Page 31 of Dukes for Dessert

“Palatial compared to mine,” David said as he struggled in, breathless from his load of cases. “I’m in a closet under the rafters. How you fit a bed up there, Pierson, I have no idea.”

“It was here when I arrived,” Uncle answered without worry. “Are these the photographic apparatus? How exciting.”

Eleanor made Mrs. Corcoran happy by going off with her, her effusions of gratitude floating back to them. Uncle hovered over the cases, and David straightened up, pushing his hair from his face. He winked at Sophie, and in spite of Sophie’s nervousness, she wanted to laugh.

Somehow, the duchess and all her equipment was settled, and she shared a brief luncheon with them before they trooped out to look at the mosaic. Sophie had assumed the woman would want to rest the remainder of the day and perhaps be carried to the site on a litter with a host of servants by her side. Silly, yes, but Sophie hadn’t known what to expect.

What she discovered was that Eleanor was a fairly normal human being, who’d grown up penniless, in spite of being an earl’s daughter, and appeared at home in the misty countryside. At luncheon she’d steered the conversation to archaeology, getting Uncle to tell her not only about the villa, but other things he’d dug up in the past. By the time the meal was finished, Uncle was besotted, and Eleanor eager to see the mosaic.

The four walked out, each carrying a case of photographic equipment. The day was gray, but a luminous glow seemed to surround the field.

“A most excellent specimen,” Eleanor proclaimed as she gazed down at the tiled floor. “The artistry is remarkable, is it not? A piece from so far in the past, and yet we can touch it in the present.” She let out a happy sigh. “Now then, it will be a challenge to photograph in this light. Miss Tierney, if you don’t mind, I will need your help with reflectors and such. Dr. Pierson, you ought to also have an artist sketch this. Why not David? He draws like an angel.”

“Do angels draw?” David asked in his lazy way. “I wouldn’t think they’d have the time, what with all the harping and having to look after sinners like me.”

“You know what I mean. If you do not have a sketch pad and pencils, procure some, please. The photos might not turn out, but a very good drawing will preserve this mosaic for all time. Like the Description de l'Égypte by Napoleon’s savants.”

David looked dismayed. “I’m not certain my draftsmanship is up to theirs.”

“No matter. It will be good enough. Now, may I go down? Miss Tierney, will you accompany me?” Eleanor scrambled into the hole with only Uncle’s hand to guide her.

Sophie wouldn’t dream of remaining on solid ground while the duchess dropped into the dirty cave. She began to follow, then started when a pair of strong hands caught her around the waist.

She looked up into David’s face, too close, his eyes briefly meeting hers. He lifted her, then set her gently down on the edge of the mosaic. Sophie caught Eleanor’s glance and the hint of her smile before the duchess turned away.

“Mmm.” Eleanor gazed about, careful not to step directly on the tiles. “Reflectors, definitely. We’ll have to beam light here, and here.” She pointed. “David will have to help. He can work hard, contrary to the indolent nature he displays.”

“I do hear you, El,” David said from above.

“It’s rather foolish of him, this decadent man-about-town he insists upon portraying, when very few work longer hours or do more than Mr. Fleming. And then he gazes at one in astonishment when praised for his accomplishments.”

“I’ll be returning to London, I think.” David’s tone was pained. “Then you can talk me over to your heart’s content while I sip brandy in my warm and comfortable club.”

“Nonsense, I need you here to hold things.” Eleanor dusted off her hands. “I will have to ponder how to arrange my gear, but for now, I believe a cup of tea for us all will be best.”

The bulk of David’s body blocked the light as he bent over the hole. “Do you mean we lugged all this out here only to lug it back again?”

“Of course not,” Eleanor said, her blue eyes wide. “We can store it in Dr. Pierson’s shed. But the light is too bad today, and shooting into this hole will be tricky. We might as well have a nourishing cup of tea while we make plans. Help us out, will you, gentlemen?”

Sophie could only admire how Eleanor mustered the troops. Within minutes, the equipment was stored, and they strolled back to the vicarage.

Eleanor, her arm firmly through Sophie’s, slowed her steps, letting the gentlemen surge ahead. When David hesitated to wait for them, Eleanor waved him off. David’s expression turned wary, but he walked on, catching up to Uncle Lucas who was bent on the warm vicarage and tea.

“Now then, my dear,” Eleanor began. “I doubt we’ll have much time to ourselves, so you must tell me everything immediately.”

Sophie wet her lips, which the wind had dried. “Everything about what, Your Grace? I mean, Lady Eleanor.”

Eleanor gave her a patient look. “You know exactly what I mean. Your marriage, your divorce, why David is meddling in it, and what you think of him. I see the way you look at him, so it is obvious to me what is in your head, but I want to hear it from your lips. Are you in love with him?”

Sophie jerked to a halt. “In love?” she stammered. “How can I be? I barely know him.”

“The heart does not always wait for such practical things. When I first met Hart Mackenzie, I told myself he was an arrogant, high-handed wretch who thought too much of himself and needed to be kicked squarely in the backside. I was right, of course, but at the same time, I fell hopelessly in love with him. Common sense told me to turn a cold shoulder, but my inconvenient emotions urged me to smile at him and kiss him silly at the first opportunity. Ah, my dear, I see your blush. You already have kissed David silly.”

The duchess’s very perceptive gaze made Sophie’s face go hotter.

“Not deliberately,” she managed.

“It was indeed deliberate, my dear. If you’d found David repugnant, you’d have punched him in the nose and marched away, demanding your uncle turn him out for the scoundrel he is. That means David kissed you, and you did not mind.”

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