Marlene walked about the interior, finding everything from orange and lemon trees to pineapple and papaya bushes and tropical orchids, hibiscus, and various others that she couldn’t even recall. She walked around the enclosure and reached out to touch one delicate petal here or an odd leaf there. “I thought at one time I might like to be a botanist.”
“Did you?”
She glanced back at her host, who was following her from a short distance. His gaze was absolutely mesmerizing and made her discomfited, so she turned around and continued her slow appraisal. “Yes. I used to pour over the different woodcuttings in John Parkinson’s book, Paradisus in Sole. Then, of course, there were the variations of vegetation by John Hill and most recently, John Edwards’ fantastic collection. I’ve never seen more than illustrations in black print, but this place makes everything so…real. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever beheld before, even in London.”
“I’m honored that you can appreciate it.”
She sent him a brilliant smile.
His gaze was hypnotic. “I, myself, have always had a weakness for certain beauty.”
Immediately, the smile froze on her face, because she had the decided feeling that he was speaking of something other than the plants around them. She focused her attention on another unknown flower as his voice swirled around her and he moved to her other side. He reached out and touched the petal, his hand in close proximity to hers. “I didn’t realize you had aspirations of being a botanist.” He paused. “Do you have a fascination for herbs as well?”
She swallowed. “They are connected to the same family, so I suppose I do. But I never wished to venture so far into the field of medicine. I just liked to study the plants themselves. How they grow, what temperatures they thrive in.”
“You are welcome in my orangery any time you wish, Miss St. Clair.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she returned softly.
“It has nothing to do with kindness.” He leaned closer, until his breath fanned her ear. “It’s my wish that we can enjoy a mutual satisfaction.”
Alaric knew he was being crass for toying with the lady like this, but he hadn’t imagined she would be so cunning as to find his hidden study. It made him wonder what had caused her to return to the gallery to investigate further, and then decided that perhaps Hector might have actually started to play dirty and found a way to coerce her to spy on him. Alaric was feared by most of the villagers. They thought him distant and withdrawn—the recluse who lived in the vast expanse on the moors. He’d heard countless rumors, but he’d never cared to heed them, because as long as he was left to his own devices, that was all that concerned him. He didn’t wish for anyone else to come into his tightly knit world. It was dangerous here for outsiders.
And yet…
He was starting to find himself drawn to Miss St. Clair, to the point that he was beginning to neglect his work in favor of spending time with her. She intrigued him, and after last night when she had been poking around where she didn’t belong, he was even more beguiled by the secrets she might be hiding from him.
He needed to cease this teasing, but when he saw the pulse beat faster at the base of her graceful neck, and heard the catch in her breathing, he yearned to unnerve her further.
Preferably in his bedchamber.
He reluctantly stepped away to give her some room. If she was that discomfited by him, it would be more difficult to earn her regard and interrogate her without question or concern.
He clasped his hands behind his back and started to lead the way around the rest of the orangery. “Tell me about your family.”
It took her a moment to respond, likely because the subject had been reversed so quickly, but she had no problem speaking on a matter that she likely considered a much safer topic. “My parents died in a carriage accident more than a year ago. I have one a cousin, Sir Arthur Montrose and his wife, Sophia, arrived from America to inherit my father’s estate, and they are the reason I was forced to leave London.”
He faced her at this revelation. A frown creased his brow. “He cast you out?”
“He did.” He caught the bitter edge of her tone. “But he had a family of his own to support, and I had no prospects, so I suppose it was necessary for all involved.”
He could tell that she was trying to make light of the situation. “Your father didn’t leave a trust in your name?” he wondered curiously.
“Not that I was ever told. I met with the solicitor after his death, but I was informed that my dowry had been liquidated long ago to pay for various debts.” She shook her head. “You must understand that my father wasn’t a bad person, but he did like to spend some time at the gaming tables.”
Alaric ground his jaw. “I see. And it was this alteration in your circumstances alone that made you seek gainful employment?”
“Should there be any other reason?” she asked. But then she went on to explain, “If you are wondering if I regret my choice to come to Rosedale Heights, Sir Gothry, I can assure you I don’t. There was nothing left for me in London, and I would much rather be a companion or governess, as opposed to being forced into another trade that would not be nearly as fulfilling, or honorable.”
He inclined his head. “I appreciate your candor, Miss St. Clair. I can tell my aunt is quite taken with you.” He regarded her steadily. “As am I.” He watched as her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks added a pink tinge, before he sobered and said, “Shall we continue with the tour?”
Marlene was feeling better about Sir Gothry when their tour returned to the main house. She decided that he could be charming when needed, and entirely too attractive for her peace of mind. She noticed that he was careful to avoid the entrance to the north wing, and her overactive mind wondered if he was hiding something there, and if that might be why she was forbidden entry. However, she wasn’t about to press the issue. Now that he knew about her precarious situation, she would have to be cautious about her actions. She didn’t want to give him any reason to dismiss her. If that happened, she would be on her own again, and without a proper reference. Luck had been on her side when Sir Gothry had granted her this position, but she doubted she would be so fortunate again.
The only thing she had to do was ignore temptation. She was starting to fear that was to be her only downfall at Rosedale Heights. She was inexplicably drawn to Sir Gothry, and she knew the feeling was reciprocated. He had told her so more than once, and although she had originally thought he was teasing her, she now knew him well enough to understand that wasn’t the case. But he was still a distant enigma, mysterious, a puzzle that she might never solve. Perhaps that was the main reason he fascinated her beyond reason. Not only was he handsome, but he lent an air of danger.
He led her in the direction of the west wing that held the portrait gallery. She wondered if he would open the previously closed doors she’d passed the day before, but he didn’t pause, just kept moving, and she forced herself to remain silent on the matter.
When they reached the wall of ancestors, Marlene shivered. It was as if the dream she’d had the night before was a vivid recollection, a warning to steer clear of this room—maybe even this entire manor.
