Page 66 of An Affair at Stonecliffe

He thought of asking Noelle to accompany him to his estate to help him with his father’s papers. The thought conjured up visions of days spent with her, nights in her bed. But that excuse was the thinnest of reasons and might arouse suspicions. Besides, it would be beyond foolish to take Noelle to his home. He needed to end the affair, not continue it.

Of course, it didn’t have to be an affair. There was marriage. But surely that would be an even greater folly. Carlisle barely knew Noelle, really. Marriage required more than passion, and that was all they had between them. It was, admittedly, a more intense attraction than he had ever felt for any woman, but he didn’t love her. He wanted her. Yes, she had a quick wit and could hold her own in conversation. She was strong and loyal and fierce. He looked forward to seeing her each day. He hungered after her, dreamed of her at night. But none of those things were love. Were they?

“There must be something terribly fascinating out in the garden.”

“What?” Carlisle turned to see Nathan lounging in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame. “Sorry. Just thinking. I didn’t realize you were there.”

“So I noticed.” Nathan strolled into the room and dropped into one of the chairs, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “What occupies your thoughts so?”

“Nothing.” Carlisle shrugged a shoulder. “Nathan, what do you want in a wife?”

Nathan stared. “I beg your pardon? Are you wife shopping?”

“No. ’Course not. Just an idle thought.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes but said only, “Love might be a consideration.”

“I mean beyond that. Something more substantial. Trust, don’t you think?”

“Well, not the first thing that comes to mind, but, yes, one would want to be able to trust one’s wife. You know the woman I would choose. But, since Annabeth won’t have me... I suppose it would be someone I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with. So far I haven’t found someone that I could put up with for longer than a week.” He paused, then said, “What brings this on?”

“Oh...nothing in particular. This matter of the tontine, I guess, got me thinking about the future. Marriage and heirs and all that.”

“Ah, the duty of producing heirs. Are you considering bloodlines, then? I hear that Benningfield’s daughter is out of mourning now. Her mother’s line goes back to the Conquest, but I wouldn’t think it’s worth it.”

“God, no. I don’t really care about her family.”

“What do you care about?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Carlisle smiled and shook his head. “Enough of this nonsense. I suggest we seek out the ladies. Their conversation’s bound to be more interesting.”

They found Adeline and Noelle in the drawing room with Gilbert, who was playing on the floor between them, tiny tin soldiers spread around him. “You found the toy soldiers,” Nathan said and settled down on the floor beside the boy, picking up a red-jacketed figure. “I always loved these. Remember when I’d bring over my set, Carlisle, and we’d have massive battles?”

“I certainly do,” Adeline said, chuckling. “I remember when Thomas stepped on one of them in his stockinged feet.”

“You’re very kind, Nathan, but you’ll get your clothes dusty,” Noelle protested.

“Ha! Bennett would never allow a speck of dirt to linger on one of his floors. And Gil and I have become fast friends these past few days, haven’t we?”

Gil nodded. “We caught butterflies while you were gone, and we went up into the attic one day.”

“The attic?” Noelle cast a laughing look at Nathan. “My, you are a friend indeed.”

“Yes, and they came down looking like chimney sweeps, both of them.” Adeline smiled fondly. “The boys always loved exploring up there. I cannot imagine why.”

“It’s a world of mystery and wonder,” Carlisle told her, coming over and squatting down to look at the toys.

Gilbert’s head went up and he looked toward the window. “Somebody’s coming.”

He jumped up and ran to the window that faced the courtyard garden. “It’s a man.”

Carlisle joined the boy at the window just as a thunderous knock sounded at the front door. “Good Lord.” He turned around, his face grim. “It’s Sloane.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“WHAT THE DEVIL!” Nathan rose to his feet, his hands knotting at his sides. “Where is Annabeth?”

“Where is Mother is the better question.” Adeline’s eyes grew round. “She’s the one who’s likely to stab him with her knitting needles.”