Clearly fashionable garments should be added to the list of items that would not hold back a true collector, Cam thought wryly.
And since there was no way he would allow the other two men to comb the shore for finds while he lingered behind, he too got to his feet.
Ben looked at the trio with a sigh of resignation. “Let me get my coat. And I’ll have my man make sure there is hot tea and coffee waiting for us when we return. One moment.”
He hurried downstairs, leaving the three collectors alone.
“You know where the cellar is, do you not?” Sir Everard’s tone indicated that he expected to be led there. Immediately.
It would be rude for them to set off without Ben, but on the other hand, the sooner Sir Everard saw the shore, the sooner he could be rid of the fellow.
“Follow me.”
By the time they stepped through the cellar door leading into a short stone passageway, Ben had joined them, as had his butler and footman, who carried hot bricks and a flask of brandy. It was an odd parade, but Cam supposed they’d all seen odder ones. Collectors often found themselves going out in inclement weather and strange circumstances. The hope of a rare find was greater than self-preservation at times.
As soon as the men emerged from the door onto the shore, which was bordered on one side by an angry-looking sea and on the other by steep chalk cliffs, it was evident that last night’s storm had done more than simply dredge things up.
The far end of the cliffs, where the beach first began to bow inward from the water’s edge, had begun to erode away from the overhang above. And in one spot in particular there appeared to be a large stone sticking out of the chalk, like a hand waving for help.
“There,” shouted Sir Everard before he all but sprinted over the pebble beach toward the mudslide.
It was a good way to twist an ankle, but even so, Cam jogged after him, followed by Lord Paley and Benedick.
By the time Cam reached the base of the cliff from which the stone protruded, Sir Everard had already begun to climb against the wind and through the sucking mud toward what would likely turn out to be a piece of wood. Not willing to risk his own safety by stepping into what might be unstable ground, Cam examined the trail that the other man’s boots had left as he’d climbed.
Was that the mark of a walking stick, he wondered, leaning down to take a closer look at what looked to be a hole in the mud.
“He is particularly eager,” Ben said as he and Paley reached Cam’s side. “I should think he’d wait until better weather if he wanted to search this bit of cliff.”
This would be the time to tell his brother about the Beauchamp Lizard, but with Lord Paley there to listen in, and perhaps tell what he’d overheard to Sir Everard, he dared not. And there was the added issue that anything he told Ben would most assuredly make it back to Sophia and therefore Gemma.
“It is a skull, I believe,” shouted Sir Everard from his higher vantage point. “I do not have my tools. We’ll need to dig with our hands.”
It was clear from his “we” that he meant the three other men should come up and assist him. An idea which Cam didn’t think particularly sound given the fact that the mud might give out from beneath them without warning. But Lord Paley and even Ben began to make the careful climb upwards, so not wishing to be the odd man out, he went after them.
Soon they were all sunk boot-deep into the mud around the piece and having decided to ruin their gloves rather than lose fingers in the cold, began to dig.
They were almost to the point where they might be able to shift the piece to loosen the mud’s hold on it, when a shout came floating on the wind.
Cam thought he might have imagined it, but then he heard it again, this time more incensed and sounding very much like Miss Gemma Hastings.
“What are you doing?” she shouted. And when he dared to look over his shoulder, he saw her, bundled up in a large coat, her scarf wound tightly round her neck, and a walking stick in one hand, a case of tools in the other. “Step away from there at once!”
Whether she shouted from anger or because they would not have been able to hear her otherwise, he didn’t know. But from her expression, he suspected it was the former.
Behind her, he saw George, the footman-turned-butler, with a pry bar in his hand.
And suddenly he realized that the mark he’d seen in the mud had been from a walking stick.
Gemma’s walking stick.
“This is Miss Hastings’ find,” he told Sir Everard. “I saw the mark of her walking stick but didn’t make the connection until now.”
Sir Everard, who was elbow deep in mud and struggling to loosen the earth around the fossil, grunted. Then, as if realizing what Cam had said, he shook his head. “That’s impossible. There’s no way a lady can have got this far up the slope. I found this myself. You saw me do it.”
“I demand you come down here at once.” Her voice was closer now, and yes, it was definitely anger he’d first heard there. She was livid if he didn’t miss his guess.
And at the moment he couldn’t blame her.
“Sir Everard,” he said, trying to sound reasonable, though he was feeling anything but. “This is Beauchamp House land. Surely you can recognize that even if you were the first to discover this piece, by rights it should go to the owner of the house.”
“You know that won’t hold up in court, Lord Cameron,” the big man said with a huff of exertion. “Besides, I came here to find the Beauchamp Lizard. If this is something similar I won’t let it out of my grasp. You know how important something like this can be for a collector’s reputation.”
He did know, which was why he wanted Gemma to have it. She’d obviously been here while they were at the vicarage.
“This is wrong,” he said firmly. “I beg you will reconsider.”
“Sir Everard,” said Lord Paley, who had risen from his crouch beside the hole the men had managed to dig around the fossil. “If Lord Cameron is right, then the fossil belongs to the lady. I cannot think you would abandon your honor simply to enrich your own collection.”
