“And that’s all right with you?”
He shrugged. “I thought you’d be happy for the chance to dig. You wanted it so much for so long.”
“Tris,” Tess said quietly, “I thought we both did.”
He sipped his tea and stared into the steaming cup as if looking for his next words. “I wanted you to be happy. You threw yourself into it after...” He looked up at her bleakly. “After Shaw. After we lost Pater. It put a sparkle in your eye when nothing else did. So I sure as hell was going to support it.”
Tess felt as if all the air was slowly being drawn from her lungs, leaving her hollow. Her mind spun. Over the last few days, she’d learned that so much she believed wasn’t true at all.
Her parents’ love story hadn’t been a simple romance. Fenbridge’s refusal to let them dig hadn’t been a simple cruelty. Tristan’s support of her goals hadn’t been a simple shared dream.
And her feelings for Dominic? They weren’t simple either. They were enormous, complicated, ready to consume her if she gave into them.
“I don’t think I can quit the dig, Tess,” Tristan said quietly. “Not with the wedding approaching.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.” She bit her lip. “It seemed right last night, and I don’t wish to do this under the Van Arsdales’control... but I have to admit I still want to go back out there and continue searching.”
“Then have Dominic speak to Van Arsdale. He can convince him to bring you back on board. I know it.” His lips twitched into something like a grin. “Besides, we both know Dominic Prince would do anything for you.”
Would he? Even if he tried, she wasn’t convinced the Van Arsdales would let her set foot on their dig site again after her snappish comments to Miss Van Arsdale.
“There’s more,” Tess admitted. “Miss Van Arsdale found Dominic and I...”
Tristan arched a dark-gold brow. “Oh, I see. Do I need to call him out?” he asked in a teasing tone.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She gave him a playful shove. “I merely mentioned it to explain why her father may not wish to have me on the dig any longer.”
Tristan scoffed. “That’s hypocritical if they keep Dominic on. And he would argue as much too, I suspect.”
Tess wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe in him. In the two of them together. But how could she when she wasn’t certain she could even trust herself anymore?
She’d been wrong about so many things.
The only time her doubts faded was when she was in Dominic’s arms. No questions. No second-guessing. It was just... right.
Dom was up, dressed, and ready to seek out Tess by seven. He hesitated a moment at his door, fearful it might be too early, but the thought of waiting was unbearable. He’d barely slept for how eager he was to resume what Miss Van Arsdale had interrupted.
He understood trust was hard for Tess. But her kisses, theway she touched him, the way she always pulled him closer. That was real. Her feelings were real. He felt it in his bones.
The notion of scanning the dig site all day and not seeing her there, working with methodical care, gnawed at him all night too. He respected her decision to leave the Van Arsdales’ employment, but he also wanted her, needed her, as his partner in this endeavor. Hell, she’d found the most significant artifact they’d yet dug from Fenbridge’s field, and she’d even found the first one that proved they were on the right track.
He wouldn’t pressure her to return, but he would damn well make sure the Americans took her back if she wanted it.
As he latched his room door and headed down the stairs, he was stopped cold by the sound of voices below. The bloody Van Arsdales. They were downstairs, speaking in boisterous terms to Mr. and Mrs. Randall.
He had a wild thought of climbing out the window of his room just to avoid them. The drop might be worth it.
Instead, with a sigh he felt bone-deep, he made his way to the lobby to face them.
“And there he is,” the innkeeper’s wife, Mrs. Randall, said cheerfully.
Whatever the Americans had said seemed to please her. They either appalled or charmed Wiggenstow’s inhabitants. There was no in-between.
“Mr. Prince,” Miss Van Arsdale called, her gaze bold. “Your expression is so fierce this morning.” She plumped out her lower lip as if pouting might change his mood.
“I’m on my way to pay a call,” he told them, nodding politely. “I hope you’ll excuse me.”
“We need to talk, Prince.” Van Arsdale’s booming voicemade clear it was a command more than a request. “Perhaps that table in the corner will do.”
