AWAKENING THE SHY MISS by Bronwyn Scott Page A

embedded on the comb’s edge.
    ‘Lovely. Museums are always interested in pieces like this.’ Andrew considered the drawing thoughtfully. ‘Where’s the comb itself?’
    ‘It’s already been taken over to the “museum”.’ Evie gestured towards the canvas collection centre, where Dimitri planned to store the artefacts.
    ‘Hmm.’ Andrew muttered more to himself. ‘Do you think you could make me a copy of the drawing? I’d love to have it for myself, a souvenir of this project.’
    ‘I’ll do it tomorrow.’ Evie beamed, pleased.
    The Prince strode up and Andrew stepped away from the table. ‘Ah, there you are. It’s about time you showed up now that it’s nearly supper,’ the Prince joked, slapping Andrew on the back before turning to more serious business. ‘How did it go today? Were you able to secure the supplies we need?’
    ‘Yes. Your small army of workers will have food, starting tomorrow. Plenty of vegetables, just how you like,’ Andrew assured him. He winked at Evie and explained. ‘While you have all been playing in the dirt here today, I’ve been in negotiations for food supplies.’ He picked up a drawing. ‘Evie has outdone herself on these.’ He handed one to the Prince and Evie found herself anxious. It was rather disconcerting to have someone look over her work right in front of her. She would have preferred Dimitri look at her work privately once she was home. She hardly dared to breathe while she waited for him to pass judgement.
    ‘Excellent,’ the Prince declared with a smile. ‘You’ve earned the right to go home.’ He shot a glance at Andrew. ‘Perhaps you might be so good as to escort her home?’ Her heart began to pound. This was almost too good to be true; Andrew had acknowledged her talent and now he was going to drive her home. So why was she spending more time staring at Dimitri, who was hot, dirty and tired from a day’s hard work, when there was immaculate, charming Andrew to stare at?
    ‘I would like nothing better.’ Andrew offered her his arm, drawing her attention through the effort. ‘I am parked just over here, Evie.’
    ‘Miss Milham,’ the Prince called after them, ‘we’ll see you in the morning?’ He had the manners to make it a question, not a command.
    ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Evie called back, cheerfully. Today had been one of the best days she’d had in a long while and that wasn’t even counting the carriage ride to come.

Chapter Six
    W hich was just as well, Evie reflected, the curricle jolting to a halt outside her house in the summer twilight. The drive wasn’t nearly as exciting as it should have been. It was, in fact, something of a disappointment. Perhaps it was simply that the rest of the day had been far more exciting than it should have been and all else paled by comparison. After all, it wasn’t every day a girl got to catalogue and draw items that were a thousand years old. A few centuries old, that was one thing. She’d done that plenty of times for her father, even for herself when she drew her tapestry patterns. But a thousand? That was incredible and she had the ink stains to prove it. She clenched her hands into fists, hoping Andrew wouldn’t notice, not when he looked like perfection itself handling the reins on the seat beside her, his hair burning gold in the sinking sunlight, his clothes the height of summer fashion, straight from London. He, like most gentlemen of her acquaintance, would find it odd for a girl to get excited about artefacts and ink.
    Andrew set the brake and she let herself engage in a moment of fantasy. Would this be what life would be like with Andrew? What if they were pulling up to their house after a day spent engaged in the pursuit of history? Would they go inside and sip cool lemonade before dinner? Would they talk through the finds of the day on a back veranda, a candlelit dinner laid before them? Would they watch the sun sink together before he took her hand and led her