Page 27 of The Butler and the Bluestocking
“Yes, please.” He put the coin in his pocket.
Two wine goblets in hand, Malcolm followed Nedhelm to where the ladies sat.
He took a seat in the chair nearest Bess and handed her a goblet, setting his own on the table. “Lady Elizabeth,” Malcolm said. “Herbert has just shown me the most amazing piece. He believes this to be the first coin ever discovered that was of Viking manufacture.” He held the metal disk out to her in the palm of his hand.
“Truly?” She took the metal from him, too curious about the silver disk to worry about the shiver that passed up her arm as their fingers touched. “Where did this come from, Mr. Nedhelm?”
“Herbert, please.”
She looked up briefly. “Call me Bess.”
Nedhelm stood near his wife and held two wine goblets. He gave one to his wife and retained the other as he seated himself. “I received the coin from a colleague who had it from a farmer in Lancashire, somewhere near Preston on the banks of the Ribble. My friend believes the coin was minted around the year 700 AD in Scandanavia. I disagree, and believe the most likely source is the English Danelaw and the manufacture of a much later date, perhaps 900 AD.”
“It would be difficult to tell from only one piece, and two hundred years is a rather short time difference, relatively speaking,” Bess remarked.
“True, true.”
“But don’t you think these markings on the reverse side might indicate a date.” Marr’s fingers touched hers as he turned the coin.
A lively discussion ensued that continued throughout supper and well after. The gentlemen decided to have their port in the parlor while the ladies took their tea.”
After another hour of convivial conversation, Bess set aside her cup and stood. “I almost hate to leave, Athena, Herbert. However, I have charge of my youngest sister tomorrow and will have to rise early.”
Athena rose as well. “We can always continue our discussion another time.”
“Absolutely,” concurred her husband. “Let me send for your cloak and have notice sent to the mews for your coach to be brought round.”
“Thank you both for sharing our supper,” Athena said. “Bess, I do hope I will have the chance to meet your stepmother and sisters while you are in York. Do you plan a long stay?”
They began making their way to the front door.
Bess shook her head. “Only until the end of the Season. We’ll be returning to our home in Starbrook near Harrogate in mid-May.”
“So soon. Then we must plan an event for your family. Perhaps a picnic.”
“Oh, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself. My stepmother, Patience, Lady Seahaven, is deeply involved in the York social scene. In fact, we are holding a ball at Smithson’s Assembly Rooms on April twenty second to celebrate the come out of three of my younger sisters. I’ll ask Patience to send you an invitation. Do say you’ll come?”
“I’ll have to consult Herbert, of course. But if we are free that evening, I would love to attend.” Athena smiled.
“I’ll ask Malcolm to use whatever influence he has with Herbert.” The words and his name were out of Bess’ mouth before she thought. “I . . . uh . . . I mean Mr. Marr.”
Athena gave her a speculative look. “We are all on a first name basis here at Nedhelm house.”
Thank heaven she decided not to ask questions. I wouldn’t have known what to say. I can’t even explain it to myself. But I must admit that, despite knowing better, I’ve been thinking of him as Malcolm all evening. How could I?I’m furious with the lying oaf—am I not?
She shook off the disturbing thoughts to bid her hosts a goodnight and assure Athena that a ball invitation would be forthcoming the next day.