But Sir Everard’s expression was mulish. “I mean to have it. And none of you will stop me from getting it.”
Chapter 6
Gemma stood her booted feet braced against the wind that threatened to knock her over with its force as she waited for some response from the men on the slope. It would be difficult to hold a conversation, it was true, given the sound of the wind, but at least one of them had heard her. She’d seen clearly enough the look of understanding on Cam’s face as he’d turned to her.
“George,” she said to the butler, “come with me. We must get my skull away from them.”
“But Miss Hastings,” he argued, “I can’t just take it away. They’re gentlemen. And Lord Benedick is there. He’s a vicar. It ain’t—isn’t—right.”
He’d been trying to correct his grammar since rising from footman to butler, and if she weren’t fuming, Gemma would have smiled at the correction. It had taken a month of lessons, but his speech was improving by the minute.
But she was fuming. All because of the gentlemen assembled.
Perhaps excepting Ben, who cared as much for fossils as his wife did.
“George, that is my fossilized skull.” She turned to look him in the eye as she spoke. “I would not mind if Lord Benedick were to take it, because he would most likely give it to me. But the rest are not to be trusted.” She didn’t even bother to mention Lord Cameron because her disappointment in him was keen. She’d thought they’d come to some kind of understanding today. That he’d at long last recognized her as a fellow scientist. But his attitude had been as ephemeral as the waves washing onto the shore beside her.
She almost jumped out of her skin when the man himself appeared beside George.
His approach had been hushed by the wind, she realized.
A glance at him revealed that he’d been just as immersed in the mud on the cliff as the others had been. Even his neckcloth was spatter
ed with the stuff.
“I have tried to convince Sir Everard to give up his claim on the fossil,” he told her without preamble, “but he refuses.”
Ben, looking equally bedraggled, came up beside his brother. “The man is a little unhinged, I’m afraid,” he said in a low voice. “He keeps going on about lizards and Lady Celeste.”
“It is the skull of a marine lizard,” Gemma said with a frown. “Others have been found hereabouts but this one is much larger than any I’ve seen or heard of. Which is why it is so important that I’m able to claim it for my own collection. It is my find.”
“I know how important it is,” Lord Cameron said with more sympathy than Gemma thought he’d offer her. “But, for what it’s worth, I don’t think he’ll be able to shift it out of that mud today. The weather is too damp to get a grip on it and without the proper tools, it will be impossible.”
“Which is why I brought these,” Gemma said raising her case of digging tools.
They turned to look at the slope, and saw Lord Paley throw his hands into the air and began the slow descent down to the rock-covered shore. When he reached their huddle, he too was exasperated. “I tried to convince him that he should leave it to you, Miss Hastings,” he said, frowning as he tightened his muddy scarf around his neck. “But he is like a dog with a … well, a bone, I suppose.”
The play on words made them all laugh, defusing the situation a bit.
They were silent for a few moments as they tried to figure out what to do.
“What if we allow him to think you’ve capitulated?” Cam asked thoughtfully. “He obviously has no intention of leaving the field to you at the moment. But he cannot stay here all night, and he’ll need help to remove it. You can tell him you’ve decided to let him have it. Then once he’s gone, we’ll come back and remove it.”
“I do not like to advocate telling falsehoods,” Ben said his brows drawn, “but in this instance, I think it may be the only way you will get your fossil, Gemma. For it is quite plain that Sir Everard will not give up the field until he’s convinced you won’t take it from him.”
Gemma didn’t like the idea of lying to get what rightfully belonged to her. “How can I be sure he won’t send someone to get it in the meantime?”
“We’ll be going back to Pearson Close with him,” said Lord Paley. “I will ensure that he doesn’t send anyone back. I give you my word.”
“You and I will come at first light to retrieve it,” he said, turning back to her. “Long before Sir Everard has a chance to dispatch anyone or to come here again himself. But you’ll have to leave it for now, if only to prove to Sir Everard now that you’ve given up the fight.”
She looked through the dimming light toward where the baronet still tried to shift the fossil. As if he felt her gaze on him, he looked up then and gave her a defiant stare.
She’d known she disliked him during his visit, but she’d not guessed just how much contempt he felt for her. Clearly his flattery and interest had been a ruse to get close to the collection.
“All right,” she said, finally, turning back to the others. “I’ll do it. Tell him I have no intention of claiming it, and that he may come back tomorrow to get it. But I hope you will be prepared to protect me tomorrow when he discovers it’s gone.”
“The prior claim is yours, Miss Hastings,” Lord Paley assured her. “And besides. Are not ladies allowed the prerogative of changing their minds?”
She didn’t bother to tell him the myriad of ways in which such an assumption made life in male-dominated fields more difficult for ladies.
At this point, she’d fought for her scholarly sisters enough for one day.
“I think it would probably be better if you were not here when we convince him to leave with us.” Cam’s expression was that of a man who knows he will be contradicted.
But Gemma was tired of conflict. “I’ll go back to the house. But I’m trusting you to ensure he doesn’t stay, or find some way to remove the skull before I have a chance to come back.”
