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Authors: Allison Lane

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“Or the space between buildings. Or a place where the floor is gone – trees don’t do well in shallow soil, which means most of this clearing is either paved or thick with rubble.”

She shrugged.

“I apologize for snapping at you, Miss Merideth,” he said, turning her to face him, then dropping his hands when her expressive eyes stirred new traces of lust. “I am accustomed to digging alone, with at most a single servant to help. It will take me a day or two to get used to having another antiquarian around. That in no way reflects on you. It merely exposes my habit of slipping into brown studies so I forget whom I am addressing.”

“As do I.” She smiled. “Do you really think the entire clearing is paved?”

“Perhaps. The closer stone is to the surface, the smaller the plants that grow above it. Look at the hills. They are composed of rock with a thin layer of soil, supporting only grasses and shrubs. But the valley is richer, capable of sustaining trees – except here.”

“Obvious, now that you’ve pointed it out. But if part of that hill collapsed, much of the fall must have been rock. So perhaps the villa is smaller than you think.”

“I doubt it. Whatever rock fell from the hill would have spread from its base at least as far as the stream. Yet we are surrounded by forest – except here. From that, I conclude that the rock from the fall is well mixed with soil or at least is sufficiently broken that roots can find a way through.” He shivered, for the words reminded him that a lack of trees might mean the floors remained intact.

“Excellent point. As for the other test holes, I found a foundation just there.” She pointed to a depression ten feet away. “And another over here.” A frown creased her forehead. “Why would someone build a villa this large in so isolated a place?”

“It is too soon to tell how big it was. And there would have been outbuildings – granaries, barns, stables. Someone who owned the entire valley could support a large villa – Vale House is larger, for example, and there are other Roman sites this size.” He raised his brow.

She immediately pounced on his exaggeration. “One other. Singular. Near Severston. But it was inhabited and expanded for centuries, eventually running to six wings, the last two built by Saxons, one only a century before William the Conqueror destroyed it.” She gestured. “If this was buried during the Roman era, there would have been no time for such expansion.”

“True, though we have no evidence of the rank or fortune of Severston’s various owners. Much of it may have fallen into disrepair long before the end, and it may have been of average size to begin with. One need only look at today’s estates. Linden Park has been expanded repeatedly since before Elizabeth’s reign, yet it seems tiny when compared to Blenheim Palace, which was built only a century ago.”

“Good point. So we assume it is a villa.”

“No. We keep open minds. It might be a temple complex, or even a small town. Have you dug beyond the shrine?”

She nodded. “I found nothing in two pits. Once I discovered foundations in this direction, I concentrated here.”

The clouds that had glowered all morning opened up.

Tony studied them, then shrugged. “This won’t stop any time soon. May I see your maps again?”

“Of course.” She led him back to the workroom.

An hour later, he finished his perusal. “The temple is not only built on a rise, but it is closer to the surface. Thus its hill would have been more prominent before the slide.”

“Did the Druids build their shrines on hilltops?”

“Someti—” A squeal interrupted his response. Surprised – Miss Merideth had claimed that the wing was unused – he opened the door.

A maid clung to a very red-faced Jon, her mouth nuzzling his neck as she pulled his head lower. The neck of her gown hung open, exposing one breast. His hands dug into her hips.

 

Chapter Five

 

Tony frowned as Miss Merideth squeezed past him into the hall.

“Were you looking for me, Mary?” she asked the maid, her voice dripping ice.

Jon’s face turned even redder.

The girl jumped aside, hands frantically straightening her gown. Her mouth opened, but she contented herself with nodding.

Tony nearly chuckled. Obviously Mary had not realized anyone else was here. Had she intended to poke through Miss Merideth’s workroom, or had she merely followed the rakish Mr. Linden, looking for a little slap and tickle? He would stake anything that Jon’s hands had not undone her gown.

“Well?” Miss Merideth’s voice could freeze water.

“C-cook wants to know how many for dinner. And Mr. Murch was askin’ for you.”

“I will show Linden the garden,” said Tony. Miss Merideth would be occupied for some time. At the very least, she must report this incident to Miss Vale, for he suspected the girl was stretching the truth. And he needed to discuss the change in plans with Jon.

