Маделин Мартин – How To Tempt A Duke (страница 11)
Charles was home late that evening from Lottie’s. They’d worked with Lady Eleanor for longer than before. All to no avail. He was weary of introductions. Indeed, Eleanor’s disappointment in herself had been evident in the flush of her cheeks, despite her otherwise cool demeanor. And, though she was Westix’s daughter, he had not been able to help the swell of sympathy.
She had persisted, patiently facing each new introduction with a determined set to her brow. He’d wished he could give her the passion she so lacked, could encourage the flame of life in those green eyes.
Charles’s butler, Grimms, took his coat, hat and gloves as he entered Somersville House. “Good evening, Your Grace.” Grimms offered a formal bow. “I believe you’ll be pleased to learn that your father’s effects have arrived this evening. All have been placed within the library.”
Charles’s exhaustion fell away, to be immediately replaced by excitement. He hadn’t anticipated the arrival of his father’s items from the country estate for at least a few more days.
“Thank you, Grimms.”
The butler inclined his head, showing the glossy skin atop his head where his snow-white hair no longer grew, and strode off.
Charles immediately made his way to the library, and found a mountain of wooden crates beside one of the curio cabinets laden with his father’s treasures. At least twenty boxes, by his estimation. Going through the lot of them would take a considerable amount of time.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.” Thomas entered the room and held up a metal hook with a grin. “I heard you were back and thought you might require some assistance.”
“Your timing is impeccable as always, Thomas.”
Charles stepped back from the pile to give his valet better access. Thomas pulled down the top box with a grunt and shoved the point of the hook into the narrow gap under the lid. He pushed, and the top lifted off with a splintering crack.
Inside were stacks of papers and journals. Enough to take the night to get through—if Charles was lucky.
Thomas regarded the contents within the box and lifted his brows. “Fancy a brandy?”
Charles ran a hand through his hair. “I think that might help.”
His valet quit the room, leaving Charles alone with piles of correspondence and notations written in the Duke’s neat, narrow writing.
The first few layers were accounts for the country estate—a detailed overview of funds spent and rents collected. Those were followed by letters from museums and from scholars, thanking the Duke for his contributions to their institutions.
Charles stopped and took the time to read those, awash in his father’s greatness. Interesting how even when he had been alive Charles had always felt on the outside, looking in with awe.
Eventually he carefully set the correspondence in a stack to one side. Next he lifted a large journal from the box. The gilded compass on the front indicated that it had been part of the Adventure Club. Unfortunately, the pages were too large to fit the key.
Charles opened the cover, regardless. The spine creaked and crackled in protest at its disuse. Clearly the journal was older than the others he’d gone through previously. Indeed, the first page placed the previous Duke thirty years ago, somewhere off the Nile in Egypt. A careful perusal revealed only his father’s handwriting.
Charles strode to the desk, hesitated, and then reverently sat upon the chair his father had occupied for so many decades. The leather was cold beneath him, and stiff to the point of providing little comfort. He would have Thomas find him a more accommodating one the following day.
For the time being Charles settled back rigidly and perused the aged book. He’d read all the Adventure Club’s journals in his possession, and traveled their adventures vicariously. This was the oldest he’d seen, and the first written only by his father.
Thomas came in and placed the brandy before Charles. “Shall I open another box?”
Charles shook his head. “This will do for now. Thank you, Thomas.”
The valet nodded and left Charles alone with the journal.
The brandy remained untouched while he delved into the words written by his father.
Charles paused in momentary confusion. Surely his father didn’t mean he’d bribed people and forged documentation? There had been many instances when Charles had heard descriptions of finding tombs and temples long-ago abandoned and left to fall in on themselves in the middle of nowhere.
Charles’s father had been a good man, with a name honorably built on the findings of great pieces which he’d shared with England. He’d been a hero—one who would never have stooped to such low levels as deceit and theft.
Not his father.
Charles read through the rest of the journal, which described the findings within the tomb in considerable detail. No further suggestion or implication was made of any untoward acts.
The absence of such eased the twist in Charles’s stomach. Surely his father’s earlier words had been written merely as a precaution, in the event that he’d need to go beyond the rules a little in order to bring an item home. The Duke had been an honorable man whose efforts had always been morally sound.
Charles closed the book and lifted the glass of brandy. He drank half in one great swallow before settling back in the seat. His mind nudged from his father to the distraction of Lady Eleanor.
There was something strange about the way the lesson that evening had gone—how she’d seemed so fully connected one minute and then separated the next. Regardless, she had appeared to be positively affected by his more pleasant demeanor.
He would need to meet with her again and ensure she did not fall prey to discouragement. She had to continue her lessons with Lottie and her association with him.
He was surprised to find he rather looked forward to it.
Eleanor didn’t much care for a walk in the park two afternoons later—any more than she’d cared for the soiree she’d been forced to attend the prior evening. Not when all she could ruminate on was her utter failure.
And Lord Charles.
Blast it. Why had he regarded her with such appeal? And why had she reacted to it so?
She would be meeting with Lottie again that evening. Perhaps Lord Charles, too.
The very idea of it made her insides flutter and her palms grow damp. A sensation that was as pleasant as it was disconcerting.
She thought again of how he’d looked at her...when everything had faded to a dull focus and her world had seemed to right itself. A grin played over her lips.
Eleanor strode along the worn paths of Hyde Park with Amelia walking at her side. While her maid had been all too eager to join Eleanor that fine spring day, she seemed to sense her mistress’s need for solitude and remained in pleasant silence.
“Lady Eleanor.”
A familiar, warm voice interrupted Eleanor’s musings. Her stomach churned with myriad emotions: trepidation, fear, and most of all excitement. They all swooped and tangled together into a nervous whirl.
“Lord Charles.”
She turned in his direction and nodded politely as he bowed. There was just enough time for her to salvage her composure before he straightened.
“I hoped I might find you here,” he said.
He wore a pair of fine buckskin breeches and they gave him a casual, comfortable appearance. It was altogether very attractive, that look...
“You were looking for me?” She lifted a brow in the manner her mother often affected, hoping her face mirrored skepticism and not hope. Hope would be foolish.
Amelia quietly shifted to walk behind Eleanor, allowing her a modicum of privacy with Charles.
“I feared you might be disappointed after the last lesson,” Charles said.
“I wasn’t pleased,” she conceded. “I’m not doing as well as I’d hoped.”
He held out his arm to her. “May I walk with you a moment?”
There was no hesitation on her part, as there had been previously. She slipped her arm through his. “Of course. Thank you.”
As they began to walk together she could not help but notice the solidness of him beneath his sleeve. And he smelled of foreign spices—something pleasant and exotic she could not quite place.
“I’d like to be frank with you once more,” Lord Charles began. “That is, if you are inclined to hear my opinion on the matter?”