Page 7 of A Bluestocking’s Secret Courtship

“Sir Jonathan’s essays are some of my favorites,” she said.

Regina snorted softly. “I am aware. Despite your belief to the contrary, I do listen when you speak—especially when you mention it very frequently.”

“It isn’t that often.”

Truly, Sir Jonathan’s study of transient states of consciousness as a result of repetitive drumming during spiritual ceremonies was fascinating. She couldn’t help speculating on the use of drums while marching to battle and wondering if the effects on soldiers were similar.

“Are you certain I’m awake, Gigi?”

“I can check if you like.” Regina pinched the air, playfully threatening to carry out the deed.

Evangeline laughed and slapped her sister’s hand away. “I said no thank you.”

“Sir Jonathan is very handsome,” Regina mused.

Evangeline shushed her. “He is a fellow scholar. I admire his intellect and nothing more. Don’t embarrass me.”

“All I’m saying is you would make a striking couple. Just imagine the stir you would cause when you arrived at an excavation site together.”

“La,” Evangeline muttered, turning her face away to hide the flush of pleasure from her sister’s words. “Why must married couples always play matchmakers?”

“I just want you to be happy, too.”

“I am, and I will be even happier once I join Uncle Charles in the field.”

Xavier appeared through the crowd with several strong men carrying their travel trunks. His brow furrowed as he neared. “Are you overheated, Regina?”

Evangeline inhaled sharply. Her sister’s cheeks were scarlet. “My word! You look like you might collapse.”

“Stop fussing over me, both of you.”

Gravel crunched behind Evangeline, and she spun around. Sir Jonathan had returned with a rustic cart drawn by a pair of oxen, led by a young man wearing a red brimless cap.

“It isn’t luxurious,” Sir Jonathan said, “but it must suffice.”

“It is perfect.” Evangeline clasped her sister’s arm above the elbow. “I insist Regina ride to the villa.”

Sir Jonathan gestured toward the cart bed. “There will be room for both of you.”

Looking up at the steep incline, she was grateful. She wasn’t dressed for climbing hills.

Once the trunks were loaded, she ignored Regina’s protest and drew her toward the cart. “Up you go, Gigi.”

“I can do it,” Regina grumbled as Xavier helped her climb onto the bed.

When Evangeline joined her, she angled her parasol to block the afternoon sun from her sister’s face. Regina scowled.

“You needn’t worry about me.”

“I never worry. That is your responsibility.”

Regina closed her eyes, flicking her fan to create a breeze.

Sir Jonathan stepped up to the cart, pulled an orange from his jacket, and handed it to Evangeline. “A souvenir to remember your first adventure in Athens.”

A gleeful laugh bubbled up from her chest, but she contained it. How would she ever earn the respect of the Society of Antiquarians if she giggled like a girl every time a colleague addressed her?

“Thank you,” she said, gingerly squeezing the orange and noting it was only a little soft from hitting the thief.