He should have returned to England with them. It had been almost a decade since he last saw his mother. She would be happy to see him. Over the last few years, she’d been more pointed about wanting him to return to London, but he couldn’t. Lisbeth was there.
Thomas wished his ex-betrothed only the best but had no desire to interact with her. He’d finally made peace with their past. Still, it had taken him a damn long time to do so. “Rose and her husband will be back. She needs to deliver a map that shows the location of the two clay tablets I’ve been searching for. There are too many corridors and cavities within the cave system down South. Without the drawing of what pathways to take, I’m simply guessing. I suppose they could send someone else. I don’t know how long it will take to have a grand society wedding.”
Keaton shuddered. “I may pass if you head back to the tunnels. That cave system is so vast, and I hate those tiny spaces.”
Thomas grinned. Keaton detested the caves. They spooked him; he often complained about how he hated the tight spaces.
“I’ve explored them a couple of times and think the best decision is to wait on the map.”
Mr. Dawoud stopped at their table. Thomas grinned at the guide, who generally acted as their escort to the permanent excavation site Benjamin Calvert worked at when he was here. “How are you, Dawoud? I don’t think I will be going out to the site anytime soon.”
Dawoud shook his head. “You have a visitor who wants to speak with you because Benjamin isn’t here.”
Thomas groaned. Benjamin enjoyed hosting a diverse range of people. He didn’t have much going on, but it didn’t mean he wanted to take over for his partner. A bit of guilt swirled in him because he knew Thomas would expect him to entertain the visitors. He would do it, but not until the next day. “Can you ask them to meet me at the main hotel tomorrow? We can make plans to head out to the site.”
The guide shook his head. “I don’t think that will work.”
Thomas lifted a brow. “Why?”
Just then, the café went quiet, and he heard rustling behind Dawoud. His heart nearly leaped out of his throat because Lisbeth, the Duchess of Lusby, joined Dawoud, followed by two other men. His eyes roamed over her uncontrollably. She looked like everything he’d imagined over the years—stunning and untouchable. Why did his hands itch to touch her?
Their eyes connected, and she gulped; he suspected she was nervous to see him. She took a deep breath and said, “Hello, Mr. Easton.”
Fury welled in him at her proper tone. They had a past, one that was far too intimate for such formality. Thomas wouldn’t allow it. He was a legend in the field of antiquities, possibly the most famous explorer of his time.
He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Well, hello, Lizzie. I certainly wasn’t expecting you. Why am I so lucky to have you grace my presence?”
Fire sparked in her eyes, and she gritted her teeth before saying calmly, “Please call me Mrs. Lusby.”
He lifted a brow at her haughtiness. His smile became more of a smirk. The owner motioned for Thomas to use a private room. It wasn’t often that women were in this café. He rose and said, “Please follow me, Lizzie.”
She stiffened at his second use of her old nickname. He suspected it had been a long time since this duchess had been addressed so informally. She was both the same and so different. He couldn’t stop himself from perusing her beautiful face, blonde hair, and slender form. She was dressed far more casually than Thomas believed a duchess would be, but it appeared she’d acquired a regal bearing over the last ten years that gave her an air of importance.
Rafe and Keaton stared at him curiously. Finally, Keaton asked, “Should I join?”
Thomas shook his head and led Lisbeth and her two associates into the private room. What was she doing here?
Chapter Two
Lisbeth sat acrossfrom Thomas. Her heart was pounding frantically. She did her best to stop her eyes from roaming over him. He was certainly no longer the boy she left behind. Gone was the slender, almost gangly young man, and in his place was a man comprised of hard muscle, tanned by countless hours out in the sun.
His mouth tilted into a sardonic smile. She’d read the serials about Thomas Easton, the famous explorer, and his roguish charm. She’d never really believed the description was accurate, but now, sitting across from him, it was apparent that it was she who was wrong. Still, he was both familiar and different. His perceptive green eyes remained the same.
The air was charged with emotions that Lisbeth never thought she would feel again. Benson and Abbas stood behind her, but that didn’t dissipate the tension that swirled between her and Thomas. He stretched, causing Lisbeth’s eyes to dart to his broad chest. She wasn’t sure if she was ogling him because he lived up to every physical description the serials and gossip sheets wrote, or because he was so different from the boy she left.
“What are you doing here, Serious Lizzie?”
She bristled at the nickname. “That was never my name. I calledyouthat.”
His eyes flicked down her, and he became somber for a moment, but then he shrugged. “You appear to be awfully serious now. I hear you are a duchess. Is that true?”
Lisbeth had no doubt Thomas knew about her title, but she didn’t want to quarrel with him. “Yes, it is.”
“Then the nickname suits you perfectly.”
Quietly, she said, “You used to be Serious Thomas, though I don’t think that would describe you now.”
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, and grinned rakishly at her. “What do you mean?”
