The Scholar and the Scot Read online

And then, after, just when she was hoping for a cuddle or a kind word, he’d left. Well, he had kissed her hand—which had been quite nice—and had said some nice things before he’d taken off, but what had stood out was his wince as he’d stepped away, and how much of a hurry he’d been in to leave her.

  Although he’d intimated they’d see one another later to continue looking for the sphaera, he hadn’t returned. She’d laid down on the big bed to rest—and frankly, to bask in the aftershocks of that orgasm—and had fallen asleep. When she’d awoke, she’d been disoriented, though had still set out to find him.

  But she hadn’t seen him that afternoon, or at dinner that evening, so yes, her sleep had been fractured and anxious the night before.

  With a sigh, she pulled her spectacles from her eyes—after glancing about to ensure Ewan wasn’t nearby—and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I— I didn’t sleep well, I confess.”

  As Melanie took her turn, Charity linked her arm through Olive’s and lowered her voice. “Were you thinking about someone in particular? Or did someone keep you up all night?”

  It took a moment for her friend’s intimation to register, but instead of shock, Olive found herself chuckling. “No. He didn’t visit me last night.”

  It wasn’t until she heard Charity’s and Raina’s gasps that she realized what she’d confessed.

  “So I was right!” Charity crowed. “He is the one causing you all this consternation!”

  Abandoning her mallet, Raina threw her arm around Olive’s shoulder, almost slapping Charity in the process. “I kenned the two of ye would be perfect for one another! Why do ye think I dragged him along? As if I need a chaperone!” She scoffed. “He usually spends his summers digging in the dirt, but I told him I needed him to come to Fangfoss Manor.” Her wink was proud. “No’ just because of the archaeological site here, but because of ye.”

  Olive should likely be surprised, but she suspected she was too tired, so she offered the red-headed woman a wan smile. “Thank you,” she whispered, allowing her head to drop lightly to her friend’s shoulder.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have allowed herself to relax, because Raina sucked in a worried breath. “Lass, ye sound so dejected. Has he— Has Phin hurt ye?”

  Olive jerked upright, shaking her head as she turned so she could face Raina and convince her of her sincerity. “Oh, no! He’s the most wonderful, most interesting man! I can’t believe you never told me your own brother was Aberdeen Jones—all those hours I spent reading his stories, and you never once let on!”

  Raina shrugged. “It was his secret to tell, no’ mine. But I kenned if I got the two of ye together, eventually the truth would come out.”

  “Phineas is Aberdeen Jones?” asked Charity. “Who is Aberdeen Jones? Were you not speaking about him last Friday evening?”

  Olive and Raina both waved away the question just as Melanie skipped up.

  “Did you see that shot?” she asked, breathless. “Did you see it? You didn’t see it, did you? What are we talking about?”

  “Nothing—” Olive began, but Raina spoke over her.

  “Olive is about to tell us why she was up all night worrying if my brother is such a paragon of virtue.”

  Charity leaned toward Melanie and said in a stage whisper, “That means he did not come to her bed last night.”

  Melanie slapped their outspoken friend’s shoulder; her attention still on Olive. “He didn’t? That’s a shame.”

  “But…”

  When all three of her friends froze and leaned closer, wide-eyed, Olive realized she likely shouldn’t have brought any of this up at all. But now that she had, she was going to have to tell them about yesterday, wasn’t she?

  “Um…” Blushing, she pulled her arm from Charity’s and began to twist her fingers together in front of her. “Yesterday, he walked me back to my room after…” She didn’t want to mention Ewan’s involvement, so she shrugged and trailed off.

  “I wondered where you two had disappeared to after the river walk,” Melanie exclaimed. “It was a terrible place for a walk, but I was glad to get outside, and I remember thinking, ‘Oh, Olive is likely enjoying this,’ but when I looked around, you were gone!”

  Charity was peering knowingly at her. “He walked you back to your room and…? He kissed you?”

  Olive felt her blush climbing her neck. “I kissed him,” she whispered.

  “What else?” Raina whispered as well, leaning closer.

  “Um…” Olive peeked up at her friends. “He…uh, touched me.”

