The Scholar and the Scot

by Lee, Caroline

The gentlemen in the gathering seemed less than excited about the charades Lady Fangfoss had organized, and Olive noticed more than a few excusing themselves. But Lords Dorset and Rothbury settled into their places, and the way they each threw a possessive arm around the back of Clementine and Angeline’s chairs—respectively—told everyone the real reason they were remaining.

  And then, when Phineas rested his arm on the back of her chair, so his fingers brushed enticingly against her shoulder, Olive was torn between blushing and preening. He was practically staking his claim on her, and she was just a jumble of happy nerves at the thought.

  Anyone could see they were perfectly suited for one another, couldn’t they? Certainly, Phineas’s life experiences were much greater than hers, but she wanted—no, longed for—those same experiences, and he was treating her as if they were equal!

  Also, when it was her turn to perform, he guessed her charade—pedaling a bicycle—in very little time, therefore proving they were very well-matched indeed.

  Oh dear. I suspect I’m finding any excuse to fall in love with the man, aren’t I?

  The next three days were filled with more parlor games, crafting exhibitions, and more sketching painting than someone like Olive was comfortable with. After her attempt at sketching the gentlemen in Roman togas—really, who thought those were accurate—from a few weeks back, she’d avoided the arts whenever possible, but their hostess was persistent.

  Olive’s brother—and mostly missing chaperone—was happily ensconced in the game room with a few other guests, and he confided to her that he’d won enough to keep Mother and Father happily settled for the rest of their days. Olive was happy for Ash, and for their family, but it was hard to focus on anything besides Phineas.

  Because Monday evening, he kissed her again.

  They were standing together at the window in the library, each lost in their thoughts as they stared at the rain hitting the glass, highlighted by the occasional strike of lightening. Olive was idly wondering what the rain was doing to the dig site, and how many years of rain and river floods it would take to wear down the exposed Roman foundations, which had endured so much already, when she felt his hand on her arm.

  She turned to see the last of the guests had wandered out of the room at some point, leaving her and Phineas alone. That was all she had time to notice before his lips came crashing down upon hers, and she instantly lost the ability for all rational thought.

  Well, now she knew what he’d been standing there contemplating, didn’t she?

  This kiss was hot and desperate, and proved he’d just been waiting for a chance to be alone with her. Olive snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and was rewarded with a muffled little groan of need.

  His hands settled on her hips, but instead of pulling her closer, he turned them so she was flush against the window. The coolness pressed against her back, and then he was pressed against her front, trapping her in the most wonderful way. Delicious sensations were radiating from her middle down to her toes, and she instinctively tilted her pelvis forward, trying to relieve the ache with more pressure.

  His lips left hers, traveling down her jaw, while he murmured her name. Olive allowed her head to drop back against the window so his kisses could trail down her neck, and the throbbing between her thighs became even more insistent.

  “Olive,” he murmured again. “Aye, lass!”

  His brogue vibrated against her skin, and she realized she was panting with need, willing his hands to stray, to cup, to fondle, to—

  And then he wasn’t kissing her anymore. He wasn’t even holding her anymore.

  He was—magically—on the other side of the settee, reaching for a book, then straightening and flipping through it almost nonchalantly as two older women bustled into the room, chattering away.

  With a start, Olive turned enough so—she hoped—it would seem believable she was just staring out the window once more, not at all having been recently ravished.

  Moments away from orgasm.

  Desperate for more of his kisses.

  Falling in love.

  Perhaps it worked, because one of the matrons engaged Phineas in discussion about the kind of book she was hoping to find, and he was pleasant enough as he answered her questions, although Olive noticed his voice sounded strained.

  And he held the open book in front of his trousers, right at waist height.

  The thought she might’ve affected him as much as he’d affected her made her giddy with excitement…or perhaps arousal.

