The Scholar and the Scot Read online

  Slowly, she turned, a rueful twitch of her lips telling him she didn’t begrudge him the jest. “Well, since they come in pairs, the other should’ve been here at this dig site as well.”

  He shrugged, glad they were speaking professionally instead of focusing on balls, and his unruly cock, and by Zeus, that thing she did with her lower lip.

  “If it had been here, I assume the archaeologists would’ve found it. I’ve had the chance to study the dig site during our various outings—”

  “Yes, but no more than any of the rest of us, unless you snuck back out there?” She took a hesitant step toward him.

  “It’d hardly be sneaking, but nay, I’ve only been back out once besides the excursions with the group. I didnae find anything to indicate they missed the other sphaera.”

  She was chewing on her lip again, and he realized she did it when she was uncomfortable or deep in thought. In fact, she’d crossed her arms in front of her chest—which did all sorts of exciting things to the bodice of her gown, although Phin tried his gentlemanly best not to notice—and began to pace.

  “Perhaps the dig wasn’t as exhaustive as they thought. Do you have any maps of the site?”

  When she passed near him, Phin stepped in front of her, and she stopped so suddenly, blue silk swung against his legs.

  “Why do ye want maps?”

  She frowned at him in confusion. “To see the extent of the dig, and the extent of the site. Something might have been missed.”

  There was a feeling Phin had experienced more than once in his career. It was a sort of quickening of his heartbeat, a shortness of breath. Something akin to excitement twisted in his belly, and he’d known he was on the right path. It was the moment the scent of the chase really began to fill his senses, where every part of him was attuned to what was to come.

  It was the sign of the first hint, the knowing he was on a path which would lead him to holding a new, priceless artifact…or perhaps place him in terrible danger to life and limb, sometimes both, but it was an intoxicating feeling, almost as good as the final moment when he held the artifact in his hands and knew he’d won. There was a reason he kept tempting fate and risking death: for a taste of that heady feeling.

  He felt it now.

  “Ye want to help me?”

  She blinked. “Well, of course. You’ve already said you think I know a bit about Roman architecture, and it should be simple enough to search through the reports, if not the dig itself, to see if I can find a clue to the missing sphaera—”

  He likely shouldn’t have done it, but in that moment, Phin doubted he could have stopped himself. His hands were on her shoulders, then her arms, then her back…he was drawing her to him…

  Her lower lip tasted as perfect as he’d imagined.

  By Zeus, she was smart and feisty, and arousing as hell, and he didn’t think he ever wanted to let her go.

  When his lips had claimed hers for the first time, she’d stiffened. It was the fact she hadn’t relaxed which finally pierced Phin’s bubble of arousal and beat him over the head with reality.

  With a gasp, he jerked his lips away from hers.

  “I’m sorry!” He was a monster. “I’m sorry, Olive. I shouldnae have—” He shook his head, despite his arms still being around her. “I should’ve asked yer permission.”

  Her eyes were wide behind her spectacles, giving her a sort of owlish impression as she blinked slowly up at him. Her shoulders and chest were heaving as she breathed—Eyes up top, laddie—but her expression was curiously blank.

  “Olive?” he prompted again. “By Zeus, lass, I’m sorry. I shouldnae have thrust myself on ye—”

  When she slowly reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, he trailed off.

  “Phineas?” she murmured.

  His voice was hoarse with regret and control when he choked, “Aye, lass?”

  “Shut up and kiss me again please.”

  He hesitated at her command, but she didn’t. Her hands clasped his cheeks, and then she was pulling his lips down to meet hers, and by Neptune’s Trident, this kiss was—was…

  This kiss was everything.

  She was clearly untutored, but her enthusiasm more than made up for it. When he teased the seam of her lips, and they parted enough to let him in, her tongue tentatively touched his, and Phin groaned. Her fingers dug into his faint stubble, as if trying to anchor him in place, although he had no intentions of leaving her.

  Ever.

  The thought gave him pause. Surely he wasn’t thinking about a forever with a woman he’d only danced with once?

  Well, why no’? Yer tongue is in her mouth right now, or have ye no’ noticed?

  Oh, he noticed, alright.

  She was on her toes, pushing against him, making the most arousing little mewing noises, her tongue mimicking his actions closely enough to make him groan aloud again.

  Patience, laddie.

  With a gasp, he broke the contact, but wasn’t strong enough to lose her altogether, so he pressed his forehead against hers. She was breathing as heavily as he was, great heaving gasps, which mingled their breaths between them.

  He knew she could feel his cock, swollen under his kilt and pressing against her belly, but she didn’t shy away. For that matter, she hadn’t shied away from meeting him here, and she certainly hadn’t shied away from his kisses.

  “If you apologize for that, Phineas Prince, I’ll kick you in the shin.”

  It was such an unexpected threat, it caused Phin to burst into laughter. Her smile bloomed in response, and he tugged her against him, tucking her head under his chin.

  “By Zeus, lass, ye are a treasure.”

  “Because I kissed you?”

  “Because ye kissed me, and ye offered to help me, and ye have enough knowledge in yer beautiful head that I ken ye can help me, and because I like—”

  She pinched him. “You’re giving me a big head.”

