Page 32

“Yes,” Charlotte said, and meant it.

She gave his hand a small squeeze, then let go. Then she folded the map carefully along its old creases and placed it upon her desk, where she would see it again tomorrow. Perhaps it was time to plan one of those trips she had always dreamed of taking. She wanted Alexander to go with her, but she wasn’t sure he could or would. It was a conversation for another time.

By the time the lamps were lit, Charlotte had given up on finishing the shelves. Alexander sat upon the carpet beside the lowest bookcase, reading the opening of a novel he claimed to despise. He had begun to demonstrate its faults. Now he appeared unwilling to put it down. She stood beside him, two books tucked under her arm. “You have been reading that page for some time.”

“The author has made a very serious error,” Alexander said, frowning at the page.

“Has she?” Charlotte asked, hiding a smile. He had scarcely looked up since opening the novel. She doubted he disliked it as much as he claimed.

“I am attempting to determine whether she corrects it.” He turned a page and settled more comfortably against the bookcase. He was completely engrossed in the words.

“By reading the next chapter?” she teased.

Alexander glanced up, amusement softening his expression. “It may require more than one.”

Charlotte laughed, pleased by how at ease he looked in her library. She was in no hurry for him to finish. Charlotte smiled and set her books down. The library had grown quiet around them. Outside, the afternoon traffic had diminished, leaving the occasional sound of wheels beyond the windows. The housemaid had brought lamps and withdrawn.

Alexander looked toward the clock. “Good heavens, I had not realized how late it had gotten.”

“Do you have another engagement?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “But I have occupied your entire afternoon.”

“I believe I invited you to occupy it.” She grinned. “I am glad you did.”

He quirked a brow. “Even though I have given you very little assistance for the last quarter of an hour.”

“You have confirmed the wisdom of my purchases. That has some value.”

He closed the novel, keeping one finger between the pages. “May I borrow this?”

“Provided you admit to enjoying it when you return it,” she told him.

“That seems a harsh condition,” he said in a teasing tone.

“I am known for them,” Charlotte said, though her smile faltered. She remembered the condition she had placed upon their night together.

She met Alexander’s gaze. He was still smiling, but she suspected he was thinking of that morning, too. She had wished she hadn’t asked him to leave. He closed the book and rose, straightening his long legs with a slight grimace. “I had forgotten the discomfort of reading upon the floor.”

“You might have taken a chair,” she pointed out, grateful to be teasing again.

“I was only going to read one paragraph,” he replied, brushing a hand over his knee.

“How unfortunate that it proved so dreadful,” she deadpanned.

Alexander laughed, set the book on the table, and retrieved his coat. He shrugged it on, suddenly reluctant to see the visit end. She wanted to hear his thoughts upon the next chapter. More than that, she wanted him across the dinner table, sharing the rest of her evening. The pleasure of his company had become as tempting as his kisses.

He turned back to her and adjusted his cuff. “Thank you for inviting me.”

She found herself wanting him with her longer, so she said, “Stay.” Alexander’s hands stilled, and he looked at her. Charlotte's cheeks warmed, but she held his gaze. “For dinner,” she added. “There will be quite enough. My cook has never entirely accepted that I usually dine alone.”

His expression softened, and she felt a small rush of happiness before he even answered. “I should like to,” he said.

She went to the bellpull and gave the necessary instruction when a servant appeared. One more place. Nothing elaborate. It was a simple request. Her heart behaved as though she had done something considerably bolder. When they were alone again, she found Alexander studying the shelves. “Are you about to tell me the books belong elsewhere?”

“No.” He looked at her. “I was thinking how pleasant this has been.”

Charlotte came to stand beside him. “It has.”