Page 17 of The Earl and Miss Muffet
Elena did not want to admit that, despite how close the competition would be, Anton would win every time. Chess or not.
“I am sure I could provide some riveting, intellectual conversation for our little bluestocking.” He looked at her and grinned.
Heat rushed to her cheeks without her permission.
“You are embarrassing her!” Mary chided. “Go and find Terrance or Blake. We have commandeered this room for the ladies only.”
“Fine, but I should like to request Miss Muffet’s presence for at least a few moments. I have found something of interest for her.”
Elena stood rather quickly, before Mary could think of another reason she should stay. She followed him down the staircase toward the library. It was chilly, likely from the drop in temperature because of the rain. The room sat empty except for a servant girl who coaxed a fire in the grate.
“Are you cold?” Anton must have followed her gaze or noticed the way she was hugging herself.
“I forgot my shawl in Mary’s sitting room.”
He frowned and turned to the maid. “Sarah, might you fetch Miss Muffet’s shawl?”
“Yes, your lordship.” She dipped a curtsy and hurried from the room.
“Come sit by the fire. In a few moments the room should warm up.” He put his hand on the small of her back and gently led her to a chair by the fire. She sat down, and he grabbed a chair from the table and pulled it opposite her. Sarah entered only a moment later with her shawl.
“Thank you.” Elena draped the coal-colored wool over her shoulders. “It isn’t dainty like many a lady’s, but I made this for the warmth.”
“You made that?” He seemed impressed.
“Yes, I enjoy all sorts of needlework—knitting, crocheting, and even lacework.”
“I knew you were hiding more secrets.”
She only carried one real secret. Would she ever be able to tell him about her sister? Her gaze lifted to Anton’s. “You wanted to speak to me about something?”
“Not really.” Anton’s expression turned sheepish. “I only cared to spare you the awkward wedding talk.”
Elena’s lips quirked. “It does get a tad excessive at times.”
“At times? I haven’t seen either of them speak of anything else when together.”
She laughed. “I don’t mind terribly.”
“No? Well then, you are more patient than I.”
Elena wondered if it was because of his feelings for Sophia or his bachelor status that made him feel this way. “Will you not be the same when you are engaged to be married?”
Their eyes met. He stared at her for a moment, and she couldn’t look away like she normally did. What was he thinking?
“No doubt I will be just as in love. But I imagine I will keep most of my feelings close to my heart rather than share them.”
“Your stance does you credit.”
“You think so?” His gaze intensified on her face, warming every feature.
She had to look away to form a coherent answer. “To keep your feelings private demonstrates a level of sacredness.”
He casually leaned over the arm of his chair toward her, drawing her gaze once more. “I’ve never thought of it that way, but it perfectly puts to words my take on the matter.”
She dug her hands into the weave of her shawl, happy to know that once more they shared the same opinion.
“What would you be like?” Anton asked. “If you were engaged.”
