Page 32 of An Affair at Stonecliffe

And something, she wasn’t sure what, but something vital, passed between them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE FIRST TWO weeks at Stonecliffe, Noelle was busy adjusting to life on the grand estate. She learned the layout of the house and the names of all the staff. She and Lady Drewsbury interviewed prospective governesses. The butler gave her lessons on navigating the ton. Noelle spent what seemed to her an inordinate amount of time with Lady Drewsbury and the village seamstress discussing styles and trying on dresses in their various stages of production. The rest of her time she spent with her son.

After the governess came, however, Noelle had less time with Gil. He had lessons in the morning and continued his riding practice with Carlisle every afternoon, venturing out gradually into the surrounding park with Carlisle and the head groom riding on either side of him. Noelle enjoyed visiting with Lady Drewsbury, and reading was always a delight, but before long a life of utter leisure began to pall on her. She was accustomed to working all day, and she began to grow bored. Then she hit on the idea of organizing the library.

Though the room was obviously kept scrupulously clean, all sorts of books, from novels to advice on farming, were scattered across the shelves, and in a library this size, it was challenging to find what you were looking for. Cataloging and arranging the books in some sort of order would not only give her something to do, but would be useful, as well.

Noelle began by making an inventory of the books. Armed with paper and pencil, she climbed up the ladder and started her list. It was there that Carlisle found her one day, standing at the top of the bookcase, scribbling down information.

“Noelle?”

She was so accustomed to the utter silence of the library that she jumped, dropping her pencil. “Blast!” She turned and nodded to him in greeting. “Carlisle.”

“I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He was staring at her in some amazement. “I, uh—what are you doing?”

Noelle started back down the ladder. “This library is absolutely chaotic. I have also never encountered anyone else in here—I presume no one must use it?”

He smiled faintly. “I use it, but I usually come in the evening, and I know where my favorites are. Are you looking for something in particular? Perhaps I can point you in the right direction. Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels are over there.” He reached out to help her down.

“Ah, I see,” Noelle said dryly. “The sort of inconsequential books that I would be capable of reading.”

A flush started along his cheekbones. “No. I didn’t mean that. It’s just—well, I know the countess enjoys them, and I also thought—”

“That being a female, that was what I would want.”

“I beg your pardon.” His voice iced over. “I did not mean to offend. I was attempting to be helpful. And what I was going to say was that I also thought that The Mysteries of Udolpho was quite enjoyable when I read it.”

“Oh.” Noelle wasn’t sure quite how to respond. She had trouble picturing a buttoned-up man like Carlisle enjoying such fanciful novels, much less admitting it. Though, she had to admit, she really didn’t know much about him personally. Softening her tone, she went on, “Then perhaps we have both misjudged the other.”

“It seems to happen rather often.” His mouth quirked up on one side. And was that actually a hint of amusement in his eyes?

“I thank you for your help, but I discovered Mrs. Radcliffe’s books a few days ago, and I have already read them.”

“I see.”

“For now, I am content with reading Petrarch’s Lives.”

“Petrar—” he blurted, his eyes widening, but he was quick to turn his words into clearing his throat. “Of course.”

She let out a little laugh, her eyes dancing. “Really, Mr. Thorne... I think you might need to adjust your expectations a bit.”

“I did not mean—that is to say, women are not usually...their education is...”

“Inferior? Inadequate?” She raised an eyebrow, but then took pity on his floundering. “You are right. Women’s education is too often considered unnecessary and unimportant. Fortunately, my father was a different sort of man. He was a scholar and advanced in his views. He knew that my mind was as capable as those of the young men he taught at Oxford—frankly, more so in most cases. I received a better-than-adequate education from him, and I often helped him with research. Unfortunately, there was only so much I could do in that regard, as I could not enter the library at the school. Perhaps that is why your library took my breath away.” She smiled, gesturing at the stuffed shelves of books around them.

“It has a great many books,” Carlisle agreed, looking relieved to find the conversation now on common ground. “But you are right; they are in a sad jumble.”

“That is why I thought I might catalog them. If you don’t mind, that is.” Noelle suddenly thought that perhaps she had presumed too much.

“Of course I don’t mind,” he replied in an astonished tone. “And it is your library in any case, not mine.”

“I know. I just...it’s difficult for me to feel quite at home here.”

He moved closer, his brows drawing together. “I hope no one was rude to you or unkind.”

“No,” Noelle assured him, both surprised and pleased at his concern. “It is just...different. I’m sure I will become accustomed to the, um, dignity of the house.”