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“I don’t think my pretty ankles will distract him long enough for you to conduct a thorough search.”
“Why does your plan involve me standing around looking pretty?”
“It’s not that, and you know it. You’re the one who knows Beauchamp so well. Didn’t you study hieroglyphics with him for several months? I hear he’s infatuated with you.” Why wouldn’t he be? She was the most beautiful woman on earth.
“You make it sound improper. Lady Catherine and I merely attended a series of his lectures.”
“I’ve only met the man in passing, so it makes more sense for you to interrogate him while I search.”
“Oh very well,” she said testily. “I’ll keep him talking while you search.”
“And don’t fall for his glib flattery. He may be a brilliant linguist and antiquities expert, but he’s also a notorious libertine.”
“No need to warn me. I know all about notorious libertines.”
Ouch. Her words kept wounding him when he thought himself impervious to feelings of any kind.
“Beauchamp did ask me to become his lover once,” she said. “He told me that he admired my brilliant mind.”
“That’s not all he admired, I’ll wager,” he muttered.
She laughed. “Why my dear duke, are you jealous?”
“Of that conceited dandy? Hardly.” Raven wasn’t prepared for the ferociousness of his reaction. He wanted to shout that Beauchamp wasn’t worthy to kiss the hem of her gown but he wasn’t supposed to betray his emotions. He was a brick wall.
He was a brick wall who had to know whether she’d accepted Beauchamp’s offer. “Did you accept?”
Her lips flattened into a line. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“You’re my fiancée,” he said gruffly.
Stupid thing to say. He was betraying too much.
She rolled her eyes. “Do I have to remind you that this is only a farce to hide our true purpose for being in Paris? You have no rights over me. I could take dozens of lovers if I so chose. You certainly haven’t been chaste.”
True. But the rumors of his conquests had been greatly exaggerated, mostly by him, in order to maintain his roguish cover story. He hadn’t had a mistress in more than a year.
He should tell her that he had no objection to her taking lovers, that he wished only happiness and fulfillment for her, but the words stuck in his throat. The thought of her in another man’s bed made him feel like a bull in a china shop.
He wanted to stamp his hooves and start smashing things.
“Take a lover,” he said through gritted teeth, “just please don’t let it be Beauchamp.”
She tossed her head, and a lock of hair escaped from her simple coiffure. “Why do you object to him so much? Oh.” She nodded her head. “I forgot. He published that scathing article about fortune hunters stealing antiquities for private collections. It was a thinly veiled attack on your unscrupulous methods.”
“The man’s a sanctimonious prig.”
Raven hadn’t cared about the article. What he’d cared about was hearing that Indy was attending Beauchamp’s Paris lectures. Beauchamp and Indy spoke the same languages and shared so many of the same passions.
“Beauchamp invited me to accompany him on his upcoming expedition to Egypt under the patronage of King Charles.”
Another stab of pain, as if she’d jabbed her dagger into his heart. “Will you go with him?” he asked, striving to keep his voice casual and uninterested.
“Traveling with Beauchamp as brilliant as he is, as limitless his resources, I’d be nothing more than his assistant.” She shook the stray lock of hair away from her cheek. “I don’t want to be a footnote in history. I want my very own chapter.”
“And you’ll have it, too. Probably not just a chapter. A whole set of volumes devoted to Lady India, the intrepid explorer.”
She glanced at him with a puzzled expression.
