The library was on the opposite side of the house from the dining room. Its windows looked out over a lawn, at the end of which large bushes and trees rose in a seemingly impenetrable undergrowth into which a white gravel path was swallowed up. He could not keep his eyes from that window. Lorchester possessed extensive grounds including woods, heath and park. Since inheriting it, he had spent a good part of every day exploring the green landscape, and had even slept in its woods.
His London home, on the far western edge of the city, looked out over fields that stretched to the horizon. They stank of manure and silage at various times of the year but it was a smell so different to the odors of a city that he welcomed the acidic stench, breathing it in great lungfuls.
Gardens fascinated him because he had never had one. Nor been able to come closer than several miles to any wild expanse of greenery. Now, as he waited for the luncheon to end and hisappointment with Lady Violet to begin, he felt the urge to be out of the house and among the greenery of the garden.
I will not be missed. Even Lady Lillian has allowed herself to be drawn into a conversation elsewhere. I could just slip out and none would notice. Perhaps Lady Violet and I could have our conversation out there.
Slipping from the room had proved simple. None seemed to notice as he rose and simply walked out. A servant was passing the door and he grabbed the man’s arm.
“Which way tae the garden, pal?” he said brusquely.
A look of pure terror fled across the man’s face and he pointed.
“Follow the hallway and go into the library. There are doors leading out into the garden…pal,” he replied, clearly unsure what the term meant or if he should be using it.
“Thanks,” Alexander said.
He hurried through the house and into the library. The sight of so many books brought him to a brief halt. Master Knox had taught him to read and a private tutor had completed his education upon his inheriting the Dukedom. The man had been paid a King’s ransom to keep silent that a Duke of England had not been able to fully read and write. Libraries drew him with the same fascination as gardens or the outdoors. They were places he had been unable to go to as a child, dirty, ragged, and barefootas he was. As an adult with the freedom to go where he chose, these places drew him like a magnet.
First things first. A breath of air and the chance to hide myself until those people have gone hame. If I stay in the library there’s always a chance of the Viscount coming along.
A pair of French doors opened onto a small, paved area, separated from the lawn beyond by a stone wall. Alexander stepped out onto the paving, keeping to its outer edges where he would be out of sight of the gathered company in the drawing room. Then he followed the path along the boundaries of the lawn and into the trees. Relief flooded him as he felt himself enveloped in cool, moist, green air. The trees overhead joined to form a sylvan tunnel. Birds sang invisibly among the branches, another wonder he had discovered. In Glasgow, there were many man-made noises that drowned out such sounds. London too.
The path wove back and forth and he realized it had been artfully crafted to give an impression of space. The actual confines of the space were long and narrow but the winding path made it seem much larger. He eventually came to a wooden structure, tucked away under an arbor of climbing branches. Inside was a cushioned bench and a table, upon which was a book. From the title, it seemed to be a somewhat sensational and lurid work of romantic fiction. He idly flipped through the pages, concentrating as he still had to do when print was small.
A tale of knights from the middle-ages is what it appears to be. I wonder who could be reading this. Not the Viscount I would wager.
“Your Grace. I did not expect to find you here,” came Violet’s voice.
Alexander looked up. Violet was approaching along the path. She carried a cup and saucer of tea in one hand. Alexander stepped out of the wooden hut, the book still in his hand. Violet’s eyes darted to the book, which reminded him that he still held it. He looked down at it.
“I found the book inside. I was wondering who would be reading such material,” he said.
Violet’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. Then she hurried past him to put down her cup and saucer on the table. She took the book from him, placing it on the table too, but then picking it up again and holding it to her chest.
So, it is yours then by the way you’re hugging it so possessively.
“I went to find you after everyone had gone but you were nowhere to be found. I thought you had left,” Violet said, sounding flustered.
Alexander looked from the book to her, a smile tugging at his lips. She was beautiful, standing in the dappled shade of the trees, and with a pretty blush across her cheeks, there was noquestion that she was beautiful. He found himself looking from her large, hazel eyes to her full, pouting lips and then had to stop himself.
Was I staring? Is she blushing more because she was aware that I was staring at her?
“I am still not used to green…spaces like this,” he said. “Lorchester is a wilderness to me, trackless and deep. But, even a garden like this…draws me,” he said.
Violet smiled, looking up at the trees. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? I helped the head gardener design it for my…Uncle George.”
Alexander did not miss the slight hitch. He wondered what she had been about to say.
“Then I commend you, lass. I have enjoyed the peace.”
“Lass?” Violet asked, beginning to lower the book, as though relaxing.
Alexander laughed, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry. It is how I grew up talking from the age of about five, I believe. For as long as I can remember. It is very hard to undo all those years to fit in with you English.”
“You do not need to try and fit in with me, Your Grace…”
“Alexander, please,” he said, cutting her off. “I have been a Duke for five years and haven’t got used to the title yet. It makes me uncomfortable. I would deem it a favor if you used my name.”
