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“I have reassured Townsend that he is needed at the British Museum and that the entire board wishes him to remain.” Claridge shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “To say that I have begged him to stay might be closer to the truth.”

Henry fought to contain his grin. It was time that Townsend was given the recognition he deserved. “His knowledge and dedication to British literature are second to none.”

“Indeed, and the board has unanimously agreed to increase his salary.”

“I am very glad to hear it. Am I to assume, therefore, that he has agreed to stay on?”

“Provisionally,” Claridge said. “He will not fully commit until he learns who is to be made museum director.”

“I see.” Henry had had three long nights to consider the question of the directorship since Fernsby had been taken out of the running. He’d not known if the board would consider him for the position again, but he’d wanted to be prepared for the possibility.

Claridge leaned forward in his seat. “The board owes you an apology for not responding to your accusations of Fernsby’s misdeeds in a more appropriate manner. We are all heartily sorry for what you endured, are grateful for your unparalleled commitment to the museum’s success, and are unanimous in our desire to offer you the position of museum director.”

Henry took a moment to absorb Claridge’s words. Hours of pondering had left him uncertain of the path he should take, but less than a minute after Claridge voiced the offer, Henry knew his answer with surety.

“I thank you and the board for your sentiments and am honored by your vote of confidence. It should not come as a surprise, however, to learn that my passion lies with the natural sciences, and if the board is willing to extend my tenure, I would prefer to stay on as curator over that area of the museum.”

Claridge stared at him in stunned disbelief. “Do I understand you correctly? You are turning the directorship down?”

“Yes, my lord. And if my opinion is of any worth to you, I would submit that Lord Southbeck would be an excellent choice for the position. He has exhibited consistent support of the museum through fundraising efforts and his work on the board. His strengths for acting in an administrative capacity would far outweigh mine.” He allowed himself a small smile. “And I believe that if I am held on as curator, I might be able to persuade Townsend to consider doing the same under Southbeck’s leadership.”

“Well, I never.” Claridge appeared completely bemused. “I confess, this is not the outcome I had imagined, but I see the wisdom in your suggestion. And if you were to stay on in your current capacity, the board would be spared the necessity of finding another expert in the field of natural sciences to take your place.”

He may have been unprepared for Henry’s answer, but the chair was warming up to the change of direction quite quickly.

“That is correct,” Henry said. “Although I went to Cambridge with several fellows who enjoy digging up fossils and plants, we are rather a unique breed. I imagine replacing Southbeck on the board might be an easier opening to fill.”

“By Jove, I believe you’re right.” Claridge’s expression cleared. “You have my thanks, Buckland. And I think I may speak for the board when I say that Townsend is not the only curator who will be receiving a raise in salary.”

Henry inclined his head. “That is very good of you, my lord.”

“Nonsense.” Claridge rose to his feet, and Henry followed suit. “The museum, its board, and its guests shall be forever indebted to you, Buckland.”

“I look forward to returning to my work,” Henry said. He’d been too long without his satchel and trowel. “You can expect me at the museum tomorrow morning.”

“Good man,” Claridge said. “I shall tell Rutherford, Townsend, and Woolley to expect you.”

Chapter 30

Emily had barely helped settle Phoebe into a chair beside the drawing room fireplace and across from an extremely pleased Aunt Millward when the sound of men’s voices reached them from the entry hall. She looked to the door. If Lord Claridge was not staying for tea, his visit must have been purely business related.

“Is that Lord Claridge leaving?” Aunt Millward asked.

“I believe so.”

She’d heard the front door open and close, but it seemed there was still more than one male voice in the passage. Perhaps Henry was talking to Wakefield. The voices drew nearer.

“It’s Adam,” Phoebe gasped. “He’s arrived back early.”

One moment later, Adam and Henry walked into the drawing room together.

Henry’s eyes instantly found Emily’s, and his thoughtful expression softened into a smile meant just for her. Her heartbeat quickened, and she smiled in return. How quickly she had come to recognize his moods and gestures. How thankful she was for their intimate, unseen connection—that at a time when the ramifications of Lord Claridge’s and Adam’s arrivals were surely filling his mind and social protocols kept them standing apart, his eyes sought hers.

“Phoebe!” Adam crossed the room in a few rapid strides. Dropping to his knees beside Phoebe’s chair, he reached out and cupped her face in his hand. “What are you doing out of your bedchamber?”

“I have been without pains for over a fortnight, and Dr. Thorndike told me I might come downstairs for a few hours each day as long as I remained seated.” Her smile was radiant. “Today is my first day, but he says that if I can manage it for another fortnight without regressing, I can make the drive home.”

“That is the best possible news.” He brushed her cheek with a soft kiss. “I have missed you desperately, my love.”