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“I beg your pardon, my lord, my lady, Miss Norton,” he said. “Mr. Buckland is come.”
Wakefield stepped aside, and Henry walked into the room wearing a dark-blue jacket and brown breeches, with his satchel across his shoulder.
Henry’s annoyance at seeing Lord Culham seated in Aunt Millward’s drawing room was immediately followed by an intense—and uncomfortably telling—stab of jealousy.
At Wakefield’s announcement, the dandy rose. “Good day, Buckland.”
“Culham.”
Henry barely acknowledged the man before turning his gaze on Emily’s sweet face. She smiled, and his heart responded. He’d been a fool to stay away so long. How many other gentlemen had come to call on her while he’d been immersed in identifying artifacts?
“Henry, how lovely to see you.”
Aunt Millward’s voice was a timely reminder that Emily was not the only lady in the room. He turned and bowed. “Thank you, Aunt.”
“I hope you will join us for tea.” She gave him a pointed look. “Lord Culham, Emily, and I were just talking about worms.”
Worms? He must have misheard her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Worms,” his aunt repeated firmly. “Such as the ones Emily is wont to dig up occasionally.”
His head swiveled back to face Emily, and for the first time, he noticed her hands. They were clasped tightly, the dirt caked on her fingers clearly visible against her cream-colored gown. He lifted his gaze and caught her subtle nod.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not realize that Lord Culham shared Emily’s interest in invertebrates.”
Culham, Henry was gratified to note, was looking distinctly uneasy and had yet to resume his seat.
“Fascinating creatures,” Culham blustered. “Although, I can’t say that I have ever studied them extensively.”
“Then you are come to the right place, my lord. Miss Norton can tell you anything you wish to know on the subject,” Aunt Millward said.
A lady who dug up worms. A titled gentleman who delivered sheep. Henry recognized the pattern and the motive. Aunt Millward was up to her old tricks, and she had his wholehearted support.
“Most certainly,” Henry said. “Indeed, if you are a fishing enthusiast, Culham, Miss Norton can also advise you on the most effective bait.”
Culham’s narrow-set eyes widened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he was saved from responding by the arrival of a footman.
“Ah, here is the tea,” Aunt Millward said, exhibiting no qualms whatsoever about partaking of a hot drink and a piece of cake after speaking of worms and fish bait. “Please, sit down, gentlemen.”
“As loath as I am to leave, I fear I must decline your offer of refreshment, my lady.” Culham had found his voice, and if his stiffened stance was any indication, he had no intention of reclaiming his seat. “I thank you and Miss Norton for your hospitality and enlightening conversation, but I have a matter of business that I must attend to before day’s end.”
“What a shame.” Aunt Millward’s expression was so sorrowful, Henry half expected her to invite the gentleman back another time. Instead, she and Emily stood. “Thank you for coming, my lord.”
Culham bowed. “Of course.” He turned to Emily, his jaw tightening as his gaze landed on her soiled fingers. “Miss Norton, I bid you farewell.”
Emily bobbed a curtsy. “Farewell, my lord.”
With a cursory nod directed at Henry, Culham walked out of the room. No one else moved. Silence descended on the drawing room until the front door thudded closed, and then Aunt Millward dropped into her chair with an unladylike whoosh.
“Praise the heavens,” she said.
Henry grinned. “Is that what you say every time I leave too?”
“I almost said it when you walked in.” His aunt gave him a stern look. “You gave me quite a scare when you questioned our choice of subject matter, but thankfully, you rallied in the end.”
With a chuckle, Henry waited for Emily to take her seat and then slid his satchel off his shoulder and placed it on the floor before claiming Culham’s spot on the sofa. “Emily’s dirty hands were a nice touch. I shall have to suggest to Benedict that he acquire some props.”
Emily gasped. “I must go and wash them before we have tea.”
