A NIGHT IN THE LIBRARY
The following night
From his carver at the end of the dining room table, George leaned back and regarded the others with a satisfied grin. Although only two of his four grown children were present, he found it interesting that the addition of Ertugrul to their household for the Season reminded him of when his youngest son was still in residence.
The sultan’s son was obviously well-educated. Inquisitive. Curious. He might have seemed reserved—shy, even—upon his arrival, but he had settled into life at Bostwick House as if he had lived there his entire life.
The daily afternoon activity seemed to befuddled him, though. George supposed any outsider would wonder why aristocrats would insist on riding horses or walking or riding in open carriages every afternoon at five o’clock along a dog-legged road on the south side of Hyde Park.
“To see and be seen,” didn’t seem logical to the young man, but he seemed to enjoy the outings. He had chosen more European style clothing for the rides in the carriage, which seemed to disappoint some of those he had met during the ball two nights before, especially the young ladies on horseback who occasionally rode past their carriage—a few more than once.
“Where might I find more information on the palace in Brighton?” Ertugrul asked. “Architecturally speaking. I learned of it during last night’ssoirée.”
George realized he had missed some of the conversation. “There’s a book about a proposed redesign for it up in the library. About its decorations and such,” he offered. “We can arrange to go down to Brighton at some point later in the Season so you can see it in person if you’d like. It is one of our few examples of Mogul architecture here in England.”
Ertugrul’s eyes rounded. “Truly? I should like that, but reading the book will be most helpful for now.”
David glanced up from his dessert. “Are you working on another project?” he asked. “Another building?” His query made him sound as if he wanted to be included in the planning.
Ertugrul nodded. “Three, actually. My father would like to build smaller palaces for his brothers who oversee some of the outer provinces,” he acknowledged. “I saw a drawing of the palace in Brighton in Lord Torrington’s study last night and thought it might be a good starting point for a design.”
“I know where that book is,” Adeline said. “I can show you after dinner. That is, if you’re not going to play billiards?”
Ertugrul looked first to David and then to George, not sure if they had plans for that evening. He had already seen the schedule for the next two nights—the theatre and the ball for Lady Rose—and he welcomed the thought of spending an evening in the library.
“I can play billiards with Father,” David offered. “I need to discuss something with him anyway.” He had been absent most of the day before, returning to the house only an hour before they departed for Worthington House, smelling of horse and saying only that his long ride in the park was pleasant. He also claimed to have ridden a horse in the parade in Rotten Row while the rest of them had ridden in the carriage, but they hadn’t spotted him among the many riders who had joined the first parade of the Season.
As for this day, he had made his excuses during breakfast and left on the phaeton, claiming he had need of more new clothes and cologne.
Elizabeth looked up from her dessert, immediately catching George’s eye. He merely nodded, understanding he would be expected to share whatever David talked about with her. If he didn’t, she would pester him about it, and he had learned long ago it was best not to keep secrets from his viscountess. “I’m up for one game,” George said. “We’ll take our port up there.”
“Might I take mine to the library?” Ertugrul asked.
“Of course,” George replied.
Although he had passed by the library several times during his short stay at Bostwick House, Ertugrul hadn’t actually gone into the room. Pausing on the threshold, he took a moment to survey the scene. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scents of leather bindings and antique pages, vellum and vanilla.
“It’s not the largest collection of books in a home, of course, but there are some good ones in here,” Adeline remarked when she appeared from behind one of the center bookcases. She held two books in her arms and waved for him to join her closer to the fireplace.
Ertugrul leaned to one side, shocked to discover that besides the two freestanding bookcases, shelves of books lined two entire walls from the floor to the coffered ceiling. The fireplace at the opposite end of the room featured a wood fire, and the golden glow from it along with two gas-lit sconces made that end of the room bright enough for reading. A large Turkish carpet covered the floor, swallowing up most of the sound. He was still tempted to whisper when he spoke, though.
A velvet covered sofa, similar to one he remembered seeing in the study, wasn’t the fussy settee type, but rather a couch with overstuffed cushions and pillows featuring gold tassels. “This looks like what we have in the palace,” he remarked.
“It’s almost too comfortable,” Adeline said as she handed him the book,Designs for the Pavilion of Brightonby Humphry Repton. “Now, this shows changes this particular designer had proposed for the palace, but the man who actually got the job must have used it as a guide. That was John Nash.”
Ertugrul opened the book, and awestruck at seeing the color plates inside, slowly settled into the couch. “You’ve been to this palace?” he asked.
“I have,” Adeline admitted, sitting down next to him. “Although, I didn’t see all of the interiors at the time. It’s free to go into, but you must have a ticket.”
The two sat together, both silent for a time as Adeline read a novel. When Ertugrul turned a page and occasionally glanced her way, he was struck by how different she appeared when she wasn’t in the company of her friends or family.
She was a delicate thing, her features refined and elegant. As was usual, her mahogany hair was piled atop her head, loose tendrils framing her heart-shaped face. Dressed in a cream satin dinner gown, its simple lines and high neckline complemented her natural grace.
For a moment, he was reminded of Sultana Charlotte. Although the two looked nothing alike, they probably shared similar upbringings. Were raised with the same expectations. The same regard for those less fortunate.
Were all young ladies in England expected to spend time in charitable pursuits, though? Charlotte had told him about her time volunteering as a nurse at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, especially when the man who was to become her first husband was recovering from his terrible burns.
Earlier that afternoon, Elizabeth and Adeline had departed Bostwick House to work at her ladyship’s charity. Even though England wasn’t currently engaged in a war that had soldiers or sailors returning with injuries that kept them from working, the charity was still placing men into employment situations or finding wives willing to marry them.