  With a quiet whoop, Charity pumped her fist into the air as the other two straightened with happy smiles.

  “And did you like it?” Melanie asked.

  Olive nodded, not certain she wanted to admit to just how much he’d touched her, and how much she’d enjoyed it.

  “But after…” She shook her head. “I didn’t see him again, all afternoon.”

  “Hmm.” Raina tapped her chin as she bent to retrieve her mallet. “He must have a good reason, Olive. He’s no’ the kind of man to abandon a woman, nae matter what they’d shared.”

  Yes, come to think of it, many of Aberdeen Jones’s Adventures had mentioned the women he’d met in foreign lands, and the help he’d given them.

  As Charity nudged Raina toward the croquet balls, Melanie offered Olive a smile. “I saw him yesterday afternoon if that helps. You know I’ve been looking for a partner? I thought he might be interested.”

  Thankfully, Olive knew exactly what kind of “partner” her friend needed and managed to tamp down the jealousy which threatened. “What did he say?”

  Melanie shrugged ruefully. “He said he didn’t think he’d been a good match, but once we’re up and running, he’d consider investing.”

  “That’s good,” Olive offered. “He’s very good with his investments. They’re what’s allowed him to go on so many adventures.”

  As Charity called out pointers to Raina—who ignored them with a rude gesture—Melanie patted Olive’s arm. “And one day, I’m certain you’ll be able to go on the same adventures. With him.”

  Melanie’s words echoed the dream Olive had been harboring, but…would it actually happen? Phineas hadn’t returned after all.

  Phineas Prince is a good man. Have a little faith!

  It was impossible to deny. And her friends were right; Phineas wasn’t the kind to abandon her, especially not after what they’d shared.

  Right?

  “Olive, do you love him?” Melanie asked.

  “I think…” Olive tipped her head back, staring once more at the roofline of Fangfoss Manor as she chewed on her lower lip and tried to lie to herself. “I think I could.”

  I think I do.

  I know I do.

  Her body still thrummed with bliss at the memory of his touch, and even now, even with how uncertain she was, she still wanted to be near him.

  “Good,” Melanie whispered, as she squeezed Olive’s arm. “You deserve it. Now, Charity has finally finished haranguing Raina, so that means it’s your turn again.”

  With a sigh, Olive nodded and slightly raised her mallet. This time, she tried to concentrate on the ball’s trajectory. The angle wasn’t that difficult, it just took a little geometrical calculation.

  “Brilliant!” Charity pumped her fist again. “I knew you could do it if you concentrated! I want Olive on my team next game.”

  As Raina snorted indelicately, Melanie turned toward the house. “Looks like a messenger.”

  The other three turned, and sure enough, a footman was hurrying toward them with an envelope on a silver platter. He directly approached Olive and gave a little bow. “A letter for you, Miss L’arbre.”

  Suddenly, Olive’s stomach felt as if she’d eaten a stone. A letter? Was it from Phineas? What was he going to tell her?

  Dear Miss L’arbre, your forward manner and lack of understanding of basic archaeological principles, such as which end of a hammer to hold, have led me to believe I would do best
to retire from Fangfoss Manor. I am heading to Nepal, where I would rather have my hair eaten by a yak than spend further time with you.

  Taking a deep breath and forcing her hands to quit shaking, she reached out and picked up the letter. Phineas wouldn’t say those sorts of things to her…would he?

  “Oh.” Her breath whooshed out all at once. “It’s from the Journal of the Society of Archaeology.”

  As Melanie gasped, Olive turned slightly to open it, catching a glimpse of Raina asking the footman a question.

  “How exciting,” Charity was burbling. “You must be so nervous. Look at me! I’m nervous, and I don’t know anything about arachnology.”

  “Archaeology,” corrected Olive in a murmur as she pulled the letter from the envelope.

  She should be nervous, but after the spike of fear she’d felt when she’d thought the letter had been from Phineas, she felt strangely hollow now.

