Fourteen
The next day Mother Nature was determined to foil Jonathan’s plans.
An early morning rain left the streets of Athens muddy and riddled with puddles, and as the sun broke through the clouds to warm the earth, thready columns of steam rose from the ground.
He couldn’t imagine Evangeline and her sister willingly tromping through the muck or bearing up to another sultry day.
Perhaps he could distract them with cards in the library while Dom searched their quarters.
Dom could look in her bag, too. It was risky, but Jonathan was running out of time.
Last night, Xavier had mentioned not wanting to be a burden to Dom when they spoke alone, and that they would be leaving in two weeks.
Maybe Evangeline would want him to read more of his book, though that might not entice her sister and brother-in-law to leave their sitting room.
Jonathan was still considering which methods of distraction he might use as he approached the door to their quarters.
As he raised his fist to knock, the door flew open and Evangeline burst through the threshold, her smile stunning.
It was like being caught in a blinding sunbeam; he could see nothing else.
“Sir Jonathan, good morning. I thought that might be you that I heard in the corridor. Shall we set off?”
With lips parted in surprise, he took in her lightweight lavender muslin gown and sturdy boots. A white handkerchief dotted with violets covered ginger-kissed hair that had been gathered at her nape in a messy knot.
“Sir Jonathan, I asked if you are ready to go.”
He looked into the empty sitting room. “I am, but is your family ready?”
“Xavier has stepped out, and Regina is still asleep.” She stepped into the passage, closing the door behind her. “I left her a note.”
“Erm…” He glanced around the corridor. They were very alone. “Sh-should we postpone until we secure a chaperone?”
“Why would two colleagues require a chaperone? Besides, we are far from prying eyes.”
“I, eh…”
She had a valid point. If no one of consequence was there to bear witness, was it truly scandalous?
“Come, Hackberry. We will lose good light if we dally.”
She jostled past him, briskly walking along the corridor with her bag swinging.
“Wouldn’t you like refreshments before we go?” he asked.
“Not hungry.”
“We should at least fill our water skins first. Let me retrieve them. I will meet you at the cistern.”
When he made his way to the courtyard, she was shading her eyes and gazing toward an upper window of the villa across the service lane. A woman with jet black hair and a soft round face stood at an open window.
“We have another warm day ahead, haven’t we, Mrs. Li?” Jonathan called.
The neighbor woman’s mouth thinned. She turned away and closed the shutters.
“Friendly neighbors?” Evangeline asked tongue-in-cheek.
“I thought so, but it appears I was mistaken. Perhaps Dr. Li is away and doesn’t appreciate her speaking with strange gentlemen.”
She grinned. “Or the doctor’s wife doesn’t know what to make of me traipsing about with no regard for the heat. And you are not all that strange.”
“No?” He chuckled. “Perhaps we are too alike to notice our peculiarities.”
“That is a hypothesis,” she shot back, clearly not believing it.
His fondness for her bloomed in his chest, expansive and tingling. She always left him with a sense that she understood him.
He held out his hand to her. “Will you allow me to lighten your burden?”
“Normally, I would insist on carrying my own supplies,” she said, passing him the bag and lifting her parasol higher to share the shade, “but you’re empty-handed, and I assume you meant what you said about forming an equal partnership.” She raised her eyebrows for emphasis.
“I would never claim credit for your work, Miss Darlington. Would you like our agreement in writing?”
“A handshake will suffice.” She thrust out her gloved hand. The unexpectedness of her unladylike gesture caught him off guard. He hesitated before clasping hands and giving hers a definitive downward pump.
A lump formed in his throat. Somehow, the physical contact felt binding, as if he had spoken a vow before God. The warmth of her touch lingered on his palm after he withdrew his hand.
“Are you certain your uncle won't mind you lending your expertise to another antiquarian?” he asked, hoping she might allow him a reprieve. He would find another way to fulfill his duty to his King.
She waved off his concern. “My uncle only cares if my sisters and I are happy, and I’m pleased with our arrangement, at least until he and I are reunited.”
He touched her back to guide her out of the path of a serious-looking Turk stalking their way. His large white headdress designated him as a man of high rank. He swept by without affording them a glance.
“Thank you,” Evangeline said in clipped tones, her spine stiffening.
Jonathan dropped his hand. “Sorry,” he muttered.
