Guilty Series by Laura Lee Guhrke Page A

you.”
    Another month here, knowing Anthony’s contempt for her, would be hard to bear, but she had no choice. “Of course.”
    Viola picked up her quill and scrawled something on a sheet of paper. “I shall be leaving here shortly and going to Chiswick. I will anticipate your arrival there in about a month. If you change your mind, write to me at this direction.”
    Daphne took the sheet the other woman held out to her. “I will not change my mind.”
    â€œDo not be so certain of that. This excavation business is very important to Anthony, and he will not like losing you. I know my brother very well. He can be very persuasive when he chooses. And very determined.”
    Daphne did not reply to that. She was leaving, and there was nothing more to say.
    Â 
    Anthony sank the spade into the ground with care, working to remove the earth without damaging any treasures that might lay buried in the ancient room beneath his feet.
    He was probably the only peer in all of Britain who truly enjoyed physical labor such as this, he thought, as he pressed his boot down onto the spade and lifted another shovelful of damp earth. Most of his acquaintances would be shocked to see him now, covered in dirt with his shirt off, his body damp with sweat.
    He dumped the shovelful of dirt into the wood-framed screen box beside him, and as he did so, he caught sight of Miss Wade approaching, weaving her way amid the workmen and the half-uncovered walls of the excavation. He paused and reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head as she came up to him.
    â€œCould I speak with you a moment?” she asked. “It is rather important.”
    â€œIs something amiss with the artifacts?” he asked as he lifted his arm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve.
    â€œNo. This is not about the artifacts. This is a personal matter. Could we speak privately?”
    Her words surprised him. For one thing, Miss Wade seldom said more than two words together. Second, he could not imagine her having any personal matters, particularly not ones she would wish to discuss with him. His curiosity aroused, he walked with her to the antika. “What is it you wish to discuss?” he asked once they were inside.
    â€œI—” she began, then stopped and closed her mouth, looking straight ahead, staring into the cleft of his unbuttoned shirt as if she were looking right through him. The sunlight through the windows glinted off the lenses of her spectacles, preventing him from looking into her eyes, and the rest of her countenance, as usual, revealed no hint of what she was thinking. He waited.
    The silence lengthened. Impatient to return to his work, Anthony cleared his throat, and that got her attention. She took a deep breath, lifted her face, and said the last thing he would have expected.
    â€œI am resigning my post here.”
    â€œWhat?” Anthony knew he could not have heard her correctly. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI am leaving.” She reached into the pocket of her heavy work apron and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “I have here my letter of resignation.”
    He stared at the folded sheet of paper she held out, but he did not take it from her hand. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest, and said the only thing he could think of. “I refuse to accept it.”
    A flicker of consternation crossed her face, a hintof emotion from the machine. He was even more taken aback.
    â€œBut you can’t refuse,” she said, frowning. “You can’t.”
    â€œUnless the king tells me no, I can do anything I want,” he said, hoping he sounded quite smug. “I am a duke, after all.”
    That reply only disconcerted her for a moment. “Is your lofty rank supposed to intimidate me, your grace?” she asked in her quiet voice, a surprising hint of anger in it he had never heard before. She slapped the letter against his chest, and when