  Quickly, she scanned the letter. Vaunted publication…pleased to offer you…should be very proud...seminal work on the subject…

  “They want my paper,” she whispered. She looked up, meeting her friends’ excited expressions. “The Journal wants to publish my paper on Roman rooflines.”

  Charity and Melanie squealed in unison and grabbed her up in a hug as Raina plucked the paper from Olive’s limp hand.

  As they danced about—Olive in shock—Raina called out, “Listen! Listen to this!” When they stopped cheering and turned to her, she read, “ ’We believe your section on the adornments of the roof ridges to be the first study of its kind, and we are thrilled to be able to claim the information will appear in our winter edition, if you are amenable.’ Then there’s some bit about payment.”

  “How wonderful!” Charity exclaimed, just as Melanie laughingly said, “I do not even know what roof ridges are!”

  Still in shock, Olive tried to explain. “The pointy part along the top. The ridge.” Numbly, she gestured toward Fangfoss Manor’s ornate eaves. “Important Roman buildings often had ornamentation…along…the…”

  A thought came to her and she trailed off, her hands dropping to her side as she stared at the ridge of the roof.

  Could it be so simple?

  Her friends hadn’t noticed her distraction, and instead were tripping over themselves to congratulate her.

  But Olive didn’t have time to crow about her success. She had to find Phineas!

  “Raina!” she interrupted. “Where can I find your brother?”

  Smiling, the redhead handed the letter back to Olive. “I can imagine ye’re anxious to share yer accomplishment with him, and I ken he’ll be thrilled to hear it!”

  Distractedly, Olive snatched the paper and began to try to fold it into the envelope. “No, no, I need…”

  “She needs him!” Charity called out with a laugh.

  Olive sent her a frown. “I had a thought— Look, it doesn’t matter!” She began to walk backward toward the manor, which only worked until she stumbled. “I’ll find him myself.”

  Chuckling, Raina jogged to catch up with her as Olive turned back to face the building. “I thought ye might want to ken, so I asked the footman. He said Phin was in the billiards room, the last he kenned.”

  Gratefully, Olive sent her friend a smile. “Thank you! I have to find him!”

  “Aye!” Raina slowed her steps and offered a knowing wave. “Good luck!”

  Olive accepted the wish with a wave of her own, then lifted her skirts and began to run. She needed to find Phineas and tell him her idea.

  And find out if he’d been avoiding her.

  Chapter 7

  The crack of an ivory ball against another filled the billiards room, sharp against the murmured conversations of men ensconced with newspapers and pipes in the far corners. This room was a bit of a masculine escape, and although it wouldn’t have been Phin’s first choice, Ash L’arbre had deposited him here with Viscount Wilton, and it would be rude to abandon the game.

  “Your go, Mr. Prince.” The stiffly proper lord inclined his head a fraction of an inch.

  “Oh, call me Phineas. Phin, even.” He stepped up to make his shot, offering the other man a grin. “No reason we cannae be friends.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Prince.” It seemed the stick up Wilton’s arse wasn’t willing to bend long enough to make friends. “And may I offer you congratulations?”

  “Oh? On what?” Phin murmured, lining up his shot.

  “On your apparent understanding with Miss L’arbre. She seems to be a perfect young lady.”

  Phin missed the shot.

  He couldn’t hide his scowl as he straightened. “We dinnae have a…”

  When he trailed off, Wilton inclined his head once more, nothing as crass as a nod. “You have spent an extraordinary amount of time with the young lady, and you spent most of yesterday afternoon ensconced with her brother. That indicates—”

  “I also met with Miss Melanie Pennypacker,” interrupted Phin, although he wasn’t sure why he cared Wilton knew his intentions. “She had a business proposition for me.”

  “A business proposition?” The other man hummed as he eyed the end of his cue stick. “I am not certain I should be surprised. She is American after all.”

  “Aye, and rich too,” Phin threw out, curious to see if it would change the man’s opinion.

  But Wilton just shrugged. “Dignity and decorum are far more noble aspirations than wealth, if you ask me.”

  Slowly, Phin began to relax, considering the man’s words. He cocked his head to one side. “I suppose I can agree money isnae everything. For me, I value the attainment of truth and the preservation of our shared past over wealth.” Although, to be fair, he spent an hour each day with his investment information just to ensure he had enough wealth to pursue his other goals.

