Vanessa remembered
passing the library on her first day and located it without difficulty. She
entered the room, finding it empty. It was designed for masculine comfort.
Bookshelves filled with tomes covered all available wall space. A tan leather
chesterfield and two chairs were grouped in front of the fireplace, and a tiger
skin covered the floor in front of the hearth. The Times, The Daily Telegraph and the Penny Press lay on a table, and the aroma of cigars and pipe smoke
lingered in the air.
A variety of magazines was stacked in a rack. Vanessa
sorted through The Gentleman’s Magazine,
Punch, The Strand, and the London
Sunday Journal. She selected Punch
and the Penny Press to take back to
her room.
She roamed the shelves searching for suitable books
and found several on botany, including one by Lord Falconbridge on Lepidoptera.
She piled them onto a mahogany table, along with the books and the notes she’d fetched
from her room. Searching further, she spied Plato’s Symposium and climbed the ladder. It was just out of reach. Not
wishing to climb down, she leaned across. Her fingers touched the binding, and
she leaned farther. She almost had it.
“You read Ancient Greek, Miss Ashley?” Lord
Falconbridge asked behind her.
Vanessa jumped, and her foot slipped off the rung. She
lost her balance and fell into a pair of strong arms.
He set her on her feet.
The imprint of his touch remained as her heart beat
madly. She huffed a wisp of hair from her eyes, sure her face was crimson. “Not
with any degree of expertise, my lord.”
His lordship moved the ladder, climbed up, and took
down the book she’d been trying to reach. He held it out to her. “Are you all
right? I’m sorry I startled you.”
Still thoroughly disconcerted, Vanessa took it. “I’m
fine, thank you.”
He moved to the table and looked through the books
she’d selected. “You are interested in reading Darwin?” He looked surprised as
he put aside Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of the Species. “You aren’t
bothered by the religious ramifications of his evolutionary ideas?”
“I have not as yet read it, my lord.”
“When you do, perhaps we can discuss it further. I
approve of all of these, except for this one.” He held up a favorite of her
mother’s. “Frankenstein: or, The Modern
Prometheus. I trust you’re not planning to turn Blythe into a suffragette?”
Discomfiture flooded her face with heat. “It is for my
own pleasure, my lord.” She wasn’t aware he knew about her mother.
He gestured to the settee. “Please sit down, Miss
Ashley.”
“I thought you might like to see what I have planned.”
She gathered up her notes with shaking hands. “This is a list of subjects I
intend to cover and the books I brought with me.”
Sitting in a chair, he took the notes and read them. Without
comment, he flicked open the books.
She took a deep breath. “My lord, I have to tell you I
had not thought of botany. I’ll need some time to prepare.”
“I gathered as much,” he said, without looking up.
After several minutes, he closed the books. “These seem appropriate.” He gave a
brief smile. “No need to concern yourself. I will teach my daughter botany.”
Then why hadn’t he mentioned it? Did he enjoy making
her feel awkward? She bit her lip before a note of outrage escaped. She’d spent
hours worrying about botany lessons before falling asleep. She was sure it had caused
her disturbed dream. “I would like to learn something of botany, myself. I
became quite interested in the subject in Cornwall.”
“You may attend the lessons if you wish.”
“Thank you.”
“Your choice of reading material is unusual, Miss
Ashley. I too enjoy reading the Classics. Shakespeare also.”
“Shakespeare is a favorite.”
“Which of his works particularly?”
“Henry V.”
His brows rose. “I would have thought some of
Shakespeare’s more romantic plays, As You
Like It or Twelfth Night, would better
suit your taste.”
“History interests me more than comedy.”
“Indeed.” His blue eyes studied her as he rose. “I
think we’ve covered everything. What do you plan for Blythe this afternoon?”
“I understand that Blythe has been under a doctor’s
care. I thought a walk in the fresh air would build up her strength.”
“An excellent notion. But please refrain from entering
the wood.”
“Poachers, my lord?”
“We have had a poacher or two setting traps in the
past, but I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. Some months ago, a young
woman from a nearby village went missing. Her body was found in Falconbridge
Wood. She had killed herself.”
Vanessa drew in a sharp breath. “How tragic.”
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