“Which one is Archer descended from?” Ollie asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “And can you look up the Shaws?”
Rufus retreated under the hood again, and Mark pulled out a laptop from his bag. He began constructing a tree as Rufus read names and dates to him. That gave me the space to deal with my reaction. What they’d found was interesting, but I couldn’t get as worked up about it as the other three. It wasn’tuseful.And for a few, glorious minutes, I’d thought I might no longer have to worry about money.
Oh well, I was no worse off than I’d been ten minutes ago, and Ollie’s delight was palpable. He’d squirmed against me when Rufus had mentioned King Arthur.For his happiness, I’d hide my disappointment.
OLLIE
As Rufus and Mark worked, I followed Archer to the sofa in front of the window. He sat down, and reached out a hand to me. Instead of pulling me down to sit beside him, he drew me onto his lap.
For an instant, I froze at the unfamiliarity of warm, muscled thighs under me. I’d been a small child the last time I’d sat on anyone’s lap. But as he held me, carefully avoiding my burn, I realised this was exactly what I wanted—for him to hold me, to treasure me. I laid my head against his neck, breathing in his scent as he placed his other arm across my thighs, his big hand spanning the outside of my leg. A very definite declaration to Rufus that I belonged to Archer.
Not that Rufus was interested in me in the least, but that didn’t matter. I sat quietly, enjoying the strength in Archer’s body as he played idly with my hair in the sunshine streaming through the windows. I couldn’t remember ever being wanted by anyone before. I certainly couldn’t remember being this happy.
After a while, Mark squeezed Rufus’s shoulder. “If this goes to the sixteenth century, we’re going to be here for a few hours. Time for a break?”
“Cup of tea?” I offered, reluctantly standing up from my warm, muscly seat.
Rufus sent me a shy smile as he emerged from the hood, and if not for the fact thatnoone could live up to my Archer, I’d have been a puddle on the floor. “Thank you,” he said. “As to your question, the Talbots are descended from Tristan, and the Shaws from Galahad.”
“Galahad? I’ve heard of him,” I blurted out, excited.
“He was known for his purity,” Mark said, and I bit back a laugh. How shocked he’d be by his descendant who used to love blowing strangers or being blown in the backroom of TunbridgeWells’ seediest club. Now, I had no idea why I’d enjoyed it so much.
“What about the Mortimers?” Mark asked.
Rufus’s lips quivered as if he wanted to laugh. “According to this, their ancestor was Mordred.”
“Mordred? Wasn’t he the one who betrayed and killed Arthur to take the throne?” Archer asked, standing up.
“Something like that,” Mark said.
“Oh my God, that isclassic.I can just see Abimelech Mortimer’s face if that gets out. Hey,” I said, turning to Archer. “Maybe you could ask him for a donation to the upkeep of the library to make sure itdoesn’tget out?”
“I’m not sure blackmailing Abimelech Mortimer is the best way to ensure my continued survival,” he said, before putting his mouth against my ear. “You seem to have forgotten that our guest is a Mortimer.”
“Oh,shit.” I stared at Rufus in horror. He seemed so nice, when he wasn’t telling me off about tea and books, and I’d forgotten.
“In name only,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s all ancient history anyway.” I tried to recover the situation. “I mean, it doesn’t change anything now.”
“I don’t know,” Mark said slowly. “It doesn’t change thefactsof how things are now, but it could change people’s actions. If you felt you had a destiny, you might do things you wouldn’t normally consider.”
Well, shit. That was a scary thought.
“How would it feel to learn that you were from a vastly powerful family who used to rule the land?” Mark continued.
“Honestly, I’d think they’d just be disappointed in me,” I said.
“Come on, Sir Galahad. Let’s make our guests some tea.” Archer tugged me after him out of the library.
ARCHER
Ihatedhow self-deprecating Ollie was and the way he’d been doing it so long that he knew how to make it sound like a joke. I hated that it had taken me so long to see what he was doing. I hated more that he believed he was no one special.
I took a moment in the hall to kiss him, to let him know I saw him, how truly amazing he was.
“How’s your shoulder?” I asked afterwards. The burn looked to be healing well—dragons heal fast—but I couldn’t help worrying.