  This time, the glance Wilton sent him seemed approving. “I am glad to hear it. Not all men here agree with you, judging how many of them are chasing after heiresses. Miss L’arbre, on the other hand, is quiet and refined. A perfect companion.”

  Phin’s brows went up as Wilton bent over the table once more, lining up his shot. He thought Olive was quiet and refined?

  Remembering the woman Raina had introduced as one of her closest friends, Phin couldn’t deny that had been his first impression as well. Olive was shy and tended to hide her thoughts behind those delightful spectacles of hers.

  But now that he knew her, Phin saw her in all of her brilliant glory. She hesitated to put herself out, aye, but once she did, her insights and extrapolations were breathtaking. He loved hearing her thoughts and loved she was so passionate about the same things he was.

  And her kisses…? Well, Wilton was sorely mistaken if he thought Olive was in any way restrained. Just the memory of what they’d shared yesterday in her room had the ability to make Phineas hard again.

  After he’d cleaned up, he’d intended to return to collect Olive to go over the excavation maps once more in the library and see if she recalled whatever it was that had been nagging at her. But her friend, Miss Pennypacker, had cornered him with her request, and he’d owed it to the woman to truly consider it.

  Once it was determined they wouldn’t suit as partners, the American woman had made a passing reference to Olive, and the fact Olive’s brother seemed to approve of Phin. The reminder had made him wince, because he’d realized he hadn’t once made his intentions clear to Ash L’arbre.

  So Phin had taken a detour to the gaming room, which had resulted in him spending hours learning to play vingt-et-un. Ash hadn’t taken too much of his money, and Phin had been surprised to discover he liked the man’s easy-going humor, almost as much as he liked Olive’s. But it meant he hadn’t had the chance to send word to her yesterday, or even this morning, because Ash had cornered him after breakfast and dragged him to the billiard room.

  Wilton finally missed a shot and straightened. As Phin stepped up to the table, the other man crossed his arms to watch. Clearing his throat, Phin attempted to make conver
sation. “So, ye’re here at Fangfoss Manor looking for the ideal mate, I assume?”

  “Indeed. Since Miss L’arbre’s attentions are clearly claimed, I have been forced to spend time with the other young ladies. Miss Pennypacker seems to be an excellent candidate for a wife.”

  Noting the “forced” comment, Phin hummed noncommittedly and made his shot.

  “I say, you are quite good at that!”

  Phin shrugged. “It’s all angles and momentum, really. See, if ye think of it as math…” He made his second strike as well.

  “Perhaps.” Wilton’s manner seemed to ease a bit. “But you shall never win if you allow yourself to be distracted so easily by conversation.”

  Chuckling, Phin aimed, and when he missed this time, his chuckles continued. Straightening, he sent a grin to his companion. “I guess ye’re right. But life is more fun with distractions, aye?”

  The way the other man’s expression appeared, it was obvious Wilton wasn’t quite certain what Phin had meant. “I am not looking for fun in my life.”

  “Really?” Phin shrugged. “Ye should try it. I imagine, with the right wife, life can be quite exciting.”

  He put just enough of a leer in his voice—and added a bit of an eyebrow waggle—to get his point across, but his companion flushed and busied himself with his shot. Determined to press the issue now, mostly because he wanted to nudge Wilton much farther away from admiring Olive, Phin adopted a speculative tone.

  “Now, the ladies who the countess has gathered here are all beautiful in their own way, aye? Several of them have already been claimed by other gentlemen, but of those who remain un-engaged…” He could tell Wilton was listening to him rather than focusing on his shot. “Miss Charity Matters seems like an interesting lass.”

  “Lady Charity Manners,” the other man corrected immediately, and Phin hid his grin, knowing now Wilton had indeed been paying attention to Charity, “is anything but interesting.”

  “Really? She seems as if she’d be fun.”

  Frowning, Wilton straightened without taking his shot. “She seems as if she’s flighty, troublesome, and completely without regards for Society’s dictates.”