Eve’s ankle injury proved to be nothing more than a sprain, and six days later, she was well enough to resume her usual activities outside of the home. Only the occasional twinge reminded her to slow down and not overtax herself, but she was certainly well enough to attend one of Jonathan’s lectures at the museum.
“Shall we?” Jonathan held out his arm to escort her to the door of Thorne Place.
When her maid donned a bonnet and nodded to Eve to signal she was ready, Eve linked arms with her betrothed.
Jonathan’s eyes twinkled. “Did I ever mention the frame drum also could be traced to Greece and the goddess Athena?”
“Yes, I believe you have mentioned it a time or two.” Or fifty. She squeezed his arm affectionately. His childlike enthusiasm made her smile, even if she was growing a bit tired of hearing the same information.
“I find it fascinating how diverse the ancient civilizations were, and yet universally they incorporated drums into their worship of their gods.” He spoke in a rush of words. “Drums were used in war too, but most Continental empires only employ drums on the battlefield. There seems to be something terribly wrong with this practice.”
“I never really thought about it, but I suppose that is true.” Eve wrinkled her brow when they walked outside and there wasn’t a hack waiting for them in the street. She tossed a look over her shoulder at Alice, who seemed just as puzzled. Jonathan whisked Eve along the walkway without explanation. She scanned the street for a carriage, but Jonathan kept moving when they reached the cross street. Her maid was lagging behind since she wasn’t accustomed to a quick pace, nor was she a young woman any longer.
Eve politely cleared her throat to gain his attention. “Pardon me, sir, but where are we headed?”
He swung his head toward her as if startled. “Why, to the museum. Did you forget about my lecture today?”
“Of course I didn’t, but it is across town. Surely you are not suggesting we go by foot.”
He stopped short on the walkway, abruptly jerking her back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He rubbed his fingers over the deep creases between his eyebrows as he regarded her. “You enjoy walking and it is a pleasant day. I thought you would be pleased.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Was he truly oblivious to Alice’s crimson face and the noisy huffing from trying to keep up? His preoccupation had seemed humorous and quirky before today; now it made her slightly queasy. She glanced at Alice, and his bewildered gaze slowly traveled toward her maid too.
“Ah,” he uttered. “It is a bit far, I think.” A deep blush flooded his face and her faith in him began to be restored. Perhaps he needed a nudge when it came to thinking of others, but he was not heartless. “We may need to walk a little farther to find a hack. Is that acceptable?”
She smiled, finding his compromise adequate. “Perhaps we could walk at a more leisurely pace as well.”
“Agreed.” Jonathan mirrored her smile then launched into happy chatter again. As they neared Piccadilly, they encountered more people out and about. “We should be able to locate a hack to hire ahead,” he said. “Keep a lookout.”
Eve checked on Alice and caught sight of a man several yards behind her maid. He stopped to pull his watch fob from his pocket as if checking the time, but she noticed his gaze straying toward them. He snapped his watch closed and turned around to walk in the opposite direction.
Unease trickled through her, but she tried to shake off the feeling. Her brother had always accused her of having an overactive imagination, and she knew it was true. Since she was a little girl, she had made up stories about gypsies, pirates, or enchanted forests where fairies lived among the ferns. In her imagination, everything was perfect: fathers didn’t have fits of anger, throw valuable vases against walls, or barricade themselves in their chambers for days on end.
As the walkway became more crowded, Jonathan drew her to his side. They maneuvered around gentlemen, merchants, members of the servant class, and the occasional lady with her escort. Eve turned to motion Alice closer and caught another glimpse of the man with the watch. He met her eyes, then veered toward a vendor’s cart, turning his back as he inspected the goods. There was nothing remarkable in his appearance, nothing familiar about him.
Jonathan urged her along. “I’ve spotted a hack at the next intersection.”
Eve saw it too and hurried her step to keep up with him, but Alice fell behind again. “Sir Jonathan.” She released his arm, intending to go back for her maid, and discovered the same man only several feet away. Was he following them? “Sir Jonathan, do you know that man? I think he is following us.”
“Where?” Jonathan was searching straight ahead.
“Right there!”
The man grimaced when she pointed at him, then dashed into the street, darting between a carriage and wheeled cart crawling along the congested street.
“He is following us.”
“Where is he?” Jonathan spun around, his shoulder knocking her bonnet askew.
“In the street. Dressed in gray.” She reached to adjust the brim so she could see which way he went.
“I don’t see him.” Jonathan whirled again and sent her sprawling into Alice’s arms. She and her maid hugged each other to keep from falling, and Eve’s bonnet brim slipped lower over her eyes.
“Miss Thorne.” Alice’s voice trembled. “What is happening?”
“I don’t know.” Eve managed to right herself and adjust her bonnet in time to see Jonathan spin again and nearly trip a soldier with his cane. The stout man stumbled forward and bumped into his fellow soldier. They hurled curses at Jonathan, clearly unhappy with him and his cane.
The larger soldier marched toward him, red-faced and almost foaming from the mouth. “Watch where you be swinging that blasted walking stick before I stick it up yer—”
“Oh dear!” Eve rushed forward to insert herself between the men, but in a flash, Jonathan had her behind him.
“A lady is present,” Jonathan said with a snarl. “Stand down, mangold.”
The note of danger in his tone made her shiver, even as his insult made her want to laugh. Wasn’t a mangold a type of beet? She peeked around Jonathan to see the soldier’s face did in fact border on purple like a beet, but the color was quickly draining from his cheeks.
“Yes, sir.” Both men backed away, their postures submissive. They reminded her of hounds tucking tail.
“Apologize to the lady.”
