Anne Barbour (13 page)

The carriage had crossed onto Goodhurst land and, by previous agreement, James had driven directly to the villa site. As he followed the direction of Hilary’s pointing finger, he stiffened.

“Oh, my God,” he muttered. “What is
he
doing here?”

Hilary and James were still some distance from the site, but two figures could be seen there, one of which was seated on a broken stone wall. The other, arms waving, appeared to be expostulating.

Abruptly, James ordered the carriage to slow. “The slender gentleman is my secretary,” he said tersely in answer to Hilary’s question. “The fat one is called Mordecai Cheeke.”

“Oh, my goodness!” she exclaimed. “I know that name! I’ve read—”

“Never mind that. I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I don’t have much time. Please be aware that I have good reason for wishing him to the very devil right now. He must not know about Rufus or be made aware of his, er, background.” He grasped Hilary’s hands in his. “Please trust me on this. Cheeke will try to weasel information from you, which you must not give him.”

He turned to confront Rufus and said rapidly,
“Optima,
listen to me carefully. The man you see there—the one examining the stone wall—is my enemy. I feel about him as you do about your brother-in-law, Felix. I must act cordially to him, but I do not trust him. It is imperative that he not discover your identity. I’ll explain later. I will tell him you are a visitor from a far-off country and I’ll get rid of him as soon as I can. In the meantime—he speaks your tongue, so you must take care to say nothing in Latin, or—or anything at all.
Nothing.
Do you understand?”

Rufus nodded. “Do you want me to dispatch him for you, James? It would be the work of a moment.”

“No!” cried James and Hilary in unison.

“That is,” continued James, “I appreciate the gesture, but it—it would not serve. Just remain silent.”

The carriage halted and the two people already on the scene turned as the little party disembarked. Jasper leaped from the vehicle and loped over to perform his duties as chief inspector of potential threats to his human’s well-being. Mordecai fluttered his hands distastefully at the dog’s enthusiastic investigation.

“James!” he cried when he had at last succeeded in pushing Jasper away. Today he sported what he must have imagined to be an ensemble suitable for country wear. A coat of dark brown velvet clung lovingly to his plump person, set off by a pair of fawn pantaloons. His waistcoat was a miracle of creamy, silken perfection from which only two fobs depended. “I have caught you out at last. You said the villa was of no importance, but, ‘pon rep, it looks to be quite impressive. I knew you would not mind my coming to have a look. One of your servants was kind enough to give me directions.”

James sent a fierce glare to Robert, who flung up his hands and shook his head. “Mr. Cheeke,” he said tersely, “arrived at the house when I was momentarily away. A footman directed him to your diggings.”

“I see,” continued Mordecai expansively, “you have made a good start here.” He gestured toward the strings with which Hilary had begun her grid. “The area looks to be quite large indeed. Do you think that section over there might reveal craft buildings? I understand that many of the villas hereabouts were supported by weaving.” His gaze shifted to Hilary and Rufus, who were staring at him in some curiosity. “I did not know you were entertaining visitors, old man.”

Unwillingly, James moved forward. “Lady Hilary Merton, may I present Mr. Mordecai Cheeke. Mr. Cheeke is interested in the study of antiquities.” He gestured to Rufus. “And this is my friend, Mr., ah, Rufio. He speaks no English, I’m afraid.”

Rufus inclined his head and extended his arm, lifting his forearm into a Roman salute. Mordecai blinked, but said only, “My gracious! If he speaks no English, how do you communicate? Perhaps he speaks French? Or one of the other languages in which you arc so fluent?”

James shook his head. Mordecai’s expression was one of simple, benign interest, but James was convinced that he had grasped instantly the fact that James was trying to hide something from him. “We usually speak through an interpreter, but the man is ill today. Now, then, what can I do for you, Cheeke? Have you come for a purpose?”

Mordecai smiled engagingly. “I suppose I should do the pretty and simply say that I wished to visit further with an esteemed colleague, but I may as well be completely honest.” He flung his arms out in a gesture of simple, open sincerity. “I am intensely curious about your villa. I don’t think one of this evident size has been discovered in quite some time, and I’m sure it holds secrets to delight the heart of an old antiquary like myself.”