Miss Merideth flashed him a grateful smile before accompanying the maid away.

Tony remained silent until they were well beyond the house. Jon’s color had faded back to green.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he finally asked. “I cannot imagine that Simms let you up. You look like death incarnate.”

Jon groaned. “This was all his fault, so I sent him away. He added brandy to that posset last night, though I’d been very specific about what to put in it.”

He would have to speak to the man. Simms had definite ideas about treating ailments, but he must accept that Jon could not tolerate wine.

“And I had to get out of that room before the smell set me going again,” Jon finished with a shudder.

“I trust you will refrain from drinking for the remainder of our stay.”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. Now suppose you explain why you were mauling the maid. You are overplaying your role.”

“I did nothing,” protested Jon. “The girl attacked me!”

“You didn’t look unwilling.” But he couldn’t help grinning. Jon needed to broaden his horizons.

He blushed. “I was
trying
to pry her loose.”

“Why? She’d make a comfortable armful.”

“How can you say that?”

“Experience. I’m not a rake, but neither am I a saint. If a willing wench throws herself into my arms, I see no need to shove her aside.”

Jon choked, stamping away, then back.

“Is there something about her I don’t know?”

“She’s touched in the head.”

Tony turned a laugh into a cough.

Jon glared. “I was exploring the house, choosing the older areas so I would not meet anyone, but she must have followed me. Before I even knew she was there, she shoved my hand down her— her—” He couldn’t force the word out. “Then she grabbed me around the neck and kissed me!”

“A serious indiscretion, to be sure.” Hilarity threatened his composure. Jon’s outrage was priceless, but laughter would not improve his temper. “Consider this an opportunity to expand your education, Cousin. She is no different than a hundred other maids eager to increase their vails, and she looks like she’d show you a rollicking good time. I’ve met her sort before. Think of it as one of the benefits of being a rake.”

“I couldn’t.” His face had paled alarmingly.

“Relax, Jon. If you are not interested, simply tell her so.”

“How?” A new blush spread across his face.

“Claim you are doing penance for a life of sin.” It was time to change the subject, before Jon either swooned or cast up his accounts from all this emotion. “You need not play your role so blatantly. In fact, now that we’ve established you as a boorish lout who revels in light-skirts, you can become more genteel. An occasional lapse will keep up your image. But I’ve arranged for us to remain indefinitely, so you must do nothing to change Miss Vale’s mind.”

“How did you manage that? I was sure that we would be gone today after you revealed our purpose last night.”

“You revealed it. I merely covered for you.”

“Yes, well…” He again flushed. “So why are they letting us stay. They must know we are after Linden Park.”

“Undoubtedly. Miss Merideth is smarter than most men. She probably divined our purpose the moment she heard the Linden name.”

“Yet she agreed to keep us here? She hovers over Miss Vale like a mother hen.”

“I noticed.” It was an apt description. Miss Merideth was a foot taller than her employer. “I had to promise that you would behave, so perhaps you should overdo the pious act tonight. Make a show of not drinking. Move a table between your chair and Miss Vale’s. Prove that you are determined to behave, but that good behavior is so unusual, you don’t trust yourself.”

Jon groaned.

“How hard can that be?”

He groaned louder. “If this stomach doesn’t settle down, I won’t be joining you tonight.” He swallowed several times. “At least tell me how you are keeping us here.”

“That was easy. Miss Merideth is excavating a Roman temple. She recognized me as Anthony Torwell and begged me to help. The woman has read every word I’ve written and has her site organized exactly like mine. She’s incredible. Even Mitchell is more interested in treasure than study.”

“She sounds like your sort of female.”

He stifled his instinctive agreement. “Hardly. I’m merely flattered by her interest. And the site is breathtaking. I’ve never had access to a better one.”

“Just don’t forget why we are here.”

“Never. I cannot allow Father’s stupidity to hurt Mother. Miss Merideth is no different than any other student confronted by a potential mentor. She is anxious to learn as much as possible, but few books exist on the subject, so only personal contact will further her education. If playing tutor gives me an opportunity to court Miss Vale properly, without rushing, then I will teach Miss Merideth whatever she wants to know.”

