Page 37 of Lord of Fortune
Chapter 7
Penn suppresseda smile as he glanced at the woman next to him in the coach. Amelia surprised him at nearly every turn. Although, he shouldn’t be any longer. She’d proved herself to be curious, eager, and nearly fearless.
Onlynearlybecause she was clearly afraid of what might happen between them. If they were too close. As they were now while they traveled the streets of London from Mayfair to Bow Street, where they would meet with one Hamish Mackinley.
They’d departed Septon House in separate coaches early the previous morning, without even saying goodbye to Septon or Lady Stratton in person. It was just as well. Penn had grown up with Septon, considered the man a friend, but all this secrecy to do with the Order and their insistence that the Thirteen Treasures stay hidden was almost enough to damage the relationship. Even now, Penn doubted some things Septon had said last night—the fact that Amelia’s grandfather had found the heart and delivered it to a museum without the Order intervening just didn’t sit right.
Last night, they’d stayed at an inn in Andover, arriving late and taking supper before retiring to their rooms and leaving even earlier this morning. Dawn had barely broken when they set out for London. Penn included staunch travel companion among Amelia’s outstanding qualities. “Thank you again for coming out straightaway.” They’d left his brother-in-law’s town house almost as soon as they’d arrived.
“I’m just as eager as you are to learn what we can from Mr. Mackinley.” She peered at him askance. “You should know that about me by now.”
Yes, they were getting to know each other fairly well. “You are correct. I won’t ever underestimate you again.”
“I did want to talk to you about something.” There was a weight to her tone that gave him pause.
He hoped it wasn’t the issue of their attraction or whatever she wanted to call it. Or not call it. She couldn’t deny it, but then that was likely why she’d felt compelled to set rules for their relationship. He’d never liked rules.
She brushed her hand along her skirt, drawing his attention briefly to the barely perceptible curve of her thigh beneath the layers of fabric. “How much do you trust Lord Septon?”
Had she been reading his thoughts? “I’ve known him most of my life,” he said carefully. “He and my father are friends. Even so, I know there have been times my father might have cheerfully choked him.”
“Such as the time the Order put him and your mother in danger?”
“Yes, that was one such time. They’d found an antiquity that ultimately led them to the only contemporaneous writings about King Arthur and his knights—a poem written by a sixth-century monk.”
“That was the document you mentioned in Burrington? I didn’t know such a thing existed.” She paused briefly before cocking her head to the side. “Why is that?”
“Because the Order insisted the poem remain secret.”
“But they didn’t find it—your parents did. Or am I misunderstanding?”
“You have the right of it. Septon was able to convince my father that publicizing such a thing would cause problems.”
“Butyouaren’t convinced.”
He shook his head. “I think knowledge belongs to everyone. When my sister found the flaming sword—called Dyrnwyn—I wanted to put it in the Ashmolean, but Septon, as a member of the Order, of course disagreed. He was insistent that people would fight over it.”
“Isn’t that what’s happening in the Order? This Camelot faction has formed and now there are problems.”
Penn couldn’t dispute what she said. “So you agree with Septon?”
“I didn’t say that. But perhaps his fears and those of the Order are well-founded. Who do these treasures really belong to? I admit I am distressed to think my grandfather stole the heart.”
“I don’t see it as theft. He was trying to share the heart with the people of England when he gave it to the Ashmolean. I think of him as liberating an important historical artifact.”
“Liberating?” She was quiet a moment and glanced out the window. “Are we nearly there? I’ve only been to London once, and I scarcely remember it.”
“Just once?” Penn had visited on many occasions, particularly to spend time in the British Museum. “What a shame. I wish we had more time. I’d take you to see the Rosetta Stone and the Elgin Marbles.”
She turned toward him, her sharp inhalation spiking his awareness of her. “That would be wonderful.”
“Next time,” he promised.
“There likely won’t be a next time, Mr. Bowen. But perhaps we won’t be able to learn anything to help our cause and our journey will end here. I shall take the opportunity to visit the museum before I return home.”
The coach slowed. “Try to be more optimistic, Mrs. Forrest,” he said softly. “About everything. I intend there to be a next time.” He gave her a pointed stare as the vehicle came to a stop. He reached for the door. “We’re here.”
As he quickly climbed down, he wondered what the hell had gotten into him. He never planned for future encounters with women, and yet he hadn’t been able to stop himself with her. Perhaps she was right, that they ought to focus on keeping things professional. He turned and held up his hand to help her out.
