After they had gone, Daphne turned to the viscountess, who was studying her with frank interest.
The moment their eyes met, the viscountess smiled. “My brother has always wanted to excavate the ruins here at Tremore. How did he come to hire you for this project, Miss Wade?”
“My father was Sir Henry Wade, one of the most knowledgeable Roman antiquarians in the world. I was his assistant. The duke had been corresponding with Papa for several years. He would often purchase antiquities we uncovered, and Papa always offered any rare finds to his grace first. Your brother eventually hired us to come to England to work on this villa for him, but Papa died very suddenly. We—” She broke off, and swallowed hard. Nearly a year had gone by, but it still hurt to talk about Papa.
She took a moment to collect herself, then went on, “We were just finishing our work on Volubilis in Morocco and preparing to come here when he died. The duke had already paid our passage to England, and I decided to come anyway. His grace was so good as to hire me to assist Mr. Bennington. My knowledge does not compare to that of my father, of course, but I do the best I can.”
The viscountess returned her attention to the jewelry. “These are beautiful pieces. I would not have thought ancient jewelry could remain in such pristine condition as this.”
“It doesn’t, I assure you,” Daphne said, laughing. “The necklace was in pieces when the duke himself uncovered it yesterday, and several of the jewels had fallen out of their settings. I cleaned the lot, then put the pieces back together and sketched them for his grace’s catalog.”
A slight frown marred the other woman’s face. “No young lady should have to work so hard.”
“Oh, but his grace wants the museum open by mid-March. I don’t mind the work. I enjoy it, and these pieces are extraordinary historical finds. Valuable jewelry is rare, for it is usually stolen long before an antiquarian has the chance to uncover it.”
“You must be a remarkable woman, Miss Wade. I cannot fathom what would be enjoyable about what you do. Repairing jewelry, restoring mosaic floors, and piecing together clay pots would not be my idea of enjoyment, especially under my brother’s supervision. He is impossible to work for, I have no doubt.”
“Oh, no,” Daphne cried. “He is a very good employer. If it had not been for Anthony, I—” She stopped, realizing she had said his Christian name aloud.
The viscountess did not appear to notice her slip of the tongue. She looked down and caught sight of the drawings Daphne had made of the jewelry. She picked up two of the sketches to study them. “You make a drawing of each item you find? For a catalog, I believe you said?”
“Yes,” she said, relieved. “I do a sketch of each artifact. They will form the permanent record of his grace’s collection.”
The viscountess studied the drawings for a moment, then set them aside. As she did so, she caught sight of Daphne’s sketch book, which was also lying on the table, and she opened it.
Remembering what was inside, Daphne made a move to stop her from going further, but it was too late. The viscountess was already looking through her drawings.
“I do not believe you would be interested in those, Lady Hammond,” she said, feeling a hint of panic. “They are not for the catalog. They are just my scribblings, and quite unremarkable.”
“Miss Wade, you are too modest. These are lovely.”
Without snatching the sketch book away, there was nothing Daphne could do but watch as the viscountess studied her drawings of the excavations and the workmen. One by one, she examined each page and set it aside, coming closer and closer to the ones tucked away at the bottom of the pile.
Just when Daphne wished she could crawl under the nearest floor carpet, Lady Hammond finally reached the drawings of Anthony, and she paused an inordinate amount of time over the last one, an image of him standing amid the excavations without his shirt. Daphne felt her cheeks heating with mortification, and she tried to look at anything in the library but the other woman’s face.
After what seemed an eternity, the viscountess put the last sketch down. She replaced the drawings back inside Daphne’s worn, leather-bound portfolio precisely in the order she had found them. “You have great talent,” she said, and closed the book. “The last one is especially fine. A very accurate likeness.” She paused, then added, “My brother is quite a handsome man, is he not?”
“I suppose so,” she said, trying to sound indifferent. “I have always made it a habit,” she said, struggling for some semblance of dignity, “to do drawings of each person involved in an excavation. It helps record the event for posterity’s sake.”
“Of course.” The very gravity of the other woman’s voice told Daphne she didn’t believe it for a moment, but she did not point out that posterity hardly required a drawing of Anthony without his shirt.
The tap of decisive, familiar footsteps in the corridor outside the library told Daphne who was coming, and she circled around to the other side of the table, never more thankful of a distraction in her life. She grabbed a soft, damp chamois, and by the time Anthony came through the door, she was polishing a gold armband, rubbing away any last tarnish from its surface.
“Anthony!” Lady Hammond greeted him over one shoulder. “I did not expect to see you until dinner.”
“I came in search of you, Viola,” he answered, crossing the room to stand beside his sister. “I thought you might wish to see some of the antiquities.”
“With pleasure.”
Anthony proffered his arm to her, but instead of slipping her own arm through his, the viscountess pointed to the jewelry. “Look at what your Miss Wade had done. I understand these pieces were in very poor shape yesterday, yet you would never know it to see them now. Miss Wade is extraordinary.”
He looked over at Daphne, and his smile took her breath away. “Yes,” he agreed, “quite extraordinary.”
Her heart skipped a beat as he circled the table to her side. She watched him anxiously as he made a careful perusal of her efforts, and she hoped he would find no flaw with them.
He looked up, his beautiful hazel eyes meeting hers. “Excellent work, Miss Wade.”
Pleasure washed over her like the sun. She swallowed hard and nodded, unable to think of a thing to say until he had walked away.