James’s voice bore only the slightest edge as he replied. “One hates to disappoint an old antiquary’s heart, Cheeke, but any delight taken in the secrets of this particular villa will remain at present solely for the edification of its owner. That would be me.”

Mordecai’s smile remained undiminished. He merely shrugged and allowed his glance to stray to Hilary. His eyes widened.

“Bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “Can this be the lady upon whom your heart has settled at last, James?” He made a sweeping bow and hastened forward to grasp Hilary’s hand in his own. He ignored James’s startled grunt and Hilary’s gasp of affront. “Mordecai Cheeke at your service, ma’am.” He planted a hearty kiss on her nerveless fingers.

Hilary said nothing in reply, merely gaping at him in stunned silence. Had she heard the man aright? She glanced at James wildly, but the scholar’s composure had momentarily deserted him. He stared back at her, in blank incomprehension.

.A strangled gasp sounded from the young man identified as James’s secretary.

“Oh, but—” he began.

“I must say,” Mordecai burbled on, “you are a lucky man, old friend. She is a diamond of the first water. What a sly devil you are, trumpeting your undying intention to remain single, when all the time, this lovely maiden awaited you in the wilderness. Like Sleeping Beauty,” he rhapsodized, “awaiting the kiss of her prince!”

James was fairly goggling at the man and Hilary felt as though she must be doing the same. She opened her mouth to confound his misinformed impertinence, but her glance was suddenly caught by James’s secretary, who stood behind Mr. Cheeke, screwing his face into what looked like a plea.

After a moment of confused thought, she bobbed a slight curtsy and murmured, “So, um, p-pleased to meet you, sir.”

“What the devil are you blathering about, Cheeke?” James snapped.

“Why, your young friend here—oh, dear, perhaps he was not to have said anything.” Cheeke’s eyes, black as currants, sparkled with mischief. “But, yes, he has told us your real reason for purchasing Goodhurst.”

“Oh?” James’s voice was winter ice. Hilary merely stared in bewilderment.

Mr. Cheeke rocked back and forth on his heels. “I see you are keeping your interest a secret, you sly devil. I shall say no more then.” He turned to Hilary. “I understand you are interested in antiquities, my dear.”

“W-why, yes,” replied Hilary, a trifle breathlessly, aware of the young man’s continued gestures in the background. What was his part in this ludicrous scene? To Mr. Cheeke, she said with a becoming blush, “Indeed, your name is known to me, sir. I have seen it often in my reading.”

Mr. Cheeke swelled visibly. “I’m pleased that you are familiar with my efforts to uncover the glory that was Rome in our own country. Which of my works have you read?”

“Oh,” replied Hilary, scrabbling furiously in her mind. “Why, just the other day, I read your article in
The Gentleman’s Magazine
concerning your find in Kent. A temple to Ceres, is it not? I thought it curious that such an edifice would have been uncovered in an area that supposedly remained dedicated to local gods.”

Mordecai turned a startled gaze on her.

James smiled, oddly proud of his protégé’s display of expertise. He shook himself. Never mind that now. His immediate priority was to get rid of Cheeke with all possible speed. Which would be no easy task. Perhaps—

“Jasper!” Hilary was burning with embarrassment as she moved toward the animal. Doglike, he was subjecting Mordecai to a thorough investigation, concentrating on certain intimate portions of the gentleman’s anatomy concealed by his pantaloons.

“Leave Mr. Cheeke alone, you dreadful creature.”

Obediently, Jasper moved away, but chose this moment to mark the villa site as his own. Unfortunately, he took little account of his aim. Thus, Mordecai found himself liberally sprinkled with the residue that splashed from the stones.

His immediate reaction to this outrage was to hurl a curse at the dog and to strike at him with his walking stick. Jasper’s immediate reaction to what he considered an entirely unprovoked attack was to sink his teeth into the fleshy part of Mordecai’s calf.

Chapter Eleven

Mordecai’s howls of anguish and outrage echoed over the ruined walls and pavements of the ancient remains. Shaking with suppressed laughter, Hilary moved forward to restrain Jasper.

“I am so
very
sorry, Mr. Cheeke,” she said, schooling her features into an apologetic expression. “Jasper seems to have taken an unaccountable dislike to you.” She made a great show of pulling the dog away from his victim. “I’m very much afraid I won’t be able to hold him much longer. He is such a large animal, you see. Perhaps you’d better—”

But Mordecai needed no further urging. With one hand clapped to his abused calf, he hobbled toward the curricle he had left standing nearby.

