Redeeming the Reclusive Earl - Virginia Heath Page 0,66

she was quite determined to make him stay there. They weren’t friends any more as far as she was concerned and, as he had plainly stated, there was no chance of them ever being anything more than friends, ergo they were now nothing to one another beyond acquaintances. She would maintain a cordial and polite distance because she still needed to dig on his land. But on principle she would refuse any and all assistance from him in the future because she didn’t want to be within ten miles of the dratted man—let alone ten feet.

Once she stopped avoiding him and the ruins like the plague, of course, because she still wasn’t the least bit ready to have to face him.

Mrs Farley poked her head around the door. ‘You have a caller, miss. From the big house. Shall I show him in?’

‘Him?’

‘I didn’t ask his name. But he’s big and brooding and soaking wet.’

Effie’s stomach plummeted to her toes. ‘Tell him I am indisposed, Mrs Farley.’ What was good for the goose was good for the gander after all. And she wasn’t ready. Might never be ready if her bouncing nerves and aching heart were any gauge.

‘Tell her I will wait, Mrs Farley!’ The deep voice came from the room beyond. ‘Until Miss Nom de Plume is disposed.’

Nom de Plume! Oh, dear...

Max’s dark, dripping head appeared over the housekeeper’s shoulders, an opened letter scrunched in his raised hand and his expression as stormy as the sky outside. ‘And then tell her I intend to wring her manipulative, duplicitous, libellous neck!’

‘I can explain...’

‘Explain what? That you wrote to the Society of Antiquaries pretending to be me? That you submitted a scholarly paper without my knowledge which they are about to publish in my name?’ As Mrs Farley reversed in subtle retreat, he stalked in and tossed the letter on her desk.

‘Or that you invited them to come to my house, Effie! At their earliest convenience no less! To join me at the dig!’ Then she saw more than anger in his eyes. She saw fear. ‘I can’t have people in my house, Effie. Strangers... How could you? I am not...’ As if he realised he was showing her so much more of himself than he intended, his expression hardened once more. ‘I am not having it!’

As angry as she was with him, she wanted to hold him and comfort him. The fear was all to do with his scars. All to do with the wicked Miranda’s rejection. She was certain, but knew he would never admit that. ‘I am sorry, Max... I didn’t think.’

‘You are damn right you didn’t think!’ He tapped the folded letter hard with one blunt-tipped finger. ‘It’s about to go to press, Effie! They were so excited by my amazing discoveries, they wanted to rush it into this quarter’s Archaeologia with all haste so the entire antiquarian community can learn from my work!’ His fists clenched as he began to pace, prowling her small study like a caged tiger about to pounce. ‘What if they all decide to come on the back of it? A pilgrimage of complete strangers, lining up at my door... All ready to stare and gawp!’

More proof that it was the way he looked which lay at the heart of his self-imposed isolation.

‘I really am going to have to build that blasted wall, aren’t I? And get dogs.’ He looked so lost. So desolate as he paced, she instinctively went to him and grabbed his hand to anchor him to one spot long enough that she might be able to penetrate his own destructive thoughts obviously whirling in his complicated head.

‘I will make it right, Max.’ His eyes went to where his fingers had laced with hers and simply stared. ‘I promise... We shall send another letter admitting to my deception and that will bring it all to a crashing halt.’

‘It is too late... They are already on their way, Effie. I am to expect them tomorrow afternoon...’

‘Then I shall be there tomorrow afternoon and I shall tell them the truth to their face.’ His eyes finally rose to meet hers and he nodded. ‘I dare say they will