Grace's was sitting in the passenger side of the car as it rounded the curve in the long drive and the house rose before them. It was massive, and it reminded her of a Jane Austen novel.
Alec, who was behind the wheel, gave a low whistle. "That's impressive."
Cybil giggled. "We are going to have fun. I hear the Earl is a dish."
Grace frowned. "I don't know about a dish, but he is strikingly handsome."
"And rich," Cybil giggled again.
"Extremely rich from what I understand," Alec confirmed.
Alec was how one expected an archaeologist to look. He was tall and lanky with glasses and a balding head. Cybil was a cute young bundle of energy which, if she was honest, wore out Grace.
The car ride had seemed twice as long since Cybil had talked the whole time; the woman had trouble with silence. Grace had watched her blond curls piled high on her head dance and her blue eyes sparkle in the rear-view mirror the entire trip. Grace felt drained, but Cybil looked as if the journey had just started. Alec had been no help at keeping up with the conversation and had left Grace to carry the other end all by herself.
Silence was what she needed.
Alec started the car forward again and up the long drive, stopping in front of the massive double doors. No sooner had he cut the engine then two people came out to greet them.
There was an older lady with silver grey hair and a heavily starched dress and a tall, balding man in a black suit.
Cybil was the first one out of the car and bounded up the steps to the couple her hand outstretched.
"Dr. Grace Winston?" the lady questioned.
"No, Dr. Cybil Pafford."
The woman and man shook her hand looking mildly shocked.
"I'm Grace Winston," Grace said, unfolding herself from the car, "and this is Dr. Alec Quigley."
Grace didn't think the couple would welcome her handshake, so she just nodded a greeting. It seemed acceptable because they nodded back.
"I am Gertrude Walbert, and this is my husband Richard Walbert, we work for Mr. Stevens. Mr. Stevens is in the middle of a phone call, and he will be with you for lunch, but first, I would like to show you to your rooms. Don't worry about the luggage we will sort it out later." It seemed that Gertrude was a no-nonsense kind of lady and she was determined to have them sorted and settled as soon as possible.
When Grace entered the house, it was everything that she expected it to be. It was monstrous and cold and not at all welcoming. They followed Mrs. Walbert through the massive three-story main hall, where she pointed out the dining room, where lunch would be served, before continuing up the stairs. Mr. Walbert took Alec in the opposite direction once they reached the first landing.
Grace was in awe as she entered her room. It was lovely. There was a large four poster bed and matching armoire, as well as a large fireplace with a seating area that included two plush armchairs. The bedding was in rich golds and reds, and all of the wood was dark. There were carpets in matching tones scattered over the floor, and her private bathroom was solid white.
Thanking Mrs. Walbert, she did her best to ignore Cybil's raves about the room.
After the two women had left, Grace turned to the large bed which looked inviting; it was so tall she almost had to get a running start to get in it, but she managed, and as she fell back into its softness she breathed a sigh of relief at the silence that surrounded her
Mrs. Walbert had said that lunch would be in half an hour, so Grace figured she had a few minutes to relax, but no sooner had she gotten comfortable then Cybil returned from just having seen her room.
"This place is fab. I cannot wait to see the rest of it. Shouldn't you be getting ready for lunch?" Cybil barely took a breath.
"Yes, I should. Give me a minute?" Grace jumped off the bed and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She wanted to bury her face in one of the plush towels and scream, but her manners wouldn't let her.
Instead, she washed her hands and tidied her hair as best she could. Her outfit would have to do for lunch; she was wearing a pair of well worn blue jeans and an old cotton t-shirt, she had pulled her hair back into a long braid and had a well-worn pair of sneakers on her feet.
Cybil was directing a young man as to which pieces of luggage were hers and which were Grace's when she exited the bathroom, and Grace had just enough time to thank the man before Cybil had pulled him towards her room. She had unzipped her luggage and was starting to unpack when Mrs. Walbert entered her room.
"No need to unpack, we will take care of that for you. Mr. Stevens is asking for you downstairs in the dining room."
Grace gave a weak smile. She felt like she was being sent to her execution.
Mrs. Walbert gave a kind smile and nodded towards the door. "Go on; he doesn't bite."
Grace was distressed that she had been that easy to read.
"I am not so sure about that," she said softly, willing her legs to move.
Cybil came into her room again. "They unpack for you and every-" she stopped when she saw Mrs. Walbert. All traces of a smile gone from the older woman's face.
"Mr. Stevens is downstairs Dr. Winston," she reminded Grace.
"What are we waiting for lets go meet this dish," Cybil said, darting out of the room again, not catching Mrs. Walbert's look of disapproval.
"She is very good at her job," Grace felt the need to defend her, perhaps because she was the one leading the team, even though she had very little say in who was to join her. That had been all Clive's doing.
Grace slowly walked down the stairs and followed the voices towards the dining room. In all actuality she just followed a voice, Cybil's voice.
When she entered, it was to see Bryce standing by the sideboard a plate in his hand and Cybil looking up at him adoringly. Bryce must have heard her enter because he turned and looked at her, giving her one of those slow and lazy glances that told her that he noted everything from the tight fit of her jeans to the thinness of the t-shirt.
"Grace," he greeted in his deep English voice. It gave Grace goosebumps.
"Bryce." She noted he was wearing a suit again and was just as devastating as she remembered, she felt decidedly under-dressed. "I see you've met-"
"Dr. Cybil Pafford," Cybil cut off Grace holding out her hand. Bryce smiled then looked at his hands which were full.
"Please excuse me if I do not take your hand, Dr. Pafford."
Just then Alec came striding into the room ending the awkward moment.
"This is Dr. Alec Quigley," Grace introduced.
Alec nodded, and Bryce nodded back.
