“You have an extremely refined reading palette, Miss Jennings,” Edward replied. “Have you been reading long?”
“I have been reading for as long as I can remember!” she said enthusiastically. “Books have always been my refuge in both times of trouble and happiness. I enjoy the words and the imagination of the writers. It almost feels as if I am a part of a different world, even if for some time.”
“Did you borrow books from the baron’s library?”
Edward noticed confusion on her face as if she was trying to remember who the baron was, making him suspicious. When he had asked her about her eloquent use of vocabulary and manner of speaking, she had told him that since her childhood, she had been lucky enough to study with the daughter of a baron since her father had worked on his land. The reason had felt believable to him, but something about her still felt almost mysterious. She was too well-bred to be just an ordinary working-class girl, or perhaps Edward was reading too much into the whole thing.
“The baron,” she said, realization dawning on her face, “I did, I did, yes!”
“That sounds excellent. I am glad you always had the best kind of books available to read from. You seem extremely fond of them.” He smiled, and Ophelia nodded.
Was he reading too much into it or was she truly hiding something?
How can I find out?
Everything she had told him about her family had made him certain that she did indeed belong to the working class and both her parents always worked for a living. She was now working to support her family as well, but everything about her was ladylike. Her speech, word choice, how she carried herself, and even her idea of modesty. Edward had noticed how severalmaids were never uncomfortable with their skin showing or not wearing enough layers, but he had never once seen Ophelia in such a position. She was proper in her sitting and eating, and for someone so young who had never even worked in the position of a governess before, all of it was slightly unrealistic.
“Young women are hardly allowed a lot of luxuries, My Lord,” she said seriously, “Reading happens to be one of the things that society does not condemn for us; hence, I always made sure to exploit that source to learn as much as I possibly could.”
“You did the right thing.” Edward smiled. “Since you are interested in geography and travelling, have these books been helpful?”
“Nothing can be as helpful as the real experience of travelling, of course,” Ophelia said, leaning against his desk, her hands folded primly in front of her, “but I believe yes! I have only read the first two volumes yet, but they have provided me with detailed descriptions of Europe along with their historical elements, importance of land structures, and their general culture and living. I enjoyed them thoroughly.”
“That sounds fantastic,” Edward replied, realizing the more he got to know her, the more impressive she became. “I wished I had read them to contribute to your findings, but I believe I have travelled through the entirety of Europe, so that does give me some insight.”
“Truly? Throughout Europe?”
“And much beyond it.”
“Africa?” she asked, her eyes shining with unkempt excitement. “The next volume is outlining Africa, and I am terribly excited. I have wanted to visit the wilderness of the African forests for as long as I can remember.”
“Who told you about them?” Edward asked, a little surprised at the extent of her knowledge. It was evident she had a vast expanse of understanding on a lot of things, which was rather strange for someone in her position.
“My father did,” Ophelia replied, her eyes glossing over, “he had visited them in his youth, and he told me that the peace and serenity in those forests was far better than any luxury one can find in England or France. I have wished to visit ever since.”
“Your father is right,” Edward said, nodding, “Africa is as beautiful as a place can get, and I am lucky to have been there. I have been to various places, but I still have not been to India. I would love to go there someday.”
“India,” she sighed, “I have heard it is an exotic land.”
“So have I.” He shrugged. “I will find out once I visit.”
“Do you promise to write a letter and tell me all about it in grand detail?” she said, her eyes shining with humour.
“I promise,” Edward replied, completely serious. He could see she had never visited any of these places and a part of him wanted to make sure that she did visit each of them and he could witness her reactions when she saw the entire world before her.
A part of him kept whispering how she deserved everything good in the world, and Edward wondered how he could give it to her or if even thinking of such a thing was appropriate or not. Although, all he knew was that she was perfection in a person, and no one compared to Ophelia. Something about her simply broke all his barriers and moved past. He could not remember ever having such a conversation with any young lady of the ton, and all of them had been instructed by tutors and sent to finishing schools to make sure they turned into the best versions of themselves.
However, here was Ophelia, who certainly had not been lucky enough to have any such privileges, yet she was smarter than most. Anyone who met her would be enthralled by her mind.
“Thank you for the promise, My Lord,” she said smiling, “I will take the books and be out of your way so you can resume work.”
“I was just off to bed,” Edward said, not having the heart to work tonight.
Ophelia nodded, quickly picking up the third volume of the book they had discussed and a large collection of poetic works by various poets. Silence filled the study as Edward waited for her, but he did not feel awkward in her presence. She was almost like his own self, subtle and calm, and he felt as if the two of them were in perfect harmony right now.
“I have them.” She smiled, curtseying. “Have a good night, My Lord.”
Edward watched her walk out before stepping out, heading straight towards his bedchamber, his mind still consumed by thoughts of Ophelia. He dismissed his valet, wanting to be alone and changed clothes himself, a certain sort of curious ease filling his heart. What was it about Ophelia that made him feel such things and was he right in believing that she might be hiding something?
