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her. Instead, they stood, chests almost touching, with the curricle at her back. She tilted her head back to stare into his green eye and was surprised to see a sort of longing there.

“Froggie?” she whispered, not at all teasingly.

“Ye’re verra…”

When he trailed off, she nodded in understanding. “Beautiful, aye.”

“Nay.” He winced. “I mean, aye, of course ye’re beautiful, and ye ken it, but…”

When his voice dropped, and he leaned even closer, Vanessa felt her heart beating double time. His lips were inches from hers, and his scent tickled her nose in the most intriguing way.

“Aye?” she whispered, breathlessly.

When he swallowed, she watched his throat and realized she’d never before looked at a man’s throat the way she looked at his. Never before looked at a man the way she looked at him. Had Roland’s throat been quite so intriguing, buttoned up behind those proper neckties? And why was she comparing Roland to the man who currently held her?

Because Roland was the man ye were supposed to marry, but the more ye ken Froggie, the more ye question what ye want.

Aye.

His hand rose, his fingertips brushing her cheek, as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Ye, Vanessa, are no’ just beautiful. I ken ye think that is where yer worth lies, but ye have much more worth than that. Ye’re strong and capable, and surprisingly kind.”

Her gaze darted back to his eye. “Why is that surprising?”

He shrugged. “A woman as beautiful as ye, also being kind? No’ just kind, but caring and open-hearted, and looking for ways to help others…”

Her lips, which had been parted in anticipation, began to draw into a frown as she settled back on her heels. “I’m trying no’ to be offended by that, Froggie.”

Behind his bushy beard, his grin flashed once. “Good. Because it’s me admitting I was wrong about ye.” His gaze turned speculative as it roamed over her face. “I find, to my surprise, I want to kiss ye more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss a woman before.”

And just like that, Vanessa was straining toward him again. “I’d like…”

She wasn’t certain what she’d like, but knew it involved him.

So when he stepped backward, nodding firmly, she felt a loss she couldn’t even explain.

“I bargained for a kiss once I’ve helped ye on yer mission, so I’d best ensure this task is completed soon!” Before she could do more than blink in confusion, he’d grabbed her hand. “What are we looking for?”

Flustered at his sudden transition from sensual to business, Vanessa shook her head. “Um…a ball.”

“A ball?” he repeated drily.

Clearing her throat, she held her hands up in approximation of how she remembered the sphere. “It is a Roman artifact, some kind of architectural capstone. This one is made of gold.”

His brows—even the one partly covered by the eyepatch—rose. “A golden ball?”

“It is called a sphaera and is apparently quite valuable.”

He snorted. “I’ll bet it is. But who in their right minds would make a ball out of gold? It sounds useless.”

Her chin rose, even as she brushed past him to head toward where she remembered the sphaera being. “It’s no’ useless to me.”

“Well, aye, it’s worth a pretty penny,” he said, turning to stride alongside her, “but it’s just an ornament. A bauble.”

Vanessa missed a step and squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she paused and made herself breathe deeply.

Just an ornament. Worth a pretty penny. A bauble.

She couldn’t help but think his words described her and who she’d been her whole life.

But she didn’t want to be that person anymore.

“There’s a man who lives near me,” she finally said when she opened her eyes, “who’ll pay me ten times the sphaera’s worth just to add it to his collection.”

There was a spark of recognition in his green eye, before he turned away. “Ah,” he said in a rough voice, not looking at her. “And ye have need of that money, I suppose.”

Why did the tone of his voice make her stomach feel heavy?

“My sister does,” she defended herself, then realized why she was doing so and clamped her lips shut.

Instead, she turned and marched to where she guessed the ball had been, although she’d been young, and it had been merely a glance. She’d been kneeling…here.

Determined to focus on something she could change—since it was clear Froggie’s opinion of her was his own business—she dropped to her knees, heedless of the dirt, and peered into the excavated trench. There were still wooden braces and remains of some string here and there, although it had to be close to ten years old by now. She smoothed some of the dirt out of the way, wondering if she could guess what was taken from this spot.

Had her golden sphaera already been excavated?

Had she missed her chance to ensure her sister’s dream would come to fruition?

Suddenly frantic, Vanessa shifted to one side and began to stab at the packed dirt with the stick she’d scooped up. Maybe she’d forgotten the spot! She’d been so young, after all! Perhaps the ball had actually been here, not there, and all she needed was a little effort—

She was breathing heavily when the sun was blocked out momentarily as he sank to his knees beside her. Blindly, she stabbed at the ground, scooping dirt out as she pulled it up, not caring as her fingernails cracked and dirt stained her palms.

“Vanessa.” His voice was low as he curled one hand around hers on the stick. “Please let me help.”

That was all he said. And it was enough.

He wasn’t telling her to stop, he wasn’t telling her what to do. He was offering to help.

Shakily, she nodded, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. It was only then she realized she’d been crying.

“The ball had been there. I was certain, but maybe…perhaps I was wrong?”

“So ye’re going to dig up the rest of the site to look for it?”

There’d been no recrimination in his tone, but she reacted defensively. “Aye, I am.”

“Then I’ll

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