Redeeming the Reclusive Earl - Virginia Heath Page 0,15

finally stared him straight in the eye, her expression achingly sad and the previous excitement tragically missing from her voice. ‘There is so much more to uncover here, Lord Rivenhall. Would it be so terrible if I continued my work?’

‘Miss Nithercott, I...’ Max didn’t want to feel suddenly sorry for her. Did not want to feel guilty or cruel for denying her. He wanted peace. Space. Endless open fields blessedly free from people. The wind in his hair and the sun on his ruined skin. ‘I came here to be left well alone.’ This estate was a poor substitute for the vast expanse of the ocean or the endless horizons he still pined for, but it was all his and he had missed being outside. Was so tired of feeling suffocated by the walls and ceilings he endlessly stared at.

‘I would leave you alone. I promise to keep well out of your way. In fact, I shall even hide if I catch the merest glimpse of you. I can continue to dig at night and...’ The thought of that had him holding up his palm in defeat, but she misconstrued the gesture and her face fell and her slim shoulders slumped, making Max feel like a brute all over again even though his resolve to evict her was already waning and all his hopes for peace evaporating.

‘Please, my lord... This place... This work... It is everything to me. All that I have.’ And, God help him, he believed her. ‘I beg of you not to take it away.’ And suddenly she looked lost and he couldn’t bear that because he knew exactly how that felt. He had been lost since the day he awoke in laudanum-blurred agony on that Royal Navy frigate over a year ago and hadn’t found any trace of himself in the interminable months since. ‘Please...’

Max tore his gaze away from her eyes, hating the desperation he saw in them when he much preferred the sassy and indomitable Miss Nithercott to the one his self-preserving, selfish actions had created. Perhaps with strict boundaries, allowing her to dig her blasted holes wouldn’t be the end of the world? But they would have to be very strict boundaries indeed. He did not want to have to see her. Talk to her. Smell her. Even think about her. Or anyone for that matter. He just wanted to be left alone.

He turned to her again, ready to give her a list of stipulations. ‘If you promise to keep to the confines of the Abbey...’

‘Oh, thank you!’ She grabbed his hand again and the rest of his planned list of rigid rules and parameters died in his throat. ‘I promise you will never know I am here!’

Max instantly extricated his hand and, because his nerve endings mourned her, fisted it behind his back where she couldn’t see it. ‘No night digging. I expressly forbid that. It is not safe for a woman on her own to be all alone in the dark.’ Not that he wanted to contemplate exactly why she was on her own whenever he encountered her, why she wandered around unchaperoned at apparently all hours of the day or night. Or why there was no ring on her finger. Nor did he want to explore why he had the compelling urge to stand guard over her now, when now was absolutely the opportune time to escape. He’d assuaged his conscience with an apology and had a rational discussion with her and both things had left him feeling off kilter.

She made him feel off kilter.

‘I shall escort you home, Miss Nithercott.’ Not at all what he had intended to say.

‘There is no need. It will be light soon and it will take at least that to get the nation’s pot out of the ground.’ To prove her point, the first hints of dawn whispered in the distance.

‘Then I shall bid you a good day, Miss Nithercott.’ Before the unforgiving daylight made him more disconcerted than he already was.

Chapter Four

Dig Day 763: hearthstone—if it is indeed a hearthstone—is round!

There was only one metal Effie knew of which did not tarnish underground and that was gold. Although where this ancient Celtic civilisation had gold in Cambridgeshire was anybody’s guess. Cornwall perhaps was the