Grace allowed Cybil and Alec to load their plates first, watching as Bryce took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He was a large man, and, with his jacket off, the breadth of his shoulders was even more noticeable, as were the sinewy muscles in his forearms.
After everyone had taken their seats, Grace loaded her plate and joined them. Cybil had not stopped chattering, but when she finally took a breath, Bryce cut into the very one-sided conversation.
"I hope your trip down was uneventful," he said to Alec.
Alec just grunted between bites of food.
Grace was cursing Clive; she had one colleague that would not shut-up and another that wouldn't talk at all.
"It was very uneventful, thank you, Bryce," Grace assured him with a smile. "You have a beautiful home, and we do appreciate you allowing us to stay here. It's much better than a tent or having to travel to the nearest town."
"My mother would not be pleased with me if I allowed two lovely ladies to sleep in a tent when we have plenty of room under our roof."
"Oh, your mother is still living, does she live here?" Cybil asked without realizing that she sounded rude. Cybil had been declared a genius at a very young age and had finished her undergraduate degree when she was just fifteen. Now, at twenty–two, she was still very young and holding a Doctorate. Unfortunately, she wanted to make up for all of her silent years spent in the library, and she had also missed some of the essential social lessons in life.
Bryce seemed to take it all in stride. "Yes, my mother and father are still living. They're currently living in London, but they enjoy traveling. I'm sure they will come to visit while you're here."
"If your father is still living, wouldn't that make him the Earl and not you?" Alec asked in between bites of his bread.
"Yes, but my father retired early and passed the reins off to me. Technically I'm not an Earl yet, but since he refers to me as the Earl, it seemed natural that everyone else should."
"A real live Earl," Cybil cooed.
Grace bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"I'm afraid it is not as romantic as you would believe Dr. Pafford. There is a lot of hard work that comes along with the title, and that work is above and beyond my familial and career duties."
"Surely being the Earl is your familial duty," Grace interjected. She couldn't help but think that he sounded a bit pompous.
"I assure you, Grace, I am not trying to make myself seem more important than I am. I have a career and a very large family, and both take up a lot of my time."
Grace flushed, it seemed as if he had read her mind.
He wouldn't stop looking at her; it was as if he wanted confirmation that she understood what he was saying.
Grace nodded, and he looked back down at his plate.
How could he do that? How could he demand something of a person without even speaking, and what was worse was that she had felt the need to comply. She suddenly felt sorry for his family. She would bet that he ruled them with an iron fist.
Grace spent the rest of lunch imagining he had a couple of sisters that he had sent away to an all girl's boarding school, and they were only allowed home during holidays.
Cybil carried the conversation for the rest of lunch, and when Bryce finished, he asked to see Grace in his study, leading the way across the hall and into a very masculine and warm room.
The room had a very different feel from the rest of the house. The walls were covered with books, and there were chairs and tables scattered around the room. A large desk was front and center and was covered with papers as if he had been working for hours. It was a room that felt lived in and not at all like a museum.
"The only computer in the house is in here, and you and your team are free to use this room as much as you like," he offered, registering her delight in the room.
"Thank you, but we brought our own."
He took out a piece of paper and wrote down a password. "This is for the WiFi."
Grace's fingers brushed his as she took the paper from him and the funny sensation she had felt was the same as when he had taken her hand at breakfast, and it was not something her imagination had over exaggerated.
"I will be here for dinner this evening, but I'll be leaving in the morning." He typed a text into his phone and then set it on the desk. "Don't worry about being formal; my mother stopped that tradition after my grandparents passed."
Grace was staring hard at the password as if trying to memorize it, and she could feel Bryce's eyes on her. She didn't want to look up and let him see the confusion she felt.
"Do I make you uncomfortable Grace?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes," she said before he had even finished the question.
"Why?"
Grace just shrugged, to tell him why would be revealing too much. He was a smart man, and she knew that he understood why even if she didn't fully understand herself, not that she would admit that she didn't. To show this man weakness would be setting one's self up for trouble. At least if she didn't claim the reason, he couldn't be sure of the reason.
She finally looked up and met his blue-eyed stare.
When he frowned, she felt a moment of triumph. He had at least revealed confusion too or displeasure, she wasn't sure which.
"What were you thinking so hard about at lunch?" he asked, startling her.
She gave a little mischievous grin while she decided if she should tell him.
He waited patiently.
"I thought that you probably had sister or two that you kept locked in an all girl's boarding school, and I was feeling decidedly sorry for them; convinced you only let them come home for the holidays."
He gave a true laugh at her statement. His face took on that dramatic transformation that showed his dimple and crooked smile.
There was a knock at his door, and he called out for the person to enter.
A very young and handsome blond man entered. "Tom this is Dr. Grace Winston. Grace this is my Land Manager, Tom Hill. He'll show you and your colleagues around the property this afternoon. I'm requesting that you go to him in my absence if there are any concerns or questions." Bryce still had a hint of a smile on his lips as he made the introduction.
Tom shook Grace's hand. "Dr. Winston."
"Please, call me Grace," she offered.
"Tom, would you give us a minute?" Bryce requested. "Do you have your phone?"
Grace nodded, pulling it from her pocket as Tom left, closing the door behind him.
He instructed her to type in his number. "If there is anything that you and Tom cannot solve please feel free to call me."
"Thanks." She turned to leave, needing to be away from him and his gut-wrenching smile before she said or did something stupid.
"For the record... I only have one sister, and she has been nowhere near a private boarding school. In fact, she graduated top of her class from NYU, and she hardly ever listens to anything I have to say."
"Brave girl," Grace said as she opened the door. She heard him laugh again and turned to see Mrs. Walbert waiting to enter.
She had no idea that Mrs. Walbert was very impressed that Grace had made Bryce laugh. Generally, the only people who were able to make him laugh were his family and close friends.