AWAKENING THE SHY MISS Read Online Free PDF Page B

some time. I could use a local historian’s help on my project. I was surprised Andrew didn’t include him in the initial circle of investors for the site. By the way, is he joining us today?’ Was anyone joining them? He could hardly believe someone wasn’t chaperoning and yet it appeared the Milhams’ casual approach to living extended to their daughter, who was apparently allowed to meet men unattended. He thought it seemed somehow disrespectful of them to leave her alone no matter how honourable his intentions were.
    ‘Are you worried for your reputation?’ There was a shade of worry in her eyes that was entirely sincere. Other women would have delivered the line with a flirty laugh. He knew plenty of those women. But Evie Milham was not one of them. She was genuinely sympathetic. ‘Shall I call someone?’ She was flustered again and it was his fault. In an attempt to honour her, he’d managed to insult her.
    Dimitri chuckled, trying to put her at ease. He’d not meant to upset her any more than he’d meant to insult her. ‘Are you worried for yours ?’
    ‘You’re here to view a tapestry, not ravish me.’ Evie scoffed. He heard the hint of sorrow, or was that resignation, again?
    ‘Are you sure about that?’ he teased, although he wasn’t sure it was entirely a joke on his part. Evie Milham was ravish-worthy, with her glorious hair and that carefully guarded smile, especially when she wasn’t doubting herself, when she was letting her real self out to play as she had when they’d discussed the history books.
    She smiled, but there was a shadow in her eyes now. ‘I’ve had years to be quite sure of that, Your Highness.’ He understood. She thought he was embarrassed to be alone with her, maybe even ashamed to be seen with her. The realisation gave him pause. Where had she ever acquired such a belief about herself? Was this where the wariness came from? He would have to work harder to put her at ease, to convince her she had nothing to fear from him.
    ‘Call me Dimitri. Please,’ he urged, refusing to remark on that shadow for fear she would see any encouragement he offered as pity. ‘We’re a thousand miles from Kuban. I hardly feel like a prince this far from home.’ He liked it that way. The further from Kuban he got, the easier it was to forget he was a prince, the easier it was to live simply, to be a man only, not a title he’d acquired by an accident of birth. If only others felt that way too. Unfortunately, they were all too keen to remind him of the chasm that separated him from other men.
    Evie took the invitation as he’d hoped. ‘All right, then, Dimitri , the tapestry is this way.’ She led them through a warren of hallways to a gallery that ran the length of the back of the house. The tapestry was easy to spot. It was of considerable size and hung in the centre of the left wall in a large glass frame. Even with the glass protecting it, Dimitri could tell it was of fine and authentic quality. He stepped towards it, unable to resist doing anything else, drawn to the vibrant hues of blue, red and orange. ‘This is remarkably well preserved...’ he breathed in real appreciation, letting his eyes roam the story of the tapestry. ‘Arthur’s wedding to Guinevere, if I’m not mistaken.’
    ‘Yes, my father has spent considerable amounts of time researching it. He’s in the final stages of writing a book about the tapestry,’ Evie offered. He stared at it a while longer, asking questions, before turning his attention to other artefacts in the room. The gallery was a repository of history. There were other, smaller, tapestries hanging from the walls, unprotected. He wandered over to one depicting a unicorn set against a blue-flowered field.
    ‘This one is quite fine as well. Is it of some import?’ He wondered why it wasn’t under glass too. It seemed familiar, as if he’d seen it somewhere before.
    Evie shook her head. ‘No. It’s one of mine. It’s merely a copy of a