His nod was quick, his gaze still elsewhere. “When I was at university, I was full of myself. I told everyone how I was going to travel and go to exotic places and see exotic sights. Myvery first assignment—as an assistant to one of my archaeology professors—was in Aberdeen, the least exotic place I could think of. The nickname was short-lived, but when it came time to pick a sobriquet, I thought it fit.”
This man, this handsome, intelligent man, wasAberdeen Jones? Her idol?
And you just made a complete fool of yourself, accusing him of lying.
Suddenly, he turned to her in one swift movement. “Look, I can explain. Or try to, at least.” He glanced over her head, then around the room. “Have ye seen the auld earl’s private antiquities collection?”
Still sputtering over this revelation, Olive nodded. “In the library? Of course.”
His expression softened into a smile as he glanced at her once more. “Of course,” he repeated gently, then shook his head. “However, I meant in his study. When the countess gave me permission to—well, it does no’ matter. But she told me I could have access to the collection whenever I’d like.” His gaze darted around the room. “Meet me there in a quarter hour and I’ll try to explain.”
And then he was gone, leaving her to stare at the potted palm. A very fine example ofhowea forsterianaif she wasn’t mistaken.
The joys of having a botanist for a father.
As part of her mind cataloged the genus and species of the plant, the rest was occupied with the realization her dinner partner—the man she’d so thoroughly snubbed—wasAberdeen Jones.
He was handsome and made her insides do interesting things when he touched her. And he lived a life she could only dream of but wanted to know more about.
But to sneak away from a dance to meet a man in private, in her host’s study no less?
It was scandalous.
It was wrong.
Clearlyshe was going to do it.