  That was the last of the kisses, but only because the two of them didn’t find themselves alone again. Still, the memory of that desperate embrace kept Olive warm. More than once, alone in her big bed in the guest hall of Fangfoss Manor, she touched herself and pretended they were his hands on her body.

  Tuesday found more forced Mandatory Fun, which led to much good-natured complaining among the guests as Miss Julia became more and more desperate. Her activities culminated in a guided tour of Lord Fangfoss’s collection of taxidermied frogs, and an explanation from the man on how he’d made their tiny little legs strong enough to support the taxidermied elephant’s foot, as well as the methods used to suspend their poor little bodies in the gelatin mimicking the miasma beyond the stars.

  It certainly was creative, but Olive couldn’t decide if she was horrified or fascinated. Perhaps a bit of both, and if the slightly green pallor of her fellow guests were any indication, they agreed.

  Wednesday afternoon was, thankfully, the scheduled theatricals, and Olive couldn’t think of a single time in her life she’d been grateful for being forced to participate in a theatrical performance, but at least it didn’t involve frogs.

  As with the previous Wednesday performances, Miss Julia handed out roles and scripts in the morning, which allowed the participants a few hours to scrounge costumes and work out their scenes. Thankfully, this week was Romeo and Juliet, which featured mostly men. The sufficiently waifish Miss Eleanor Grant was given the role of Juliet, while Melanie played her nurse.

  Grateful she hadn’t been cast in this performance, Olive settled into the audience between Ash and Charity, the latter of which kept her giggling with commentary under her breath, especially when Phineas stepped onto the makeshift stage, wearing his kilt, and proceeded to give Mercutio a decidedly Scottish flair.

  “If you keep eying his legs, dear Olive, your brother is bound to notice.”

  Olive leaned closer to her friend and matched her whisper, when she replied, “Don’t pretend you’re not looking as well. He has magnificent legs, doesn’t he?”

  Charity hummed teasingly and jabbed her elbow into Olive’s side. “How do they feel, hmm?”

  Feeling the blush begin to climb her cheeks, Olive glanced away from Phineas’s thumb-biting long enough to send her friend a censoring glare. “We haven’t been alone long enough to find out.”

  That set Charity giggling again, and Olive found she didn’t mind being the butt of her friend’s scandalous jokes for a change.

  When Viscount Wilton, giving a rather dispassionate performance as Benvolio, encouraged Mercutio and Tybalt—played by Dorset—to put away their swords or find a more private place for their duel, Phineas snarled back in defiance. It was one of Olive’s favorite lines, and she found herself mouthing it along with the man she was falling in love with.

  “Men’s eyes were made to look and let them gaze! I will not budge for no man’s pleasure.”

  Olive sighed at the emotion behind the line, and when Phineas turned to find her in the audience and offered her a secret smile, she wondered if he’d heard. She wondered if he understood the draw behind that line; unlike Charity, Olive had never been able to put aside her cares about what the world thought of her, but with Phineas, she felt as if she might do anything.

  Think of the adventures!

  Romeo’s entrance was a bit of a stumbling block—Lord Fangfoss himself had been cast in the role and kept pausing to glare at his wife for the a
ffront—but the duel between Dorset and Phineas was magnificent.

  After his death, the audience gave him a standing ovation, although Olive was certain she wasn’t the only woman standing in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his thighs as his kilt had rucked up on one side.

  Yes indeed. There might not have been any kissing, but Wednesday’s theatricals were much more interesting than the previous rainy day activities.

  And then, miracle of miracles, Olive woke Thursday morning to a bit of sun. There were still clouds in the sky, but Miss Julia—Lady Fangfoss!—was determined to make the most use out of the break in the weather. After breakfast, she announced the activity for the day would include a long walk along the river.

  Olive sent an excited look toward Phineas, who was dining with his sister, and saw him smile in return.

  A walk along the river meant a chance to examine the ruins and dig site! Granted, it would be muddy, but the opportunity was too good to pass up, and Olive knew this was their chance to solve the mystery of the missing sphaera.

