“I’m here.”
His oldest sister’s determined footsteps grew louder as she approached.
“Are you alone?” she whispered from the other side of the door. “Shall I avert my eyes?”
Dom scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. The presumption that he used this flat above the family’s shop for debauchery usually amused him. Today, he found it grating.
“I’m alone.” After donning the clean linen shirt he’d retrieved, he opened the door.
“Good morning,” Eve said the minute he faced her. Her color was high, her blue eyes alight, and she was all but bouncing with joyful energy.
“Good morning.” Dom lifted a brow. “What’s happened? You look like Father when he found the queen’s diamond.”
“Do I?” She giggled.
Dom’s brow shot higher. “You’d better tell me before you erupt.”
She clutched something in her arms as if it was a rare treasure, and yet as far as he could tell it was the same leather-bound folio she often toted about to collect her notes and writings in.
“I’ve received an invitation.” She dipped her hand down and lifted an envelope out to him. “Professor Albrecht hasinvited me to speak at a conference of historians in Berlin. Scholars are coming from all over the world to discuss historical and archaeological subjects for a whole week.”
“Excellent.” Dom only glanced at the letter before smiling and offering it back to his sister.
Reasons and rationales for declining a request to join her on the journey flickered through his mind. As much as he longed for travel, sitting in on a series of lectures for the entirety of a week sounded hellish, especially in his present mood.
And then there was the potential delay. “What of our progress in Norfolk? Are we not commencing our trip north?”
She darted her gaze away from his, scanning the narrow confines of his room. His sister would be a dreadful poker player. Her tells were far too obvious.
“What’s the part you don’t want to tell me, Eve?”
If the trip had been cancelled... His heartbeat thrummed louder, faster. He needed to get away from London.
“You may not like it.”
“Tell me.”
“Van Arsdale doesn’t want to delay.”
Dom let out such a sharp exhale that his head spun for a moment. “Thank God.”
“I thought you might spare a moment to be pleased for me.” Eve’s brow crimped and she perched a hand on her hip. “You only care about the dig.”
“Of course I care about it.” He knew she did too. “It’s what we’ve both been preparing for since we left Norfolk in October.”
“Then you won’t mind going alone.” She stared at him now, expectantly and yet with a bit of hesitation.
“Alone.” Dom swallowed hard, imagining carrying theweight of all the responsibilities on his own shoulders. It shouldn’t have daunted him. The papers presented him as a fearless swashbuckler, as they had his father.
But he and Eve were better as a team. He relied on her to take care of all the paperwork, the details that he found tedious and mind-numbing. He far preferred to have them summarized by her than wading through it all himself.
“Does Van Arsdale want me to do this alone?” Dom didn’t want to delay, but he sure as hell didn’t want to disappoint the man either.
“No.” Eve shook her head. “You know that his ambitions will take a team. We’ve discussed hiring as many as five or six local men,” Eve reminded him.
“Of course.” Dom tried to push away the emptiness Peter’s death had opened up in him and focus on the task at hand. He could be strategic. Organized. He could do this. “So he’s recruited local men?”
“Oh no, not at all.” She bent her head and rifled through her folio, slipping her finger along the edge of one particular sheet. He could only see that it was entirely covered in her neat cursive. “The landowner remains resistant, and Van Arsdale wants us... er, you to meet with him. A Lord Fenbridge. And as for a liaison with the locals, Van Arsdale has located and hired a local historian who is familiar with the site, the village, and Fenbridge.”