Jon nodded, but his face remained dubious.

“It will work,” he insisted, suppressing the image of her awed face when she’d realized his identity. He must not let the adoration go to his head, for she would have reacted the same way toward Mitchell or any other antiquarian who walked into her drawing room. “But you must be careful. Do you recall anything of Miss Vale?”

“Not much. She pulled away whenever possible, and Miss Merideth kept distracting me. I doubt the woman believed anything I said, though. Her mind is as sharp as yours.”

“But she will ascribe any mistakes to drunkenness – she harbors no illusions about your condition last night. Miss Vale is more conventional. If anything, she is shyer than I expected. And warier. I doubt she is accustomed to a gentleman’s attention. Sir Winton probably keeps her out of sight when he’s entertaining. His friends are not above plucking so pretty a blossom when in their cups. I think you scared her.”

Jon paled.

“That was not a complaint, for it accomplished our purpose. But now that we have established your identity, we must avoid pushing too hard,” he continued. “Play the rake just enough to avoid suspicion, but she has only a companion her own age for protection, so do nothing that might ruin her in the eyes of society.”

“You will be there to keep me on the right path.”

“In the evenings. I will be out most days.”

“Out?” He shook his head. “Of course, you will be out. And Miss Merideth with you. So how can she chaperon Miss Vale?”

“Damn!” He paced the garden, running his hands through his hair. “You will have to avoid her during the day.”

“How?”

“You can always help with the digging.”

“You must be joking. You know I have no interest in buried treasure.” His brow furrowed. “But who will chaperon you if I don’t? Miss Vale can hardly join you.”

This was getting too complicated. “We need no chaperon. No one will think twice about an antiquarian vicar assisting a paid companion, assuming they even hear of it. She is keeping the project a secret. As for Miss Vale, surely a neighbor lady can join us for a few days. I just hope it isn’t anyone I know.”

Jon stripped the leaves from a branch. “You could always tell the truth.”

“And get us tossed out on the road? Miss Vale is sweet enough to sympathize with Mother’s plight, but Miss Merideth would never stand for such a deception. I have a sinking feeling that her opinions carry a great deal of weight.” He sighed, recalling how the maid had brought the household problems to her. She probably oversaw the staff, for he’d seen no evidence of a housekeeper. “Damn me for a fool. Why the devil did I ever create that plagued reputation?”

“I can’t blame you entirely,” said Jon, leading the way toward the house. “Uncle Robert’s strictures would try a saint – and you were never a saint. Speaking of which,” he added, “watch your own tongue. What you know about the Bible wouldn’t fill half a page. I nearly exploded trying to keep a straight face last night.”

“That bad?”

“Worse.” He chuckled. “I’d swear I heard as much Shakespeare as King James.”

Heat crept up Tony’s face, for another childhood rebellion had been avoiding church. And the nunneries he visited were hardly religious enclaves. But Jon didn’t need to hear about that. “Why don’t you lie down for a while?” he said when they arrived on the terrace. “I want to check something.”

As soon as Jon was gone, he returned to Miss Merideth’s workroom for a closer look at the stones. But the carving was too abbreviated to accurately date the site. All he could say for sure was that the destruction had occurred after the reign of Diocletian and Maximian, sometime during the last century of Roman rule – unless a high-ranking Roman had remained behind when the legions departed.

* * * *

Alex ordered Mary back to work, then joined Sarah in the drawing room, staying by the window to keep an eye on their visitors. The men were strolling through the garden, deep in talk. Was Torwell chastising his cousin for dallying with a maid?

Not that Mary would object to his attentions. She was the most forward girl on the staff, often slipping off to the stables. Perhaps it was time to let her go. Heaven knew her mind was rarely on her work. Keeping her could send the wrong message to the other servants.

Yet dismissing her could cause new problems. What if she took revenge by revealing the villa?

She sighed. When she’d started this project, it had seemed simple enough. Excavating a small temple would take two, maybe three months.

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