“Sorry, miss,” the men mumbled before bolting away.
Jonathan turned to face her. “Are you all right? Did they frighten you?”
She blinked up at him, confused by the paradox he presented. Sweet bumbling man by day. Dangerous adversary by…well, also by day. “I was not frightened.”
He blew out a breath. “Well, that makes one of us. I am still shaking. See?” He held out a trembling hand, then made a fist and pressed it against his thigh. “Please don’t place yourself in danger again, Miss Thorne. It requires me to be brave, and I am not certain my nerves can handle it.”
She bit down on her lip rather than blurt out she wouldn’t have been in any danger if he were more careful with his cane. The poor man was shaken enough by the encounter. “I am sorry, but I wasn’t thinking. I won’t do it again.” Although she didn’t know how she would keep her promise if he continued to land them in situations not of her doing.
“Splendid.” He sported a crooked grin. “Now, allow me to hail a hack.” He stepped toward the street as a weathered carriage bumped along the rutted thoroughfare and waved his hand in the air to gain the driver’s attention. After securing a ride and handing Eve and her maid into the carriage, he claimed the opposite seat.
Now that they were safely on their way, it was hard to believe they had been in danger moments earlier. Jonathan could have gotten himself severely injured or killed. She raised her eyebrows in his direction. “A beet, sir?”
“A Beta vulgaris, if we wish to employ the proper name.” He chuckled and lifted his shoulders in a sheepish shrug. “I couldn’t think of anything more fitting. I am not as quick-witted as some, I’m afraid.”
No, she supposed he wasn’t, but it was a rather disappointing discovery. He was intelligent and well-read. Usually witty went hand in hand with those characteristics. She sank against the seat back, her smile fading.
Three weeks earlier, she thought she knew everything she needed to know about Jonathan, but recently she felt as if she didn’t know him at all. He had become even more absorbed in his work, less thoughtful, and now she was discovering he wasn’t even as clever as she had assumed. It might seem like a petty thing to some, but she had always appreciated a man with superior wit. What if there were other things she hadn’t learned about her betrothed? Perhaps more troubling habits or traits he kept hidden?
She tilted her head slightly to study him. He caught her eye and grinned, but there was something different about his smile. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but he truly lit up again as soon as the hack rolled to a stop in front of the museum. As they strolled arm in arm past the fountains en route to the north entrance, he resumed his chattiness.
Alice gasped softly when they reached a nude statue.
“It is something to see, is it not?” Jonathan asked her maid.
“Aye, sir.” A furious blush consumed Alice’s face. “Never seen anything like it.”
When they reached the foot of the stairs leading into the majestic Montagu House, Jonathan linked arms with Alice, too, and helped her navigate the steps. Eve warmed in response to his thoughtful gesture. Perhaps earlier she had just experienced a case of nerves. Their wedding was only a week and a half away. Surely it was common for some brides to have doubts.
Just inside the museum doors, Alice released a delighted cry as her head dropped back to view the ceiling, which had been painted like a blue sky. “I’ve never seen anything as grand. Where did they find a long enough paintbrush, do you suppose?”
As Jonathan gave his name to the porter, Eve tried to explain the process for creating murals on ceilings, citing what she knew about Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. Eve hadn’t seen the actual ceiling in Rome, but Sebastian had, and she’d read about how the masterpiece had been created.
A moment later, an under-librarian came down the stairwell to greet them. “Sir Jonathan, what an honor to have you and your guests with us today. Mr. Hillary has already arrived. Please, come this way.”
Eve snapped her head toward Jonathan, her heart floundering. “Mr. Hillary is here?”
He took her hand to thread it through the crook of his elbow. “I mentioned the lecture when we left Thorne Place the other day. He expressed interest, so I thought it would be rude to exclude him.” As they neared a small doorway, Jonathan said, “I find I like Mr. Hillary. Perhaps you should give him another chance.”
Eve stopped in the corridor and frowned at him. “I do not understand you, sir.”
He patted her hand. “I find that is most often the case with everyone. Do not let it trouble you.” Without allowing her another word, he dropped her hand and entered the room ahead of her.
She exchanged a perplexed glance with Alice, then followed. Jonathan had already located Ben sitting in the back row and was whispering with him.
“I would be honored,” Ben replied. Her insides quivered when he stood and graced her with a smile.
“Excellent.” Jonathan slapped him on the back. “Miss Thorne, I have asked Mr. Hillary to provide you company while I prepare for my lecture. Come, there is room enough for you and your maid.”
Ben’s jaw hardened as his eyes narrowed at Jonathan. Her heart sank. Didn’t Ben want to keep her company? Not that she wanted his companionship either. At least, not a great deal. “Hackberry, you forgot to ask Miss Thorne if she wishes to spend the afternoon in my company. Perhaps she would rather—”
“I don’t mind.”
The hint of a dimple appeared in Ben’s right cheek. “That is a relief, Miss Thorne.” He came forward to offer his arm. She hesitated, not certain touching him would be wise. After their brief contact when she twisted her ankle, she had been preoccupied with thoughts of him for days. It was unseemly for a betrothed young woman to ponder what it would be like to kiss her former love.
Would his lips be as soft as they once were?
Would he cradle her head with his strong yet gentle hands?
Would he angle her mouth just right, his kiss tasting slightly of mint?
“Miss Thorne?” Ben’s voice jarred her from her memories. “Would you like to find a seat? The lecture will begin soon.”
Jonathan’s back was to them, and he was halfway to the lectern already.
Heat swept over her. “Please,” she murmured and reached to touch Ben’s arm, knowing every time she gave in to temptation, it would be that much harder to banish him from her dreams.