“Yes, but that novel focuses more heavily on the romantic relationship between the main characters while the mystery hovers in the background.” He pondered that statement for a second. “What I love about Ann Radcliffe is the balance between the two. I never really felt as though I was reading a romance novel. It was more of an adventure story for me.”
“I hope you won’t take offence to this, but I’m surprised by how well-read you are. Books aren’t cheap, and well…you didn’t go to university so—”
“Why would you think that?”
She stared at him, and he knew he’d said too much, but he didn’t want her forming inaccurate opinions about his level of intellect. More importantly, he wanted her to view him as her social equal.
“I…er…I confess your choice of profession led me to believe you hadn’t completed any higher levels of education.” Her embarrassment was clear in the tiny frown puckering the skin between her eyebrows and the way she pressed her lips together.
Leaning in, he inhaled the sweet scent of rosewater clinging to her skin. “People are often more than they appear on the surface, Miss Clemens. Also, one doesn’t have to have attended university in order to be well read, but I do happen to have done so for a couple of years. I studied architecture, as a matter of fact.”
She gaped at him. “But that must have cost your family a fortune!”
“It did.” He leaned back so he could study her face more easily. She was clearly having trouble understanding who he was and where he belonged in the world. “You’ve made a lot of assumptions. For one, you immediately believed I was poor because I choose to work with my hands outside in all manner of weather. But don’t forget, Viscount Aldridge is my friend.”
He was treading dangerously close to the truth right now, and although he was tempted to confess it, he also knew doing so would make her loathe him. Which was something he wasn’t prepared to allow. Not when he enjoyed her company as much as he did. And not when he had no duty toward her beyond the bounds of friendship.
If he kissed her however…
His gaze dropped to her lips, and he drew a shuddering breath. If he surrendered tothattemptation, he’d have to tell her everything. That sort of intimacy demanded the truth. Which was yet another reason to keep some distance between them.
“Are you saying you’re gentry?”
“I’m not saying anything at all, Miss Clemens, besides the fact that there’s more to me than meets the eye. Which is also true about you. Tell me, what are your interests, besides the children you care for and your friendships with Lady Cassandra and Miss Howard?” Crouching down, he grabbed some fir from a nearby pile and proceeded to place it as he’d seen her do.
She joined him momentarily and together they worked for a number of seconds before she said, “I enjoy nature walks for the same reason you mentioned earlier. But I prefer Miss Austen’s works to Mrs. Radcliffe’s, and as far as her works go, I favorPride and Prejudice.”
“I haven’t read that novel,” Caleb said while patting down the fir around the base of one rosebush. “But if it is your favorite, I shall have to give it a try.” He glanced across at her and was briefly distracted by the loose tendrils of hair brushing her cheek. His fingers itched to tuck them behind her ear and savor the brief contact such intimacy would afford. He cleared his throat. “If you have a copy, I’d like to borrow it if I may.”
She darted a look in his direction and suddenly smiled. “Of course, Mr. Crawford, though I must warn you that it is a very romantic read. It will not satisfy your appetite for the ghoulish.”
“Is there at least some amusing dialogue?”
“Certainly there is. Miss Austen wrote with both intelligence and wit. Her stories also have the most wonderful endings, oftentimes with some poor impoverished woman marrying the wealthy man she never thought she could have.”
Caleb could see why such stories would appeal to Miss Clemens. They provided her with the happily-ever-after she herself had been denied. Placing the final piece of fir in the flowerbed, Caleb stood and brushed off his hands before offering Miss Clemens his hand. She accepted it and he pulled her up, ever conscious of her cool palm resting securely against his much warmer one.
“I should be finished with the roof by the end of the week,” he said, still holding her hand. “Once that is done, I’ll replace the rotted planks in the attic.”
“How long do you expect that to take?”
He swallowed and tightened his hold on her hand. “Another couple of weeks, I should think.”
“And then you’ll be gone.” She dipped her head, refusing to meet his gaze, but her voice cracked on the last two words, and his heart broke in response.
Without even thinking, he pulled her into his arms and held her to him. “I have to,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t see each other again.”
“Of course,” she murmured against his chest.
Her warm breath whispered through him, and closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to the top of her head. He was a duke and she was a woman who hated nobility. So what future could they possibly have together when she would refuse any offer he made? And she’d do so in anger, with the pain of knowing he’d deceived her – something he never would have done if he’d known from the start how fond he’d become of her. But it was too late now. He’d led her to believe he was just an ordinary man, and he’d done so for weeks.
What a fool he was. What a bloody fool.
A shiver went through Miss Clemens, and for one blessed second, she drew him closer. But then she relaxed her hold and withdrew from his arms. “I should go,” she said without meeting his gaze.
“Miss Clemens…” He reached for her, but she was already out of his grasp, and then she was gone, back into the house where safety awaited.
“Perhaps you should giveMr. Townsend more of a chance,” Mr. Crawford told her a few days later on their way to Townsend’s farm for dinner. Seated on Apollo, Mary rode while he walked alongside the horse, guiding him by the reins.
