your colleague?”