Tess sucked in an audible breath. Dom’s stomach tightened with unease.
“We’ll find you something much finer than a broken buckle, Sofie girl.”
Dom glanced at Tess, who shot him a horrified look.
“They aren’t truly thinking of wearing what we find, are they?” she whispered to him.
Dom hardly thought it the time to point out that his own family had earned their wealth and fame from the trade in antiquities—from frescos to wall hangings to gems and art. Though his father had finally refused the practice, there were even dealers who sold entire mummies to private collectors for the entertainment of party guests.
But he understood Tess’s dismay.
“These items are to be secured in your museum, are they not?” Dom asked Van Arsdale, fully aware the man needed no reminder. “They’ll be featured for their historical value.”
“Of course.” Van Arsdale glared at him, as if he’d caught the tightness in Dom’s tone.
Van Arsdale cast a look Tess’s way, and Dom immediately felt protective.
“You can tell us more of the history, yes?” the American said to her with a bit of a bark that set Dom’s teeth on edge.
“I can.”
Van Arsdale squared in on Dom again. “Take us out to the dig site. Sofia and I want to see what you’ve done.” He gestured dismissively at the box. “I hope the next finds are better than this and preferably not broken.”
“Whatever we find will be centuries old and likely greatly weathered if not broken,” Tess told him, her tone surprisingly light.
And she was right. If the man thought this would be like pulling Egyptian relics out of an undisturbed tomb, he was greatly mistaken.
Miss Van Arsdale seemed to sense her father’s growing ire and moved past him to draw next to Tess. “Whatever you find, I want to hear all the stories of the people who made it.”
Tess nodded and offered the young woman a smile. “I can tell you about our theories of whose burial this may be, of course.”
“Excellent.” Miss Van Arsdale beamed, revealing dimples. “And can you make them colorful theories, Miss Hawthorne? Our guests will love that most of all.”
“Guests?” Dom prompted.
“Oh yes, Mr. Prince, we’ve invited some of our friends in London to Norfolk for dinner tomorrow evening.” She pointed a look her father’s way. “Papa wants to let them all know of the glorious museum he’s establishing in New York.”
“Your dinner is to be hosted by Lord Fenbridge?” Tess sounded dubious.
Dom couldn’t imagine it either.
“I’m hosting,” Van Arsdale clarified, “with Fenbridge generously loaning us his dining room.”
“You’ll both come, of course,” Miss Van Arsdale insisted. “And your brother, Miss Hawthorne. Papa says he’s employed at the dig too.”
“He is, and I’ll be sure to invite him.” Tess sounded as resigned as Dom felt about this impromptu social event.
“Now.” Van Arsdale clapped his hands. “Give us a few minutes to prepare and take us to the dig site. We want to see what we’re paying for.”
Dom took the crass dismissal as an opportunity to lead Tess out of the dining room and into the hall’s foyer.
She clenched her hands into fists and spun toward him with flushed cheeks and thunder in her eyes. “She wants to make earbobs out of a centuries-old relic,” she hissed quietly.
“I’ll speak to him privately.”
“Why privately?”
Dom shrugged. “From the little I know of him, he seems a man who might be less prideful without an audience.”