“I give you my word,” Cam said, echoing Lord Paley. Despite their previous arguments, Gemma believed him.
“Come, my dear.” Lord Benedick gestured to her. “I’ll escort you back to the house while these two deal with the tantrum Sir Everard is likely to have when they make him depart.”
With one last look over her shoulder to where the baronet stood hunched over the skull, Gemma allowed her brother-in-law to lead her away.
Behind her she heard Lord Cameron say in a low voice, “This might get ugly.”
She didn’t linger to hear how the other man responded.
For the first time in a long while, she let someone else handle things.
* * *
If possible, the carriage ride back to Pearson Close was more uncomfortable than the scene at the cliff had been.
Cam and Paley were silent as Sir Everard raged about their failure to intervene on his behalf. “You may as well have been stone statues,” he said with disgust. “If the skull is gone when I arrive tomorrow, you mark my words, I will sue.”
Mentally, Cam ran through the list of solicitors who might defend Gemma against the baronet’s baseless claims. Because now, more than ever, he intended to remove the fossil and get it into her hands as quickly as possible. Sir Everard was not only a bully, but his determination to effectively rob Gemma of what—whether it was the Beauchamp Lizard or not—by rights belonged to her, or to the Beauchamp House estate, had solidified Cam’s determination to thwart him. Not only was he the worst possible representative of the fossil-collecting community as a whole—and Cam had little doubt he’d use the fossil to puff himself up as far more influential than he actually was—but he was simply a small-minded boor.
Fortunately for Cam and Paley, when they returned to Pearson Close, the baronet chose not to tell all and sundry about his having been thwarted by a scheming harpy (his term) because his fear that someone else would swoop in and take the fossil was greater than his need for consolation. Or maybe, Cam thought cynically, he wasn’t sure which side his fellow collectors would take. Lady Celeste’s reputation had been impeccable among the fossil-collecting community, and there were many among Pearson’s guests who had admired her.
Acquaintance with Sir Everard, however, did much to reveal the illusory nature of his accomplishments.
Mindful that servants’ gossip could ruin the plan to save the fossil from Sir Everard, Cam made his way to the Pearson stables after dinner to request his mount be ready before sunup, and swore the man to secrecy.
Later, as he lay in bed staring up at the damask canopy, he considered the idea of using this time spent with Gemma to assess her as a potential bride.
There was something attractive about the idea of marrying someone who would be able to understand his passion for collecting as well as trying to place the things he found within the scientific history of the earth.
And she was lovely. It would not be a hardship to bed her, of that he was certain.
But it was these things that also made him wary of her.
He’d long ago come to the conclusion that he needed the sort of wife who was affectionate but not particularly dependent on him for her happiness.
When he was a youth he’d seen just how destructive it could be when a husband was distant—or in his father’s case—was unfaithful. He had seen the light go out of his mother’s eyes in the space of a few months. And though she’d seemed to recover later, Cam couldn’t help but feel that it would have been better if the Duke and Duchess of Pemberton had maintained some distance from another from the start. That way his mother would never have had to be hurt at all.
Cam had no intention to commit infidelity, but thought it better, since he was his father’s son, not to put himself in a situation where it would even matter. Unbidden the memory of Gemma’s animation yesterday when she was talking about the collection came to his mind. She was lit from within. So passionate. He simply could not be responsible for snuffing
that light.
No matter how much he was drawn to her.
His decision made, he turned on his side and tried to sleep.
* * *
“It simply doesn’t make sense to risk your neck on the cliff stairs when there is a perfectly functional corridor through the wine cellar,” Serena said as she and Gemma breakfasted the next morning at a far earlier hour than was their custom.
Both the chaperone and Sophia had been incensed on Gemma’s behalf the day before when they learned of Sir Everard’s attempt to steal the lizard fossil. Sophia had even offered to come along with her when she returned to retrieve it, but Gemma, knowing just how much her sister detested getting up early, had assured her it would not be necessary.
Serena, however, had at the very least insisted on being there when Gemma set out with Cam, Stephens and the footman Edward.
And true to her word, she had been at the breakfast table when Gemma came down.
Her suggestion that the excavation party should use the secret passageway had been a surprise, however.
Gemma was not particularly fond of enclosed spaces and had not been through the tunnel more than once or twice because of it. “I will give Stephens and Edward, and even Lord Cameron, leave to use the passageway. But I will be using the cliff stairs.”
At Serena’s scowl of frustration, she continued, “Despite the harshness of the wind, the view of the sea as one descends the stairs is one of my favorite things about Beauchamp House’s location. I won’t deny myself unless I absolutely must.”
The chaperone looked as if she’d like to argue further, but perhaps seeing Gemma’s expression, she sighed. “I won’t press the point,” Serena said. “But, I do think it might be easier to remove your bone without being seen by having George and William carry it up through the passageway.”
It was something Gemma hadn’t considered. “That is sensible. Especially considering that Sir Everard may very well arrive while we are there. Cam’s note said that he and Lord Paley were able to convince him to leave it until some of the others from Pearson Close could accompany him and witness his triumph.”
One for the Rogue (Studies in Scandal) Page 7