Redeeming the Reclusive Earl - Virginia Heath Page 0,61
kill his sister for practically forcing this invitation on Effie, especially as she had made sure she hadn’t given her either the time or space to sort it all out since the awkward moment she had arrived like the cavalry in the carriage, intent on rescuing them from the rain. Eleanor had taken one look at the pair of them, grinned like a loon and doubtless started plotting that very same instant.
They had taken Effie home, where she had been pressganged into returning to Rivenhall, his sister stubbornly refusing to take no for an answer and, in case she changed her mind, had dispatched her carriage again to fetch her to be certain. And early to boot, which was probably why their obviously uncomfortable guest was wearing one blue sparkly earring and one red, when the lovely gown she had paired them with was green.
Tonight, Eleanor had crowned herself queen of the knowing looks, which she shared much too frequently with her husband, Adam. Adam, to his credit, was attempting to make conversation with his mother to fill the painful silences while Max wished himself invisible, the blasted meal over with so he could finally have some privacy to talk to Effie and clear the air.
Assuming, of course, that he could clear the air. It was entirely feasible she was furious at him for taking liberties and this almost guaranteed she bitterly regretted it. She hadn’t been able to look him in the eye since, which was no mean feat when she was sat directly opposite him at the table thanks to his blasted sister’s blatant matchmaking and was soldiering through her dessert with such speed she clearly wanted to be gone. Frankly, he couldn’t blame her. If he’d had somewhere else to go and hadn’t felt obliged to support Effie in Purgatory, he’d be atop Drake right this minute galloping towards the furthest point on any map just to escape. Scotland had never appealed more. Or Dublin. Or even France, despite the bitter war with Napoleon.
But alas, he was stuck, hoisted by his own petard, and desperate to make things right again. To that end, he had a little speech all worked out to avoid the inevitable ritual humiliation, which largely blamed the heat of the moment and the excitement of the find for kissing her like a starving man feasting at a banquet and giving his meddlesome sister all the ammunition she needed to royally embarrass the pair of them. Because Eleanor might not have witnessed the actual kiss, but she had certainly seen the two, large, muddy handprints on Effie’s breeches like the mark of Cain damning him for all eternity and announcing to the world that he had been the one to put them there.
To make matters worse, it had, in all reality, been the briefest of kisses. Seconds rather than minutes, yet intensely significant all the same. If he was going to be shot for a wolf rather than a lamb, then at the very least his damn sister could have postponed her unwelcome rescue a little longer so he could have prolonged the experience before it all came crashing down around his ears.
‘Surely the Society of Antiquarians will have to take you seriously now you have found the shield and the bracelet, Effie?’
She shot him a very furtive, very awkward look before she answered his sister. ‘One would hope. I have certainly never read about anyone finding anything similar.’
‘It’s staggering, isn’t it, to think that people lived here—at Rivenhall—two thousand years ago and that their belongings still exist even though they are long gone?’
‘I suppose even then this was the perfect sight for a settlement. The Fens would have been fertile hunting ground with an excellent source of water. It was why the Abbey was built here in the Middle Ages. The church and the aristocracy always built on the prime spots...’ Her eyes wandered again to his and swiftly dipped. As if suddenly remembering the events of the afternoon was too awful to hold them.
‘You need to write that paper, Effie! Write it and submit it and we shall all march on their offices if they dare to send it back again! We could carry placards and protest outside until they relent.’