Page 23 of Jaxon (Gentlemen of War #4)

Jaxon

She did not answer.

I offered Miss Amelia my arm and she only hesitated briefly, studying me with her far too intelligent eyes. Our conversation had bled into areas I had tried quite hard to keep concealed. I was awestruck with what she had discerned of me thus far and captivated with her ever-mesmerizing mind. I only hoped her betrothed saw what I saw and that he merited her cleverness as much as he should. I nearly stopped walking and choked over the surprising string of envy that suddenly emerged.

What the devil was happening to me?

“This is such a lovely area.” Miss Amelia sighed as we strolled. The trees appeared richer in their varying shades of green from the excess moisture.

“Oh, you think so?” I chuckled. “I thought you would be cursing it by now.”

“Well, don’t be mistaken, I surely couldn’t live here…” she pursed her lips. “Of course, it is perfectly suitable for you, though.” She appeared to try again. “I mean, I’m certain many people might find it pleasant enough.”

I laughed out loud. “Do not fret, Miss Amelia, I am not affronted.” She smiled in return with an added appearance of relief. “The Unburdened does not compare to a London townhome, that is for certain.”

“The Unburdened?” she questioned.

I stilled. How could I possibly explain the name without revealing my status. The reason it was called The Unburdened was because my father was the Duke of Camberley and his younger brother—being the second son, like me—had no burdens. Which was entirely false but had become a family jest.

“Unwanted, I suppose. Nobody but my uncle wanted to be here.”

“I see.” She smiled again and I found it difficult to draw my eyes from such a sight. “And have you been to London, Mr. Jack?” she asked.

I knew she already surmised that answer. “Call me Jack, please.”

She stared at me. Her cheeks darkened just a tad. “Will you call me Amelia?”

I felt my heart pounding in my ears. Was I treading into dangerous conditions? “If you wish.”

“I do.” She smiled wider this time and I noticed how a small dimple appeared in her upper cheek near her cheekbone. “Now, London.”

“Yes, I have family there and have been there for business.”

“Business?”

I laughed. “Just because I live simply does not mean I cannot have friends or associates who live differently.”

Her brows furrowed. “I envy your freedom.”

“As a lady of the ton , surely you have few disappointments.”

“Certainly, society is wonderful, and I adore museums and the opera particularly.”

A woman after my own heart . I nearly bit my tongue. “What of balls? Soirees? Almacks?”

She stopped moving and faced me. “You know a great deal of the societal demands of London, Jack.”

I kept my features clear. She had already shown me how observant she was, but I was not yet ready to reveal my true self —there was too much at stake. With no post getting through, I was ignorant to Hunter and Zach’s recent findings and whether Lord Sinclair, Mr. Groves, or the mystery man had discovered my whereabouts. Just revealing my identity could put this woman in jeopardy.

“The water has recessed a bit.” I pointed to the river in a clear effort to change the subject. “Come, Amelia, there’s a chance we might find more belongings after all.”

The additional rains from yesterday must have washed away the remnants of anything identifiable. Despite our efforts, we did not locate anything worth salvaging, but we took our time walking along the bank of the river and I found the ease of our conversation more enjoyable than I believed possible, wishing it would not end too soon.

“So, tell me more about the Rosetta Stone. What fascinates you about it?”

She tightened her grasp around my arm, though I don’t believe she recognized that she did this. I was unsure if this was from nerves or excitement.

“Where was it found?” I pressed further.

She peered down at her half boots—her only pair—now weathered and frayed. Sighing, she asked, “Is your inquiry in earnest, sir?”

I stopped walking and looked at her. “Certainly.” Then it suddenly occurred to me the great lengths she may have gone to keep her intellect a secret. Such behavior did not surprise me. London society was not kind to women with bright minds. It was well-established as an undesired attribute.

I, for one, found it incredibly desirable.

She smiled faintly. “The stone was found in Alexandria by a French officer fighting for Napoleon. However, the British acquired possession of it and in 1802 brought it to the British Museum.”

“I believe I read somewhere that it is not all ancient hieroglyphics. Is that true?” I asked.

“Indeed, a portion is in Egyptian Demotic script, like hieratic, though I don’t know much more about that language other than its name. The third language is Ancient Greek.”

I marveled at the way her face lit up when she spoke about the stone. I saw it once nearly six years ago. The black granite-type rock stood over a meter high and almost a meter wide. It was quite the sight to see with its engraved symbols and cryptic language.

“I’m not sure they should have rubbed white chalk over the etchings just so we could see them more clearly,” she said as we turned around and made our way back toward the lodge following the same path along the bank. “It might affect the composite surface over time.”

My smile broadened, fascinated with her interest in how future generations might not have the same preserved experience, then my entire being felt heartened because this had been one of the best days I had so far since I arrived here. “I’m impressed.”

Amelia glanced up at me, her eyelashes drawing my full attention with a look of dismay. “About what?”

Only one word felt truly fit to answer.

“Everything.”