Page 53 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Nora felt a tug in her chest. He’d been stressed about his bill and she wanted to help, even though she knew she shouldn’t be so involved because it could lead to heartbreak or distraction from her work. He was special but that didn’t mean she would lose her heart. No, she was too smart to risk everything.

Chapter Sixteen

Nora returned home from her cooking lesson to find Mrs Hanning in the vestibule. Carrying an armful of freshly pressed linens, the housekeeper must have been on her way from the laundress.

‘His lordship has been waiting for you, my lady.’

Nora was taken aback. ‘He has?’ Normally Ralston would be ensconced in his study working this time of day.

‘He asked to see you in his study.’

Nora untied the strings of her bonnet and made her way down the hall. Knocking softly on the study door, she opened it.

Ralston looked up from behind his desk. ‘Nora! Good, you’re home. Shall we go?’

‘Go where?’ Clearly, he’d been working. Papers littered his desk. He’d taken off his coat and had rolled up his shirtsleeves. His broad shoulders strained against the cotton and her eyes were drawn to his muscular forearms sprinkled with hair.

‘The British Museum,’ he said, drawing her attention back to him. ‘I need a respite from my work, and I’d promised to take you. It will be a pleasant afternoon. You already have your bonnet and reticule in hand. Shall we go?’

She swallowed as emotions warred within her, and a tantalizing sense of something dangerous tugged at her chest. A second passed before she managed to find her voice. ‘Yes.’

If he had offered to take her to the dressmakers, milliners or shoemakers she wouldn’t have been as agreeable. She’d spent the early part of the afternoon on her feet in a hot kitchen. But the museum? She was infused with renewed energy. It was exciting and frightening at the same time. It was good of him to take an interest in her passion for science and plan an outing, but she must keep herself from falling for him. They’d made an agreement, a marriage of convenience that would serve both their interests. His work, as well as hers, would come first. She couldn’t forget it. Wouldn’t. Pining after her husband could only result in heartache. She had to be strong, even if it would be a constant battle.

The carriage was brought around and, fifteen minutes later, they arrived in Bloomsbury. Nora had never had the luxury of visiting the British Museum, and her eyes widened at the grand building. Inspired by classical Greek architecture and fronted by forty-three white columns, wide marble steps led up to its entrance.

Ralston helped her step down from the carriage and then mount the steps into the museum. Once it became known that an earl was visiting, a guide swiftly approached. ‘My name is Mr Dixon,’ he introduced himself, ‘and it will be my pleasure to escort you today.’ Short and portly, the guide possessed a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and wore tortoise-framed spectacles.

Nora and Ralston followed Mr Dixon as he showed them into a massive library. Nora’s mouth gaped as she took in the round room with its impressive domed ceiling. Row after row of mahogany bookshelves stacked with books from floor to ceiling covered each wall of the enormous room. The comforting smell of books and well-oiled leather furniture lingered in the air.

Nora couldn’t fathom the sheer size of the library. ‘There are so many books!’

‘Our reading room has a collection of over forty thousand volumes, maps, charts and atlases,’ Dixon informed them.

Nora shared a look of disbelief with Ralston. From his reaction, she knew that even he was amazed.

‘Come along. There is much to see.’ Mr Dixon ushered them from the room.

Ralston placed a palm on her low back. Warmth followed the path of his hand, heating more than just her back. She was eager for the tour and if she were honest with herself, she was glad her husband was accompanying her. There may have been a time she would have preferred to see this place as an unmarried scientist. No longer. The realization was both unexpected and faintly unsettling, and she pushed it aside, choosing to concentrate on the simple pleasure of being there.

‘The museum exhibits human culture from our beginnings to our present time,’ Dixon continued. ‘This wing includes objects from Captain James and his travels to the South Seas and faraway lands.’ They saw coins, prints, drawings and colourful rare gems. Another wing displayed Greek and Roman sculptures. Even marble sculptures from the Parthenon in Athens.

‘After the defeat of the French at the Battle of the Nile in 1802, King George II added the Rosetta Stone to our collection,’ Dixon said as he motioned to the ancient stone. ‘It is the key to deciphering hieroglyphs.’

It wasn’t just Nora who was interested. Ralston asked questions as they went along. Next came the massive bust of Ramesses II. Nora stared at it in fascination, knowing the ancient piece had a history of its own.

Dixon seemed to notice her interest. ‘He was known as Ramesses the Great and was one of ancient Egypt’s most powerful pharaohs.’

‘It’s all fascinating,’ Nora said, ‘but how did historical pieces of significance from faraway lands end up here? Did the people of those countries gift them?’

Dixon’s chest puffed with pride. ‘We are a proud country of colonization, my lady.’

Nora didn’t hold the same opinion. As a trader, her father had respected the people he’d traded with and never took anything others held sacred or that held cultural significance to those people with whom he traded.

Ralston moved to her side. ‘It’s not always something we should be proud of, Mr Dixon.’

Pleasantly surprised at Ralston’s statement, she was proud to stand by his side.

Dixon paled a shade. ‘Much was also donated,’ he quickly added.