She’d suffered enough humiliation to last a lifetime. To court more would be beyond foolish; it would be absurd.
“There’s no need to be sensitive about it, dearest. We’re only thinking of your happiness.” Eustacia looked rather hurt.
“In any case, you won’t need to worry about seeming over-eager. We have everything in hand.” Blanche smoothed out her skirts and gave Cornelia a conciliatory smile. “We sent a runner to the museum this afternoon, with our letter to Mr. Burnell. Making ourselves known as old friends, we’ve requested three tickets to his opening lecture, and we’ve barely mentioned you at all.”
Eustacia picked at a bit of imaginary fluff on the sofa. “Just the merest mention—in case he might remember Dorset a bit more than yourself Cornelia.”
“We barely said anything at all about you being available for courtship,” Blanche added. “Or about how marvellously clever you are.”
“And we’ve absolutely not mentioned that you have a bit of a temper.” Lifting the teapot lid, Eustacia peered inside to see if there might be sufficient for another cup. “Although such a thing isn’t necessarily off-putting. A man like Mr. Burnell might view it as a sign of hidden passions.”
Heaven help me! Rolling her eyes, Cornelia proceeded to the decanter and poured a second brandy.
Chapter 4
British Museum, London
Afternoon, December 13
“No one can doubt that those who lived in Palekmul, thousands of years ago, were more advanced, intellectually and technologically, than we have yet conceived.” The man gripping the podium scanned the rapt audience, his eyes intense as he reached the conclusion of his impassioned lecture.
“The extraordinary layout of Palekmul defies any notion that it expanded in random fashion. Not only are its structures linked in an orderly manner, but the city’s main temples appear to have been placed most purposefully, in direct relation to solar alignments. So much more remains to be uncovered, buried deep within the jungle. On my return, I intend to map a full mile radius of the main temple and I believe the findings will be unprecedented, changing everything we think we know."
Seeing Mr. Burnell set his notes aside, the crowded room erupted in applause and he bowed his head in recognition.
Eustacia was whispering to Blanche. “Dear little Ethan, grown into such a strapping man. Who would have thought! And he speaks with such authority!”
Cornelia had to concede her enjoyment of the lecture. She’d attended several in the past, and the men who gave them were invariably pompous and long-winded. Mr. Burnell delivered his address with conviction, but without conceit.
She’d fully expected him to toss aside her aunts’ letter—surely one among hundreds requesting an ‘audience’ with the great explorer—but the tickets to this, the last of his lectures on the subject of Palekmul, had arrived the previous morning. Though Cornelia had taken pains to keep to the basement since the awful blunder, it had been impossible to deny her aunts the pleasure of attending all together.
In hope of escaping notice, she’d chosen a plain skirt and jacket in dull navy serge and dipped the brim of her hat low. He’d seen her under quite different circumstances, after all, and might not associate her with the woman who’d threatened to shoot him a few nights ago. She had but to keep out of sight behind the other visitors. Her aunts had no real interest in the contents of the gallery and would be easily persuaded to leave after a swift turn about the room.
All would be well, if she only kept her head.
An expensively attired matron to Cornelia’s right sighed audibly and exclaimed to her companion. “So masterful! We must get him to one of your soirées, Mathilda, and soon. A man in his prime, and so very handsome; such a waste for him to return across the ocean without sharing the full extent of his knowledge. One senses he will be satisfying in all respects.”
As the other tittered, Cornelia clenched her jaw. Mr. Burnell was beguilingly attractive, in a wild sort of way, and the fit of his clothing accentuated his well-proportioned physique, but there was no excuse for coarseness. Had they no shame?
With the formalities over, the audience moved to admire the exhibits ranged around the perimeter of the room. The effect was well-conceived, for Mr. Burnell’s painted plaster constructions were compellingly authentic. Various artefacts were on display ‘in situ’. With the afternoon light fast fading and the electric bulbs adding their pale glow, one almost felt one might be entering the sacred halls of a temple of Palekmul.
“Oh, this one’s stained inside.” Blanche peered into a wide-brimmed chalice. “Might it be blood? They were rather bloodthirsty, I’ve heard. All those human sacrifices; dreadfully gruesome!”
Cornelia adjusted her spectacles. “A ceremonial vessel for drinking chocolate, I’d say. Montezuma is said to have indulged in more than fifty cups daily. Health benefits, you know, and a sign of prestige. The temples are filled with carvings and stucco paintings which indicate its ceremonial use—at weddings, for instance, and as an offering to the gods. Cups filled with the drink were placed with the dead, too, providing nourishment for their journey to the afterlife.”
“Are you sure that’s all, dear?” Blanche looked distinctly disappointed. “Might they have made the virgins drink it, perhaps, before they sacrificed them?”
A muffled cough came from behind and a low, husky drawling voice spoke over Cornelia’s shoulder. “The lady is correct. In fact, the beans often formed part of a woman’s dowry. The bride would have to make the chocolate drink with exactly the right amount of froth, to prove her worthiness to marry. This particular vessel was among the first I unearthed from inside one of the temple’s inner chambers. The stain inside is cacao residue.”
Blanche spun about, clasping her hands before her. “Oh, Mr. Burnell. What a pleasure it is to meet you again after all this time. This is all so fascinating. We were hanging on every word, weren’t we Eustacia.”
“Oh yes!” Eustacia placed her hand on Mr. Burnell’s arm. “A wonderful surprise. Cornelia often tells us about her work here but I always find it deadly dull.”
Cornelia fought the urge the scream. Much as she loved her aunts, they were incorrigible. If she didn’t steer them away, they’d start asking the most awkward questions—about Palekmul consummation rituals on the wedding night, or some other highly inappropriate nonsense.
However, Blanche was already extending her hand. “I hope you won’t think us too forward, Mr. Burnell, in writing to you. It was some twenty years ago and we weren’t at all sure you’d remember us, although we have kept in touch with your dear sister.”
“Charmed, Miss Everly.” He touched his lips to her aunt’s glove. “Indeed, I do recall you both. Rosamund and my mother appreciated your kindness and companionship that summer.”
“Oh my!” Blanche wasn’t usually one to giggle but appeared unable to control herself. “It was our pleasure of course, to extend the hand of friendship. Your mother was a timid thing, but she seemed to enjoy the company.”
Mr. Burnell gave no answer to that, instead turning his gaze upon Cornelia.