  And perhaps find herself alone with a handsome Scotsman.

  Chapter 5

  “Well, this isnae the most pleasant walk I’ve ever been on.” Phineas pulled his boot out of the mud along the river trail with a sucking pop as he sent a smile to the dark-haired beauty on his arm. “But the company is among the best.”

  He was gratified by the way Olive blushed and the way she clung tighter to his arm. “Flatterer. I’m assuming you’ve been in far worse conditions, Abby.”

  Phin groaned at the diminutive for Aberdeen and saw her smirk in response, knowing her teasing has been successful. “Aberdeen is bad enough, lass, but dinnae expect me to answer to Abby!”

  “Deal.” She squeezed his arm and tilted her head back to catch a brief patch of sunshine. “But only if you tell me about your expedition to Central America once more.”

  Grinning, Phin settled into an easy pace as he recounted one of his favorite harrowing tales. Over the last several days, Olive had asked him questions about nearly every episode of his Adventures, and he was gratified to know she’d read them so thoroughly. She seemed thrilled when he’d share additional details or include parts of the story the editors of the journal had removed.

  Now, as before, Olive seemed entranced, focusing on his tales of derring-do in order to obtain artifacts for the Society of Archaeology’s collection. She was breathless in anticipation with each twist and turn, offering cheers and other reactions at the perfect moments.

  It was clear this woman wanted desperately to travel, to experience this kind of excitement, and Phin wanted to be the one to introduce her to the wide open world.

  But not for the first time, he wondered if it was Phineas Prince she was so enthralled with, or Aberdeen Jones.

  “You’ve developed an entirely new field, Phineas,” she said, when he finished his story. “Combat archaeology!”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “My professors at school would’ve been appalled at how quickly I yanked that idol from its resting place, but with Favreau’s men right behind me, I had to make it back to the canoe before they caught up.”

  “I’m glad you made it safely back so I could read about your adventure!” She squeezed his arm against her, and he felt the brush of her breast under the fabric of her summer gown. Their pace had taken them well ahead of the rest of the group. “There’s the dig site.”

  In unspoken agreement, the two of them increased their pace as much as was possible along the muddy trail, hoping to reach the ruins a few minutes ahead of the others.

  She released his arm and hurried to the site of the building where the sphaera had originally been found. As she turned in a circle, he saw the mud caking the hem of her skirts and liked that she ignored it. With his hands in his pockets, Phin rocked back on his heels, acknowledging his first impression was true: she’d make an excellent adventuring partner.

  “The golden sphaera was found right around here, correct?” She was pointing and chewing on her bottom lip in concentration.

  “We cannae ken the exact spot until we return with the charts, but aye, I would say that’s right around the location.” He stepped up beside her, pointing to the remains of the walls. “That section there would’ve been the front door, possibly a porch-type structure. There would’ve been a covering where the sphaerae were mounted.” Realizing who he was speaking to, he gave a self-deprecating little laugh. “Of course, I dinnae have to tell ye that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well…” He shrugged and sent her an encouraging smile. “Ye’re the expert on rooflines.” He should know; two days ago she’d read her paper out loud to him, and he’d been floored by the level of intelligence and insight it displayed.

  But now she blushed. “I don’t think I know more about Roman roofs than anyone else who’s studied them. And it’s not like that’s all I know; it’s just what I decided to write the paper on.”

  Inspired, he reached out and snagged her hand. “Ye’re brilliant, Olive L’arbre, and I’ll no’ allow ye to dismiss yer accomplishments.”

  Blushing harder, Olive twined her fingers through his and tugged. “Come along; let’s examine the site a bit more before the others arrive to muck it up. I want to trace the perimeter.”

  So, hand-in-hand, they followed the ruins of what was once the most important building in this little Roman outpost. It was impossible to tell it from the design of the building, but the fact it was capped with a golden sphaera—possibly two—indicated its importance.

