fifteen
IN A FEW minutes, Edith would be in Perry’s study, and he couldn’t stay still.
Sitting at his desk, he struggled to understand the letter in front of him. Some days, when a headache throbbed, reading and concentrating were difficult. The words were clear, but he didn’t understand them. Or perhaps he was simply too nervous that morning.
He wasn’t going to lie. Learning she’d lied to him had been a strong blow. For all those years, knowing she’d studied hard to achieve her goal had been a source of pride and inspiration. Also, her studies had been her excuse not to visit him in Geneva, and he’d never griped about that. Building a career as a doctor was a difficult task—that was what he’d thought.
But now, all her lies hurt. At the same time, he understood how easy chasing pleasure was; it was seductive, addictive, and never enough. He'd wanted to hug her yesterday during her confession, but he’d been unsure of her reaction.
A knock came, and Mason entered. “My lord, Miss Winkworth is here to see you.”
“Please show her in. Would you see that tea is served?”
Mason bowed. “My lord.”
Edith entered in a cloud of blue fabric. Her hair was dishevelled, and her cheeks were flushed. “Good morning.”
Perry stood up and clasped his hands behind his back. “Good morning. What happened to you? Did you run here?”
“Almost. I didn’t want to be late. My mother held me, asking me questions about my job here, and I didn’t know what to say.” She chuckled. “Telling my mother I posed for a nude painting that’s now in Lord Ravenscroft’s personal parlour and that said lord is offering me a job so I can reimburse him wasn’t the right thing to say at breakfast.”
“What did you tell her?”
She paced around the room, stopping in front of the bookshelves. “I was rather vague. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about you as well and think ill of you. She has a fervid imagination, quite morbid at times. She asked me if you wanted me to do something inappropriate.”
He nearly snorted a laugh as inappropriate but enticing visions flashed across his mind. “That can be arranged if you’re game,” he quipped. Mostly.
Her beautiful forest-green eyes became two narrow slits. “Lord Ravenscroft, you truly arenota gentleman.”
“I beg to differ. A scoundrel would take advantage of you or show the painting to the world. Oh, wait, that’s exactly what that painter, whom you claim is a friend of yours, did to make money and pay off his gambling debts. So I ask you, who isn’t the gentleman?”
She smiled. He could easily become addicted to her smile. “Touché.”
“It’s always a pleasure to converse with you.”
A corner of her mouth quirked up, and a naughty twinkle lit her eyes.
Mason, carrying a tray with the tea, interrupted them.
“Please take a seat,” Perry said when Mason left.
She sat on the chair in front of the desk, but he gestured to the chair next to him.
“This chair,” he said.
“Why?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose dramatically, feigning outrage. “You work for me, Miss Winkworth. You’ll do everything I ask.”
“So inappropriate activities it is, then.” She did as told.
“Careful, Edith. I might take up on your offer.”
That naughty twinkle sparkled again. She perched on the edge of the chair. “What should I do?”
He handed her the letter he’d tried to read. “Read this out aloud.”
She took it. “Does your condition cause you trouble reading?” The question didn’t lack kindness.
