Page 56 of Romancing the Artist

“Lady Inglewood suggested we start our day with a search of the castle attics. I’m hoping we’ll find something suitable for your costume as Atlas.” She paused, her gaze meeting his. Did he realize he still held her hand? There wasn’t even anyone about to notice. The footman had left completely. “If the idea doesn’t appeal to you, we could forgo the campaign entirely. I’m certain I can find what is needed another time.”

The hint of a smile played at his lips, and finally a gleam of good humor returned to his eyes. “A treasure hunt in the castle attics with you? It sounds like an adventure I wouldn’t miss for the world. Let’s go and discover what hidden gems and ancient relics we can find up there.”

Why did her cheeks grow warm beneath his smile? She had to get hold of herself. And begin by taking back possession of her hand. “I will be happy if we can find a toga or sandals.” She stepped back, sliding her hand from his in the same motion, and turned to the stairs. “Come along, Edward. Our expedition begins with a climb.”

“There are an alarming number of staircases in this castle.”

“I am well aware.” Caroline led the way up the first, relieved he sounded normal enough now. “I travel up and down several of them daily. Sometimes two and three times a day.”

“The Refuge is but three floors. I find myself grateful for the more modest construction.”

Caroline smiled to herself. “My home is a cottage. One flight of stairs. Two floors. No attics.”

He spoke with feigned horror. “No attics? Wherever does your family store all their unwanted furnishings? All of the useless thing their ancestors passed down to them?”

She laughed and took him down the corridor to another set of smaller stairs. “Is that what attics are for?”

“That is their exclusive use. Attics are where you put objects you feel obligated to keep even though you have no possible use or any affection for them.”

Caroline glanced over her shoulder at him. “I suppose that is why orphans in novels are always made to live in them?”

“Precisely why.” He grinned up at her, and relief made it easy for her to grin back. There, Edward was quite himself again. Which meant he wasn’t likely to try to hold her hand. Except the moment she faced forward, he asked, “Have we no chaperone today?”

She missed the next step and tottered precariously, but Edward’s hand was on her arm, catching her before she could humiliate herself with a fall.

“Careful,” he warned, helping her stand upright again. “These stairs are more treacherous than I thought.” He was only one step below, so turning toward him made her but an inch or two taller than him. She swallowed.

“Thank you.”

His eyebrows raised. “You are most welcome.”

Why did her laugh come out with a tremble? “Onward, then.”

They had nearly climbed the last narrow flight of stairs when Caroline finally remembered to answer his question. “Lady Inglewood said she would try to join us soon, but she is visiting the nursery. Often, she forgets herself when she is with her children and hours pass before I see her again. Perhaps she trusts us both to behave ourselves while she is occupied.”

“Very likely her reasoning.” Edward’s voice fell lower as he spoke, perhaps musing aloud to himself. “Our families have known each other for years.”

Of course they had. And of course the countess trusted Edward and Caroline both. Why wouldn’t she?

Inglewood Castle didn’t match one’s idea of a traditional castle, but Caroline had heard tales of far stranger homes in England. Inglewood looked rather like two smallish castles put together. One in gray and built with turrets meant to resemble the Tower of London, the other in brown brick but otherwise a mimic of the first, and the two were connected by something that resembled a grand house. The first castle had a Tudor-like quality to it, though it had been built over a hundred years after that dynasty came to an end.

“I have never been in this part of the old keep,” Edward murmured from behind, pausing to look through a thin window meant to mimic an arrow slit. “Can you imagine purposefully putting these things here? I doubt this castle was ever under siege. These were a decorative decision.”

Caroline kept climbing upward, having to hold her skirts up a little higher to avoid stepping upon them. “Can you imagine archers firing their arrows down on enemies from that angle?”

Caroline had toured the castle as a child and again after she arrived this summer. She knew all about the strange Inglewood earls and the even more eccentric barons who had added to their family estate whenever they fancied. The whole of it was a sprawling work of many generations, with towers from antiquity at one end and a modern glass-encased studio at the other.

“Caroline?”

She turned on the step to look down at him, noting Edward had stopped several steps below her, one foot on the next step. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“I think it is time to tell people we are courting.”

Her stomach dipped and she pressed her hand to the spot. “Do you?”

His eyes were dark in the shadowed stairwell, the light above them too far, the light behind casting most of his expression in shadow. She sensed more than saw the hesitancy in his expression. “We’ve known each other nearly a month. We’ve spent more than a fortnight meeting for your work.” He ticked each circumstance off with an upheld finger. “And we have been flirting quite obviously after church and any time we meet in public.”

“You are right, of course. It is time.” She smiled at him and turned forward again. Her heart behaved strangely, and she found her chest had tightened. Likely due to climbing of so many staircases.