Page 97 of To Treasure an Heiress
He was smiling as he puffed his way to the house. She really was amazing. He could just imagine her on expeditions with him. She’d be in the lead, blazing trails. Outpacing the guides.
Just now, though, she stood in the front garden, clasping the hands of a very worried-looking Lady Emily.
“Wha ... what ... is it?” He sucked in a long breath and came to a halt just past the trellis.
His sisters were there, too, and both their maids, and Oliver. Millicent turned to him with a scowl. “It’s that annoying Dutchman again, that’s what.”
Sheridan frowned. “Dutchman?”
“American,” Abbie corrected. “But originally Dutch.”
“His family.” Millicent marched over to him. “Don’t tell me you don’t recall him, I won’t believe it of you. Not given the thorn he was in our side in Europe. Vandermeer, Theo. Donald Vandermeer.”
“Vandermeer!” He hadn’t even thought of him in years, but the mere mention of his name brought a score of scorching memories to mind. He looked to Beth and Lady Emily. “Ishethe American your family is working with?”
Lady Emily released the lip she’d been gnawing on. “So it seems—though I don’t really know anything about him.”
“Do you?” Beth, looking from him to his sisters.
Abbie snorted. It was, of course, a ladylike snort. The kind that screamed high-born disdain. “Far too well.”
Sheridan let Millicent pull him farther into the front garden. “He’s a fellow antiquities hunter. That is—”
“An antiquitiesshark, more like.” Millicent shook her head, tossing the length of tulle attached to her hat over her shoulder.
Why the devil had she chosen such an extravagant hat for a sail to Tresco? It must have been tangled about her the whole way. “Well—”
“He isn’t underhanded or anything, let it be noted.” Abbie moved toward the front door, pulling the rest of them along in her wakeby the sheer force of her will. “He simply employs a vast team of people, which meant that he was quite frequently a step ahead of us when we were exploring a lead.”
Sheridan smirked at Millicent as they joined the others. “Which Millicent took as a personal insult.”
She ignored him. “We haven’t bumped into him in years, though. Not since Theo decided to focus on the Druids. The Dutchman has no interest in them.”
“American,” Abbie corrected again. She turned to the others from her place on the doorstep. “By way of the Dutch West Indies, which is where his family made their fortune in sugar and rum. I believe it was Mr. Vandermeer’s father who decided to move to New York as a young man. His son was born there. And therefore isAmerican, as my sister well knows.”
“Allow me.” Oliver bypassed the rest of them, including Abbie, and opened the door. “After you, my lady.”
She rewarded him with a sweet smile. “Thank you, Mr. Tremayne. Now.” Abbie pivoted again and marched inside, beckoning them to follow with a raised hand.
Sheridan took a bit of pleasure in seeing that Beth and Lady Emily obeyed that flutter of her fingers every bit as quickly as he, Millicent, and their maids did. Always good to know it wasn’t justhisspine that was a tad weak where she was concerned.
He tried to hang back so he could fall in beside Beth, but Millicent didn’t relinquish his arm. Which meant he simply craned his head around instead and nearly tripped on the doorstep. “So,whatis it? About Vandermeer, I mean. He’s in London? With your family, my lady?”
Emily shook her head and cast one of those fretful gazes of hers at Beth. “That’s the thing, my lord. He’s not there anymore—none of them are.”
“They’re on the way here.” Beth delivered the death blow calmly. Coolly. But he could hear the strain in her voice just as clearly as he could see it in her eyes. “They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!” He paused, even though it made Beth bump into him—shame, that—and Millicent tug on his arm. Then he charged forward, shaking free of that sister and surging past the other. For all he knew, she meant to march into the drawing room or something and request some tea to aid them in their planning. But that wouldn’t do at all.
The library. Their maps. That’s what they needed, and they hadn’t a moment to lose. “Hurry, then! No time to waste. Abbie—and Millicent.”
They were right behind him, already pulling out papers and pens. Sheridan unfurled the most detailed map of the Scillies that the Tremaynes had. They’d already pored over it last night, trying to guess at which section of Gugh’s northern coastline might be the correct one. But now he had something more to go on—at least he hoped he did. They had only to draw a line.
“Beth—where were we?”
She didn’t ask him what he was doing. Just slid to his side, glanced at the map for a moment, and rested her fingertip at a spot on the southern end of Tresco. He would have guessed nearly right, but she obviously knew the island far better than he. He held out a hand toward his sisters.
Millicent slapped a ruler into his palm. He set one end of it on the spot Beth indicated, then lined it up with the north-south arrow on the map’s compass rose. He looked to Beth again. “Look reasonable to you? As a location, I mean? You know Gugh better than the rest of us.”
