Page 43 of An Enchantress for an Earl

Chapter Sixteen

Violet sat in the library, books scattered across the desk in front of her. Nothing could hold her attention today. It was three days since her failed attempt to be a spy, three days since she had kissed Lord Merryfield, and he had declared his intentions. Three days in which she had thought of little else.

And today, he would call. He had sent a message to say so. From the moment that she had received it, her mind had ceased to function as usual, and had, instead, been consumed by the memory of his lips against hers, by the words he had spoken, by everything about him. She had been sitting here for hours, trying to read, and no matter the subject material or the language, she had singularly failed to get more than two pages into anything.

In the distance, she heard the faint sound of the door knocker, echoing through the building. Was it him? She fidgeted, straightening her skirts, pushing all of the pins in her hair firmly into place, and generally panicking inside. She did not know how to do this ‘courtship’ thing!

Footsteps sounded, coming closer. Her mouth went dry.

A tap came at the door, and Marks stepped in.

“Lord Merryfield to see you, Lady Violet. Shall I show him here? Or in the main parlour? I have Annie here ready to chaperone.”

Behind him, the maid hovered, a smile on her face. Before Violet could answer, however, Lord Merryfield appeared behind Marks.

“Please forgive my invasion of your home, but… I heard the word ‘library’.”

He smiled, and Violet forgot, for a moment, how to breathe. He was so utterly handsome, so wonderful. Then Marks cleared his throat and she realised that everyone was waiting for her response. Heat flushed her cheeks.

“Ah, here will be perfect, thank you Marks. Please arrange for a tea tray, with the lemon cakes, of course. Annie, you can sit over near the other window, and catch the sun while there is still a little of it. This close to Christmas, the days are so very cold.” She rose, and went forward to greet Lord Merryfield. “Lord Merryfield – do come in, and forgive the mess which I have made of the desk. Today, I have not been able to settle to anything.”

He stepped forward as Marks melted away, and Annie discreetly settled in the corner. Their eyes met, and the world slowed down. He reached out, and took her hand, bowing to place a kiss on her bare skin there. She shivered, the memory of his lips on hers resurfacing.

“Neither have I.” His smile was full of self-amusement. “May I see what you have been reading?”

She laughed, somehow immediately at ease.

“Trying to read, is rather more the correct phrasing.”

He went to the desk, and lifted one book after another, his eyebrows lifting a little further each time. Was that horror at the fact that she read so many languages, that she was so utterly a bluestocking? Would this make him less interested in her? The though sent a pang of pain through her heart.

She waited, until he had looked at them all. He turned to her. Her knees felt weak, all of a sudden, and she collapsed onto the couch.

“Please, be seated.”

She patted the seat beside her, wanting him close, wanting to touch him, even as she feared that he would not want to be there. But he came to her, and settled there, just as the tea tray was carried in. Only once she had served him tea, and he had eaten one of the famed lemon cakes, did he speak again. By then, she was certain that she would expire if it took any longer.

“Five languages. Do you read and speak them all fluently?”

“I read them all very well – how well I speak them – that is harder to determine, as for some of them, I have no one else to speak them with. But I believe that I would be passably understood by native speakers of each of them.”

He lifted her hand and kissed it, sending sparks through her in the strangest way.

“You, Lady Violet Gardenbrook, are a remarkable woman. I begin to think that you are quite terrifyingly intelligent, as well as spectacularly adept at hiding that fact. Which is a skill that I am in awe of, for I am so terribly bad at dissembling myself. And this library – this I envy you, intensely.”

“Envy? But surely the library at Westerhazy House is extensive?”

“It is, and the one at Merryfield House is even bigger. But neither match this.”

“Then you must spend some time here, and explore these shelves.”

As soon as she said it, Violet realised how forward it was, and yet she had meant it sincerely. He smiled, and that twist of his lips made her long to lean forward and kiss him. She forced her eyes away.

“I most certainly hope to do so. Will you show me what is here?”

“I… you… you are not… concerned… by my rather… bluestocking tendencies?”

There, she had done it again – no matter how much she tried for decorum, with this man she somehow always simply blurted out the truth, the blunt question. The smile broadened, and he burst into laughter.