“All right. We shall keep our quest between the two of us,” she agreed, enjoying the idea of a shared secret. “How shall we begin?”
“Tomorrow morning, first thing. I’ll meet you in the library after breakfast. By then, I will have taken the liberty of drawing a picture—”
“I didn’t know you could sketch,” she interrupted him.
“Nothing like you, but I can probably draw a beetle so it doesn’t look like a cat.”
They laughed.
“This will be great fun,” she said.
He shot her an indecipherable look, making her insides tremble.Was he up to mischief?
“I’m sorry I raised my voice to you the other day,” Grayson confessed all of a sudden. “I don’t think you’re a selfish person at all.”
Eleanor shook her head.How could he still be thinking of such an insignificant incident?
“It was already forgotten and forgiven,” she said, feeling her cheeks warm.
“I was simply worried you would go to Turvey House against everyone’s wishes and fall ill.” After a brief pause, he added, “I couldn’t bear the thought.”
What could she say to that?
“Thank you.” She was more determined than ever to create a beautiful sketch for him. “Speaking of sketching, I’m going to do a little drawing while the light is good.”
“You won’t climb anything, will you?” he asked, and she feared he was going to stick close to her as if she were a toddlekins in leading strings.
“No, I’ll keep my feet on the ground.”
Or no higher than a fence railing,she thought,or maybe the ladder in the stables.
“Very well,” he agreed. “I have a few things to do, as well.”
He paused, and she had the insane notion he wished to kiss her farewell. They stared at each other, and she would have leaned toward him and let him, if they’d been in a secluded spot.
Then the moment filled with stirring anticipation passed, and they went their separate ways for the remainder of the afternoon.
Chapter Eight
Getting Eleanor tocome to the library had been relatively easy. Now, Gray hoped he could pull off the trickery he’d learned from Poe. He’d easily procured a piece of vellum from Lord Angsley’s writing desk, and the night before, he had drawn everything he needed on one side. Yet, to the eye, it appeared blank.
He rubbed his hands together with glee, feeling like an excited child pulling off a particularly good prank. He was no scientist and hadn’t much of a clue what Poe was writing about in the lines fromThe Gold Bug, “Zaire, digested in aqua regia, and diluted with four times its weight of water,” or “the regulus of cobalt, dissolved in spirit of nitre.”
Grayson only knew he needed to create invisible ink, which he did quite well with lemon juice as he had with Cam when they were boys, writing secret messages to each other for fun.
And now, he waited.
Eleanor entered looking lovely. Her own beauty was even more apparent for the lack of adornment or accessories on her plain gown of forest green.
Still, he couldn’t help thinking she would look better in nothing at all.
“I said good day,” came her voice, and he realized she must have spoken already, and like a buffoon, he had missed her greeting. His tongue was probably hanging out, as well.
“Sorry, I was thinking of the day ahead.”
“I’m eager to see your drawing of the gold bug.” She drew close and sat down opposite him.
“I decided to wait for you to help me draw it. And I found this natural history book on the shelf.”