  “The rear of the building is much less ornate,” she murmured as they picked their way along the backside. “Remember the columns the excavators found during the dig? It must’ve been an impressive sight when it was still standing.”

  “I’m certain it was.” They were in a little depression in the land, but Phin could hear the approaching group in the distance. “But the sphaera would’ve been on the front of the building, aye?”

  Instead of answering, Olive hummed thoughtfully, then dropped his hand, her gaze sweeping the area around the ruins. Before he could ask what she was so intent on, she stepped away from the dig site and crouched, reaching for one of the rocks on the ground.

  “What is it?” He stepped up beside her.

  She was chewing her lip thoughtfully as she reached for another rock, then a third and a fourth. She hefted them in her hands, still considering them.

  “Olive?”

  She jerked, as if pulled from her thoughts, then stood. Handing him two of the rocks, she quietly asked, “What do you notice?”

  Shrugging, he hefted the small oval stones and tried to see what she’d seen. “They look normal to me.”

  “They’ve been tumbled by water.”

  With a thoughtful frown, Phin brushed his thumb against the smooth edge. “Aye, these are river rocks. But the Derwent is right over there.” He nodded toward the old building which the original excavators had used as a headquarters, with the river just beyond it. “Ye can hear it from here.”

  “Yes.” She thoughtfully tapped the stone she still held. “So it would make sense for the river stones to be over there, but they’re not. All the stones along the rear of this building are smoothed like that, you see?”

  She was right. But…

  Phin tossed the rocks to the ground. “Rivers change course all the time. Perhaps, at one point, the Derwent flowed alongside the rear of this building, or even the entire settlement.”

  “Perhaps while it was being occupied.”

  He considered her suggestion. “Do ye think that’s important?”

  With a sigh, Olive pulled her spectacles from her nose and propped her hand on her hip. With her other hand, she massaged her eyes, then the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know. I think I’ve almost…” She blew out a breath. “Something’s nagging me, but I can’t identify it.”

  He stepped toward her, intent on comforting her, but a blur of movement caught his eye and he turned. “Hello, Ewan, lad,�
�� he blurted in surprise as the tow-headed imp barreled to a stop near the pair of them. “Yer mother allowed ye to come with the group, eh?”

  Without speaking, the boy beamed angelically up at him, and Phin chuckled as he reached out to tousle the lad’s hair. Ewan was good at appearing angelic, and then getting into mischief when everyone’s backs were turned.

  “Ye’re no’ getting into trouble, are ye?”

  The boy grinned, revealing the gap between his front teeth which made him look even sweeter, and shook his head.

  A laugh burst from Phin. “I dinnae believe that, laddie. Ye be careful around the river, aye?”

  The lad nodded silently, and then, to Phin’s surprise, turned and threw his arms around Olive’s middle. She sucked in a startled gasp and stumbled back to catch her balance, but then let out a chuckle of her own and hugged Ewan back.

  “You just keep being a good boy,” she admonished him, and the lad tilted his head back and looked up at her adoringly.

  Phin blinked in surprise. Not at the fact Olive obviously knew the lad, or that she had a soft spot for the wee rascal, but at the fierce burst of longing which had hit him at the sight of Olive with a child in her arms.

  She might think she wanted adventure and excitement, but one day, he knew she’d make a fine mother as well. Would she bring her children along on her adventures, or settle down? Phin had a beautiful manor home in the Highlands where he hoped to one day retire when he wasn’t teaching.

  Would she find it to her standards? Would she possibly consider joining him there?

  Yer thinking about marrying the lass, are ye no’?

  Phin hadn’t come to this party to find a companion, but now he’d found a woman who matched him and seemed fascinated by his experiences, why wouldn’t he want to spend the rest of his life having adventures with her and trying to live up to her expectations?

  Because she’s infatuated with Aberdeen Jones, no’ ye.

  Ah, aye, there was that nagging doubt again. Was it Phineas Prince she enjoyed spending time with, or the man who’d written of his adventures?