Page 82 of John Eyre

“You needn’t stand on ceremony with me. Certainly not on an afternoon like this.” With that, she removed her hat and wound the veil about the brim. “Suffocating thing.”

“You might need it. The sun can be oppressive at this time of day.”

“Nonsense. It’s cool enough here. Come beneath the trees with me. Walk awhile.”

He draped his coat over his arm. Despite his best intentions—all of his resolve to remain aloof and to remember his place—he found himself settling into her company as easily as breathing. “I understand you went to London.”

“Much good it did me.”

“Your solicitor was unhelpful?

“My solicitor?” She cast him a glance. “What has he to do with it?”

“Nothing, except that Mr. Fairfax told me you were visiting the man.”

“I did visit Mr. Hughes. He’s seeing to some tedious financial matters for me, settlements and so forth.”

Settlements and so forth?

John’s chest constricted. He’d been right, then. She was planning to marry. “I see.”

“You don’t. Mr. Hughes wasn’t the reason I went to London.” She squinted her eyes at the boys playing in the distance. “I went there to call on a particular gentleman. The same gentleman I call on every time I go into town. His name is Mr. Samuel Birch. He works at the British Museum.”

Jealousy was temporarily replaced by curiosity. John gave her an interested look. “What do you want with him?”

“Many things. For one, he knows more about ancient Egypt that anyone else employed there. For another, he can read Egyptian hieroglyphs. He’s working on several translations of ancient texts at the moment—though not quickly enough, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Is that what you require? A translation?”

“Something like.” Her arm brushed his as they walked. The briefest caress, however unintentional.

“I wasn’t aware you had an interest in ancient Egypt.”

“You must know I traveled there.”

“Yes, but—”

“My father was an enthusiast. The kind who admires other men’s adventures from afar. He subscribed to all the popular journals. As a girl, I often read them—the parts I could understand. The pictures caught my imagination. It seemed the grandest thing to travel there. To see the pyramids for myself. To observe a tomb being excavated.”

“Did you? When you visited?”

“Oh yes. I did all of those things. It was glorious.” A frown tugged at her mouth. “I met my husband in Egypt.”

“I know.”

“Mr. Fairfax again? He does rattle on about me, doesn’t he?”

“He’s very loyal.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose. Loyalty.” She sighed. It was a weary sound. As if the burdens of her life had finally got the better of her. “Tell me truthfully, John. How have you fared while I’ve been away?”

“I’ve kept busy with teaching the boys.”

“And with drawing and painting?”

“That, too.” He strolled a few steps in silence before adding, “I’ve rarely seen Mr. Poole about since that night. Only once at the stable, busy at his forge. He addressed me as if nothing untoward had happened.”

A scowl briefly marred her brow. “I told you not to worry about him. He has his duties, just as you have yours. Best to leave him alone.”