Page 21 of Marigold and the Marquess
Others pushed past him.
Marigold had been walking ahead with the curator, and now motioned for the man to walk on while she hurried back to Leo’s side. “Lord Muir, is something wrong?”
Leo could not find his voice.
The Hall of Dragons was a windowless room.
In his mind’s eye, it resembled a tomb…or a dark, dank prison.
This exhibit sucked the breath from him.
Marigold took his hand.
Lord, he was shaking.
How utterly humiliating.
She led him back into the main hall that had tall windows to allow in plenty of light. “Is it the darkness, Leo?”
“No.” He finally let out a breath. “It is the lack of windows. The closed-in walls.”
“I see.”
No, she could not possibly understand.
“Please stay right here,” she said, her voice quite gentle. “I’ll ask Mr. Smythe-Owens to summon his assistants. They only need to measure the available exhibit space within that room. I’ll let him know you are pressed for time and I promised you a tour of the museum.”
She took off into that darkened hall.
He stood there like an idiot, sweating and his heart racing.
She was back a moment later, and immediately placed her hand in the crook of his arm to lead him past rows of glass cases and take him back upstairs. “I’ll walk you through the exhibits later. Let me show you the duke’s private library first. Only scholars are permitted inside. Security is very tight because the library holds too many priceless manuscripts to allow regular visitors in.”
She did not stop chattering the entire way upstairs, but the gentle tone of her voice soothed him. He realized she was talking to him on purpose, giving him the chance to calm down. She handled him beautifully, he had to allow. Not fussing over him, which would have added to his embarrassment. Not ridiculing him, which would have angered him.
This girl did not have a wicked bone in her body. The thought of mocking him had not even entered her mind.
He had mostly calmed down by the time they entered the private library. “Thank you, Miss Farthingale.”
Big, blue eyes stared back at him. “May I ask, what happened back there?”
“You may ask, but I have no answer for you.” He noticed books piled up on several tables along with some notebooks and satchels to indicate at least two scholars were using the library. Since it was past noon, he expected they had left their belongings in place in this secure area while they went off to have a meal.
Obviously, Huntsford would never allow drink or food near these valuable texts.
At the thought, Leo realized his throat was parched.
Marigold seemed to read his mind. “There’s a private dining room for use of the duke and any visiting scholars. Poor Aunt Hortensia is probably starving by now. Let me show you quickly around the bookshelves and then we shall fetch her. How does that sound?”
“Enticing,” he said with a short laugh. “My throat is rather dry, and I do find I am famished.”
But his hunger was mostly for Marigold.
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and savor her beautiful lips.
She had handled him expertly and with an inordinate amount of compassion.
He was impressed.