At her suggestion, they were headed for the Ancient Agora first so she could sketch the Acropolis in the distance.
“I thought I would have you do several sketches from different angles throughout the day,” he said. “Later, we will compile them into a single drawing, unless you have a better suggestion.”
“No, I agree with that approach.”
When they arrived at the Ancient Agora, she walked the perimeter, presumably searching for the best vantage point to begin her drawing. “This temple is believed to be older than the Parthenon, but there is speculation it was the same architect.”
“You’ve done your research,” Jonathan said.
“Mm-hmm.” She found a large flat-topped rock, and once she was seated, she extended a hand toward him, her attention solely on the hill. “Charcoals and sketchbook, please.”
Jonathan gave a small start and eagerly dug into her bag, but he only found the items she requested.
Suppressing a sigh, he sat next to her. She didn’t speak as the Parthenon took shape. It was like fog drifting away to reveal the temple column by column.
He studied her profile and the slight purse of her lips. “Am I bothering you?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Sorry.” He slid from the rock. “Should I stand over there?”
“Stay.” She patted the place beside her, and he resumed his seat. “It makes no difference where you sit. You are going to bother me. It’s effortless on your part.”
He recoiled. “Bother you how? What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Neither could he. She had invaded his thoughts for hours, torturing him. Before he’d succumbed to exhaustion near dawn, everything became clear. Evangeline Darlington was the most bloody perfect woman he had ever encountered, and she couldn’t be further from his reach.
She slapped the charcoal against the paper, trapping it beneath her hand and turning toward him.
He couldn’t catch his breath. Her eyes were the loveliest shade of blue.
They were clear and kind, free of pretense.
Whenever he looked into her eyes, he remembered what it was like to be optimistic about the future.
“I realize these things should not be discussed, sir, but if we are working together, I think it is best to leave no room for misunderstanding.”
He inclined his head, silently encouraging her to continue even though he suspected he was being scolded for touching her familiarly in the street. It had been instinctual, but he must remember his place.
“Did I imagine it?” she asked.
“Imagine what?”
Spots of color stained her cheeks, but she didn’t avert her gaze. “Did you almost kiss me last night?”
He inhaled sharply. Her boldness was heady and drove him to be as honest with her as he dared.
“Do you want a truthful answer, Miss Darlington?”
“I believe so.”
She traced her fingertips along the gentle curve of her collarbone in a nervous gesture that was sweetly inviting.
He longed to drop a trail of kisses on the same path her hand traveled, to lick the hollow at the base of her throat and continue his exploration of her graceful neck before tenderly capturing her earlobe between his teeth.
As if she could read his thoughts, she caressed her neck and toyed with her ear.
“I’ve never wanted to kiss any woman as badly,” he admitted.
Her eyes widened. He rushed on before he lost the nerve to be as honest as she. “The moonlight was falling softly across your hair and skin, and when I looked into your eyes, I forgot where we were. I forgot who I was. For a few glorious seconds, I believed I was in the presence of an angel.”
She stared at him with lips parted. He held his breath, awaiting her reaction to the truth. Had she felt it too? A magnetic force that drew them to each other?
“Good heavens, Sir Jonathan. What a load of rubbish.”
He flinched.
She lifted her charcoal to resume sketching and shook her head, chuckling. “I thought you were a man of good sense, but I see you fall prey to romantic nonsense as easily as others.”
“I-I beg your pardon.” The minx had him sputtering.
“It was nothing more than a trick of the lighting and effects of the wine.” She laughed again. “Angel, indeed. I imagine I look human enough in the light of day.”
He scowled, uncertain if her doubts about his mentality or dismissal of her own appeal irked him more. “I see you perfectly well in any light,” he snapped.
Her hand halted, and she slanted a look at him. “I have no desire to argue. I only brought it up because I don’t want last night to affect our partnership.”
“Neither do I.”
“Splendid.”
“Excellent.”
He crossed his arms, feeling ridiculous. What did it matter if she had no romantic interest in him? They barely knew one another.
“Forgive me, Miss Darlington. I never would have considered kissing you if I had realized you wouldn’t welcome my attention. I hope we might move forward and forget my near misstep.”
“Of course,” she mumbled.
They sat in silence while she worked. The outlines of the columns and portico were complete, and she was already adding details.