Mary stepped into the tiny foyer, and Caleb followed, brushing past her so he could address the man who welcomed them. “Two tickets please,” he said, placing the necessary entry fee on the counter.
“What is this place?” Mary asked. She glanced about in search of a hint.
Caleb accepted the tickets and parted a thick velvet curtain that hung to his left. “A miniature museum with miniature things,” he replied and waved her through the narrow opening.
“How intriguing.” Mary entered the next room and immediately went to study the first thing she found on display. Leaning forward, she stared through a magnifying glass while Caleb waited for her reaction. She took a sharp breath and Caleb smiled. “There is a painting of Leonardo da Vinci’sLast Supperon a grain of rice, Caleb. Have you seen it? It is absolutely incredible!” She returned her attention to the rice, shifting her gaze to study the grain both with and without the magnifying glass. “I don’t know how the artist did it. I really don’t.”
Moving toward her, Caleb stepped so close his hip touched hers. When she didn’t shy away, he glanced around to ensure that they were completely alone, and then placed his palm lightly against her waist and leaned forward over her.
“I imagine he must have clamped it in place somehow and used very fine brushes, no more than a hair or two thick.” Leaning down further, he allowed his chest to connect with her back while his hand stroked gently against her waist.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Just trying to see.” His voice stirred the hairs at the nape of her neck, and for some bizarre reason he was tempted to lick her, right there on the sliver of skin between the collar of her pelisse and hairline.
Instead, he pulled back and tried to slow the thunderous beat of his heart. “Look here,” he said. “There is a portrait of Henry the Eighth on a pinhead.”
“Really?” She pushed him aside without any apology, and Caleb allowed it, both pleased and amused by her delight over the exhibit.
“Shall we move on?” he asked moments later when she’d thoroughly perused three more items, and he’d started wondering if studying the rounded shape of her bottom each time she leaned forward might put him in physical danger. “There is an upstairs section as well.”
She flew past him and hurried up the steps while he laughed at her exuberance. “It says this one is from China,” she called, directing him toward her. As he approached, he recognized one of his favorite pieces.
“Impressive, isn’t it.” There was a whole village on a mountaintop carved from a piece of bone smaller than a penny.
“It ought to be impossible,” she said. Straightening herself, she glanced around the small upstairs area. It was pristinely kept, with polished wood floors and crisp white walls. “All of this…” She struggled to find the right words and eventually shook her head in surrender.
“It is a testament to man’s ability to accomplish whatever he sets his mind to,” Caleb said. “I have loved coming here since my nurse first brought me and my brothers years ago. I cannot have been more than six years old at the time and just as enthralled as you by the wonder of it all. Later, when I grew older, it gave me the courage to choose my own path – the path my father refused to allow – because I realized that if an artist could paintThe Last Supperon a grain of rice, then I could bloody well go and build houses if that was what I wanted.” Reaching up, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “Anything is possible if you are determined enough, Mary. I have complete faith in that.”
“I don’t want a cottage in Yorkshire,” she said, “and I am not sure if staying at Clearview would be right either.”
“What do you want then?” God help him, he’d find a way to give her whatever she asked for.
She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “Do you have an estate to spare?”
Intrigued, he slowly nodded. “I have three, as it happens.”
“Would you consider…” She crossed her arms and started pacing while giving him the occasional glance. Caleb watched, increasingly curious to know her idea. She suddenly drew to a halt and faced him boldly. “What would you say to creating a larger sanctuary for children in need?”
“You mean an actual orphanage?”
“In a way. I suppose so. Yes.” She tipped up her chin and waited for him to respond.
Caleb took a moment to do so. “I wouldn’t be opposed. In fact, I think it is a fine way of putting the dusty old edifices to some good use.”
The smile she gave him was radiant. It threatened to knock him right off his feet. “That is good to know,” she said with an added nod to convey her approval.
“Does that mean you might want to marry me?”
She gave him the sultriest look he’d ever seen. “Maybe,” was her answer. Relief coupled with endless yearning fizzed in his veins. “If you ask me, that is.”
“I plan to,” he assured her though he’d leave her guessing as to when. They descended the stairs and exited the museum. “Are you ready for luncheon?” He ushered her forward and opened the door to the carriage. “The Grotto was one of my favorite restaurants before I left England. Have you ever been?”
“No. I cannot say I have.”
He leaned in and touched his lips to her cheek to banish the cold. “You are in for a treat then, Mary, for there is no other place quite like it.”
16