  Still grinning, he dropped a kiss to the top of her perfectly sized head. “More space to store knowledge. Ye’re really willing to help me?”

  “Yes, but…” She shifted, and he could imagine her chewing on that delectable bottom lip. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

  “You’ll be all the help I need.” Thinking about that lip, and how perfect she felt in his arms, wasn’t helping his resolve. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to ruin Olive L’arbre right here in their host’s study.

  So he set her away from him, brushing a brief kiss across her lips, and pretended not to see the disappointment which flashed across her expression when she realized it wasn’t going to last any longer.

  “Phineas—”

  “Meet me in the library after breakfast tomorrow, aye? Most of this lot will still be asleep, and we can go over the maps in peace.”

  “You—you really want my help?”

  Pluto’s scepter, she really didn’t realize how incredible she was, did she?

  “Ye submitted an article on Roman rooflines to the Journal of the Society of Archaeology,” he reminded her drily. “Ye’re brilliant. Aye, I need yer help.”

  When he planted his hands on her shoulders and turned her gently toward the door, she appeared in a sort of daze. From his compliment? Or from the kisses?

  He hoped both.

  A little nudge from him was all it took to send her to the door, but she turned once she reached it and glanced back at him.

  “Tomorrow, Olive,” he reminded her. “And bring a copy of yer paper so I can read it, aye?”

  Mutely, she nodded, then took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and exited.

  It felt as if some of the light left with her.

  Exhaling, Phin stalked toward his host’s drinks cabinet, knowing he wasn’t going back to the party again this evening. As he sank down on the settee with a glass of brandy in hand, he admitted the truth.

  He didn’t just need Olive L’arbre for her architectural expertise, he needed her in his life.

 
; Possibly forever.

  Chapter 4

  Olive woke to the sound of rain on her window the next morning, but even that couldn’t dampen her spirits. Not after last night, not after that kiss! Not after the way Phineas had made her feel when he’d told her she was special.

  Not after that kiss.

  It had made her feel alive in the same way finding a new piece of source material did. No, wait…it was better than that!

  Which, up until yesterday, she hadn’t thought possible.

  Humming to herself, Olive hurried through her morning routine. Mary, the maid she’d brought to Fangfoss with her, was old enough to be her grandmother, and Olive had made it clear long ago she didn’t need help dressing or preparing for her morning, so hopefully Mary was still snoring gently upstairs.

  Once, her sister Willow had objected, but Olive had pointed out if she ever were lucky enough to see the Great Pyramid at Giza, or camp in the jungles of Borneo, she couldn’t worry about having someone else dress her, now could she?

  Only now, as she hurried downstairs, Olive was thinking about someone undressing her. She’d thought about Phineas’s hands on her last night—his tongue on her, doing the things her friends giggled about—and had touched herself, trying to recreate the feelings he’d brought her.

  Perhaps the breakfast room is not the place to be thinking about masturbation.

  Point well taken.

  He wasn’t at breakfast, and she was greatly disappointed. Had he forgotten their plans for the morning? Had he slept late? They had been awake later than usual.

  The only other person who joined her for breakfast was Clementine, who was smiling happily enough to tell Olive something rather special must’ve happened the night before.

  “Don’t tell me about it,” she warned her friend.

  Clementine startled. “Tell you what?”

  “Whatever has you humming and grinning. Don’t think I didn’t notice that happy little dance you just managed while holding a kipper.”

  “Last night, Ambrose and I—”

  Glaring, Olive clamped her hands over her ears. “La-la-la!” she shouted. “Don’t make me jealous!”

  Her friend burst into laughter, and when Olive lowered her hands, Clementine nodded her agreement. “I won’t tell you what naughtiness I got up to, and I won’t nag you into telling me why you would be jealous. Instead, we can talk about the weather.”

  In unison, they turned to the large windows to see the rain still pouring down.

  “Or perhaps we can speculate on what activities Miss Julia will force upon us indoors?” Olive murmured wryly.

  “Lady Fangfoss, I think you mean,” her friend corrected imperiously, and they both laughed as they settled down to eat.

  But Olive rushed through her meal, which Clementine teased her about, and after, Olive hurried to the library.

  He was there.

  She stopped suddenly enough for her skirts to swish around her, but he heard her and looked up with a smile.

  And, oh Zeus, but that smile did funny things to her insides.

  “Ye came,” he breathed, then shook his head, his smile turning wry. “That was stupid. Ye’re here, obviously.”

  So many times in her life, Olive had felt awkward or out of place in the company of another person. So many times, she’d seen their eyes cloud over as she spoke about things which interested her. But here was a man who could admit his own awkwardness, and she thought she might love him for that.

  Determined to show him he had nothing to feel awkward about, Olive stepped closer. “Of course I came. What are you preparing?”

  He was standing beside one of the tables, and as she approached, she saw he’d spread out charts, which were anchored down by books.

  With a little flourish, he invited her closer. “The rain doesnae look to stop anytime soon, so we have some peace. I brought out the charts and maps of the excavation Fangfoss let me access. We can see what ye think about the possibility of another golden sphaera.” He made a show of looking under her arm and behind her. “Ye didnae bring yer paper?”

