Page 15 of For a Lady's Fiery Heart
Making her way downstairs, she heard nothing as she walked past the dining room, parlour and drawing room. Evidently, no one was about yet. Or else, she had missed them. It was strange to have the quietness permeating the space around her.
She was used to having her mother and sister around for company. A pang of loneliness assaulted her for a moment. They were on their way back home, no doubt. She had missed their departure, as they had been due to set early for London.
She turned down the hallway to the right and soon found herself standing in the library doorway. "Finally, a familiar place," she breathed. She entered the sunlit room and headed to one of the shelves. She was eager to look through the Deveroux's extensive library, as James had told her of the expansive collection of tomes that filled their country home. Her eyes lit up, and she walked between shelf after shelf, feeling as if she were in heaven.
After a while, she came to the back of the library and found a shelf that would interest her. She climbed the ladder to the very top and found a book that looked enticing. Caroline was about to turn around but halted when she heard a quiet voice from the other side of the shelf.
She stood on her tiptoes, looking over the shelf, and saw James sitting below, quietly mumbling to himself as he read aloud. She could not hear what he was reading, but she smiled to herself. His deep voice filled her with a tingling sensation just to listen to it.
She looked around and saw a loose leaf of torn paper in the book she had taken from the shelf. Someone had used it as a bookmark in the past, it would seem. She took it out from between the pages, tearing several small sections away and balling them up.
When she had five or six, she aimed carefully and threw them in James' direction. Her first two attempts missed completely, but the third landed in the centre of his book, and he looked up, halting his mumbled reading. He turned around, looking at the shelf behind him.
Caroline covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. She ducked behind the top of the shelf and waited for a few seconds. When she did not hear him get up, she peeked over the ledge again and launched another projectile. This time, it bounced off his head and fell to the floor.
James swung around again, looking this way and that. Caroline could not hold back her laughter this time, giving herself away. James's head shot up, his face relaxing into a smile. He stood and closed his book, placing it on one of the side tables.
"I thought I heard something," he said. He headed around the end of the shelf, and she climbed down the ladder. He met her at the bottom, offering her a hand. She took it, and he tweaked her nose. "What are you doing up so early?" he asked.
"Early?" she scoffed with a laugh. "It is nearly noon."
He did not let go of her hand, leading around to the other side of the shelf where a cosy sitting area had been set up before the large floor-to-ceiling windows. "Well, it seems early for the lady of the house. My father sends his regards, by the way."
He motioned for her to take a chair, and she gladly did so. Sitting beside her, his eyes flashed with mischief. "I was under the impression that all married ladies stayed abed until noon at least."
She raised her brows. "Well, you must know some very spoiled ladies. I am sorry to disappoint you. I am an early riser–most days."
"That does not disappoint me in the slightest. I am of the opinion that each day is precious. They should never be wasted." James leaned forward. "However, the last few weeks have been very strenuous. I slept in later than I have ever allowed myself to do."
"It is understandable," Caroline said. She enjoyed the easy banter between them. She relaxed, hoping this was a sign of what their relationship would soon blossom into. "It is so quiet in the house. Is your father still here?" she asked.
“He is, but it is a large house. It is easy for people to get lost in the silence. However, I hope to have more social events in future. My father and I, bachelors as we were, had no use for house parties or galas. Perhaps with you here now, that will change?"
Caroline shrugged. "I was never one for large parties. However, it could be fun to throw a soiree for the neighbours. I should like to meet them."
"What a splendid idea!" James exclaimed. "I shall run the idea by my father as soon as possible."
A short silence ensued. Caroline looked around the room, sighing contentedly. "It is a beautiful library. Ours was much smaller, and especially since we moved to London, there was no room to bring all of our books. I shall like to have something fresh to read," she replied, holding up the copy of Milton she had found on the uppermost shelves.
"Ahh, Milton. I see you are one ofthose,"he said, quirking an eyebrow.
She laughed at his antics. "And just what is that supposed to mean my lord?" she asked with an air of teasing mockery. He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.
"I do not know. I believe that all poetry lovers are alike in several ways."
"In what way?"
James looked as if he would rather not answer. "Oh, well, I suppose they are all moody, hopeless romantics who cannot see the world as it is. They are constantly looking at the world through rose-coloured glasses."
She let her mouth hang open in an unladylike fashion but did not think he would mind. "Excuse me! I take offence to that!"
"Most poets do," he shot back. He held up his hands in surrender. "However, I digress. I do not think you are like most poetry lovers I have met. You seem to be unwavered by their emotional, dramatic drivel."
"Drivel?" Caroline exclaimed. "I suppose you think the Psalms are a lot of drivel, too?"
"Oh, no. I have great respect for the Psalmist. No–I suppose I do not care for the endless sighings of the hopeless romantic. If a man loves a woman, why not come right out and declare it? Why must one write endless sonnets in the hope the lady will return his affections?"
Caroline studied him for a moment. He looked deeply into her eyes, never once taking his gaze from hers. Was he trying to tell her something through this little speech? She looked away. It was too soon for her to hope that he might love her. She did, however, feel that he liked her a little. Perhaps in time, his feelings would grow into love.
