“So do I, sir,” Augustus said, wishing he could meet the woman who gave Rose life.
Benjamin chuckled. “My little girl is to be a duchess.”
“She is already so much more than that.”
A gleam of respect appeared in the man’s eyes as he studied Augustus. “I suspect you do, at least, understand her.”
“May I see her?”
Benjamin grinned at him. “She hasn’t arrived but should be here in three days.”
Disappointment flared in him. How had he beaten her here? The man stood and smacked him on his back. “Don’t fret. You traveled all the way here. What are a few more days?”
“True,” he mumbled, still disappointed.
Striding to a table, Benjamin poured them both brandy and handed him one. “To your impending betrothal.”
Augustus took a sip of the drink as Rose’s father stated, “I will summon a priest immediately.”
He choked on the liquor, and the man grinned at him. “Is that a problem?”
Rose’s father wasn’t even trying to conceal his pushiness—honestly, Augustus didn’t care. He smiled at his future father-in-law. “I will marry her in three days, three months, or three years; whenever she will have me. I will spend as long as I need to convince her we are meant to be.”
“Hmm…for some reason, I think she will be willing. I imagine dukes don’t usually venture out of England, across a sea, and through a desert unless they are sure about a woman’s feelings.
Augustus may have been an idiot before, but no more. He was certain. “I am.”
Calvert nodded and reached for a rolled-up paper, unfurling it on the table between them. “What do you know about the history of Syria?”
“Not much, but I’m willing to learn,” Augustus said.
A grin spread across the man’s face. “That is the perfect answer.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rose had neverbeen so excited to see the excavation camp, and she was equally determined to leave it as soon as possible. Perhaps she could stay three or four days at the most. She suspected her father would want to return to London with her if only to gloat that he was right about her going to the city.
She briskly walked to her father’s tent with Thomas on her heels. She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t have to join me.”
He snickered. “I wouldn’t miss your father’s screech of victory for anything.”
She snorted but pulled the net meshing back to find her father scribbling on a piece of paper. He looked up, and his eyes filled with delight. She’d missed him, even though he drove her crazy. Rose raced to him and threw her arms around his neck.
He squeezed her tight and gruffly said, “It has been too long.”
“It has,” she agreed.
A smile broke across his face. “But I’m glad you are here. There is much to do. A parchment just came in that I need you to decipher, and I have a lead on a few more after that one.”
Her smile dipped. “Father, we don’t have time for that. I need to tell you something.”
He shuffled through the paperwork on his desk, distracted, and Thomas snickered behind her. Sighing, she grabbed her father’s hands and pulled him to the sitting area. His brows drew together in confusion. “Is something amiss?”
“I need to share something with you.”
He leaned back, unbothered. “I’m listening.”
Amusement danced in her father’s eyes, and she didn’t understand why.You don’t have time for this, Rose reminded herself. She took a deep breath. “I fell in love in London.”