  She smacked her forehead, which caused him to chuckle.

  “Oh, Phineas. I forgot! I’m sorry. I didn’t think you really wanted to—”

  Gently, he took her hand, interrupting her. “Of course I want to read it. But ye dinnae have to fetch it now; there’ll be plenty of time for that later.” He squeezed her hand. “Never doubt I’m interested in everything going on in that magnificent mind of yers, Olive.”

  She felt the blush start somewhere around her toes and work its way up past her knees, then her middle—could nipples blush? Interesting question—and her neck.

  “And I confess,” he murmured, his eyes on her lips, “I love the way ye say my name.”

  Oh.

  Oh my.

  Suddenly, he turned from her and reached for the lamp, drawing it closer to the middle of the table. She stood there, breathing heavily, her entire being focused on the memory of his fingers on hers, and watched him.

  Today he was wearing a tailored tweed suit, which made him look very much the academic. She liked the way he looked almost as much as him in a kilt. Unconsciously, her gaze dropped to his knees, and she was a little disappointed not to see any skin.

  Hussy.

  The thought made her snicker softly.

  “Well, I’m glad to see ye’re excited about all this research,” he said, shifting more lamps to the table. “Without the sun, it’ll be dark, but—”

  “It’ll be cozy,” she corrected, suddenly excited to get to work. “Tell me what we’re looking at here.”

  He watched her for a moment longer than expected, but when his chin dropped, she had the impression it was in approval. “Let’s start with this map. It’s the overall excavation.”

  And so the pair of them settled in front of the charts, bending over the table, their heads close together. Phineas pulled out a magnifying glass for her and pointed out the areas of interest as the two of them shifted around the table so they could stab excitedly at various landmarks.

  Olive had been to the ruins several times since arriving at Fangfoss and knew he had as well. They were able to compare the charts to what remained and extrapolate the rest. Phineas showed her the location of the first golden sphaera and lamented the second was likely lost to posterity.

  “Perhaps,” she murmured in agreement, “but if it wasn’t excavated with the last dig, and it’s still there, we’ll find it!”

  Eventually they settled in front of a fire one of the servants had built up, each with a pile of books spread out around them. Olive noticed she was focusing on architecture, while he was reading excavation notes from archeological digs as far away as North Africa.

  The sight was a reminder that she was sitting beside the Aberdeen Jones. And he was not only as fascinating as she’d imagined, but he was interested in her and her opinions as well! Her friends had always loved and supported her, but they had viewed her as some sort of endearing foreigner as they had no idea what she was talking about half the time.

  Phineas did.

  Phineas knew what she was talking about and was genuinely interested. He was interested in her.

  That was almost as heady a feeling as his kiss had been!

  As the rainy day wore on, others joined them in the library; some coming to read or play chess, while others popped in to pick out books, then left again. By the end of the day, Olive’s throat was sore from the time she’d spent talking with Phineas, and she was far more tired than she’d expected to be, having spent her time sitting in front of the fire.

  The following day was Sunday, and although it wasn’t raining, the clouds were threatening. Still, Phineas was one of the few who opted to venture into York for church service at the cathedral, so she joined him.

  See? I can be adventurous too!

  Part of her scoffed at the thought braving a bit of rain-dampened outerwear was going to impress Aberdeen Jones, but he offered her a bright smile
and sat beside her in the pew.

  It was difficult not to touch him, not with his warmth so close by, but Olive did her best to focus on the sermon.

  The threatened rain broke again that evening and continued for several days. Olive was used to being indoors, but for the first time ever, she begrudged the weather for keeping her from her goal.

  “Dinnae fash yerself, lass,” Phineas said with a wink as he took her hand Monday morning. “We’ll be able to investigate the dig soon enough.”

  “I know,” she sighed, shifting her grip on the rolled charts in her other hand. “I’m just anxious to compare the maps—and our theories—against the site.”

  “I ken what ye mean. There’s just something about being in situ which makes the layout of the site sort of click into place. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which way is which when ye’re looking at a chart.”

  The reminder this man has seen many archeological sites and had found glorious wonders—at risk of life and limb, no less—made her stomach flop. But the fact he was discussing this one with her, as if she were an equal, made her stomach flop in an entirely different way.

  Perhaps she just had a floppy stomach?

  Perhaps you shouldn’t have eaten that fourth rasher of bacon this morning.

  But…bacon. She wasn’t going to pass up bacon. Doing so would be immoral.

  As the day wore on, it became almost funny to see how Miss Julia—Lady Fangfoss, Olive tried to remind herself yet again—ran about, becomingly increasingly more desperate to organize activities for her guests. Since the outdoor activities weren’t possible, her poor staff were run ragged attempting to satisfy her urge to keep everyone occupied.

  “Is she always like this?” Phineas murmured to Olive as their hostess shooed them out of the library toward one of the front parlors where games were being set up.

  Olive smiled slightly as the back of his fingers brushed against hers as they walked. “She used to be worse. Perhaps marriage has mellowed her?”

  He whispered something which sounded like, “Zeus protect us,” which made her smirk.