“Wretched beast!” he screamed from a safe distance. “Damned creature’s a menace—ought to be shot!”

With these and other maledictions, he mounted his vehicle and clattered off. In a few moments he was out of sight, leaving Hilary to give way, for the second time that day, to the gales of laughter that convulsed her.

“Good dog, Jasper!” exclaimed James, rumpling the dog’s ears vigorously. Jasper grinned malevolently and thumped his tail.

“Good God, that
is
a dog, isn’t it?” remarked Robert, who had remained silent during the altercation. “I was wondering, rather.”

“And
I
was wondering—” began James with some asperity, only to break off his sentence as Rufus sank suddenly onto a stone wall. James moved to him. “What is it,
optima
?”

For Rufus was looking decidedly unwell. A grayish pallor had spread over his face and a cold perspiration misted his forehead.

“N-nothing,” replied the warrior. “I just came over strange for a minute. I’m all right now.”

Indeed, the color had already begun to return to his cheeks, and he straightened his shoulders. James, assuring himself that Rufus was in no serious distress, turned again to Robert. “I was wondering just how it came about that Cheeke was able to make his way to the site unimpeded. And what the devil is this about a supposed, er, attachment between myself and Lady Hilary?” he asked, flushing. “Oh,” he said, turning back to Hilary. “Lady Hilary Merton, may I present Robert Newhouse, my secretary, who has apparently taken leave of his senses.”

Robert bowed to Hilary and shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry, sir. I had gone into the village to fetch those cigarillos you ordered. I did not expect Cheeke would appear so soon, but I had left orders to everyone in the house—or so I had thought—not to admit Cheeke or to allow him onto the estate grounds. It must be supposed that young Binks didn’t get the word. At any rate, as soon as I arrived home and discovered that Cheeke was on his way to the villa, I hurried to intercept him. To no avail, as you saw.”

“Mph,” James grunted. “But, what about—”

“Yes,” interrupted Hilary. “What was that, pray, about the awakening of my maiden’s heart and all that other drivel?”

Robert reddened and shuffled his feet. “Almost as soon as I caught up with him, Cheeke started in.” He turned to James. “He asked questions about your purchase of the estate and what you expected to find at the villa and so on. I told him, of course, that yes, I believed your primary purpose in buying the estate was to gain access to the villa and that you hoped to uncover some unusual artifacts and, perhaps, a center for some sort of craft industry—and so on.

“He seemed to accept that, but then he started prosing on about what else you were looking for! The man simply would not let up. I had to say something that would account for your wishing to be left alone—for I know you don’t want him finding out about the soldier.” He gestured toward Rufus, who was poking aimlessly about the crumbling stones.

“Then an idea struck me. I know it was outrageous, and completely buffleheaded, but it just sort of blossomed full-blown in my brain. And, at that point, I was desperate. I put on a sort of hangdog expression as though he’d finally broken me, and said that you had come to Gloucestershire with a view to marriage and that you had settled on Lady Hilary Merton.”

“What?” gasped Hilary.

“You—told—him—
what?”
James felt the hair lifting on his scalp.

“I’m truly sorry, ma’am,” Robert said to Hilary, “but you are the only female in these parts with whose name I’m familiar. In any event,” he continued, turning again to James, “I told him that your relatives have been after you to marry, and—”

“Well, that’s true enough,” muttered James, earning him a hard look from Hilary.

“And I said that you and Lord Clarendon were old friends and that his daughter was an amateur antiquary. I mentioned your estates marching together. I told him you did not want to mingle with friends and acquaintances while you were pressing your suit and I told him the arrangements were all but final, but you were keeping it quiet for the time being because of illness in Lady Hilary’s family. At last, he appeared to be convinced.”

Robert threw up his hands. “I’m truly sorry, sir, but he was like a burr. I had to tell him something, or he would have known I was hiding something.”

To Hilary’s astonishment, James chuckled. “Well, I must say I always knew you were an inventive fellow, but I had no idea of the extent of your talent. It was a near thing, young Robert, but I should imagine no harm was done,”