Page 4 of The Earl and Miss Muffet
Elena glanced around. Extending her hand, she gently touched the spines on the row of books closest to her. She knew Lord Crawford awaited an answer, so she said softly, “I could be happy with a book of almost any genre.”
“Really? No preference?”
“I . . . I do enjoy poetry, if well written.” She turned away, as she remembered Lord Crawford liked poetry too. She couldalmost hear his voice reciting stanzas to Miss Bliss at their house party. Was he still heartbroken over losing Miss Bliss’s hand to his younger brother?
“Do you have a favorite poet?”
“Milton.” With her quick glance, she discovered Lord Crawford’s amused smile.
“Let me guess,Paradise Lost?”
“Why, yes. Do you care for it?” Why was she making conversation? She knew Bianca’s rules.
Lord Crawford took a step toward her. “I find its biblical retelling of Adam and Eve fascinating. I am merely eager to discover a woman’s opinion on the poem.”
She could not stop herself. Her opinion had never been sought after. “You think I should agree that a woman is responsible for the fall from paradise and, therefore, man should be viewed as above reproach?”
Lord Crawford seemed surprised by her again, but he only shrugged. “I am simply curious as to why it is your favorite. Milton was not exactly generous in the way he described the fairer sex.”
She fingered the ridge on the top of a book near her. “I have not been educated on the theology behind the poem, only what I have learned at church and through my own studies.” He patiently waited for her to finish. “The poem honors a man’s right to choose. Almost all injustice stems from the desire to remove agency from man. Even a misuse of this power tends to limit it.” Did he think her impertinent? She dared not risk another glance.
“I agree,” he said.
His answer made her look without thinking, but she quickly focused on his cravat. “Truly?”
“Yes, but there is much in the poem I disagree with.”
Her eyes widened behind her spectacles. She wanted to know his opinion more than she wanted to share her own. “I am sure your knowledge is far greater than my own,” she whispered.
“I didn’t mean to imply such a thing.” Lord Crawford turned away from her to face the bookshelf. It placed him directly beside her, much closer than he was before. He thumbed through the books and pulled out a few, piling them in his arm. “Forgive me if I offended you. I just cannot fathom Adam choosing Eve over God. The idea does not sit well with me. The God I know would want Adam to be with Eve and would see the creation of a family as the first step of many leading to their redemption through Christ.”
Elena repressed a smile. She was having her first enlightening conversation, and it was with a man . . . an earl even! The thought made her greedy enough to speak again. “I am not offended, Lord Crawford. In fact, I like your view on marriage better than Milton’s.” Now she had said too much. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I . . . please, excuse me.” She ducked her head and hurried from the room. Why did she have to ruin the moment by telling Lord Crawford she liked his view of marriage? How presumptuous could she be? And what would Bianca say if she found out? This was her second day here, and she had already broken so many rules. Elena twisted her fingers together all the way to her room. For all her painful efforts at discourse, she did not even have a book in hand to show for it.
Chapter 3
Oneweekdown,andthree weeks left with Miss Muffet. Anton entered the upstairs sitting room and sighed. It seemed too convenient to find Terrance, Gunther, and Mary on the balcony sipping lemonade at the exact time he needed to speak with them. Time to assess the situation and boost everyone’s morale. He stepped closer, realizing they were already speaking about Miss Muffet.
“I tried to convince her to come with me the milliner’s, but Miss Muffet informed me she does not wear ribbons—not even on her bonnets.” Mary’s brow cinched together. “Who does not wear ribbons?”
“I’ve never thought they complimented my complexion,” Gunther said.
Terrance shook his head. “A shame. Ribbons might improve your appearance.”
Mary gave them both a quelling look. “The point is, she turns down all my invitations.”
Anton sank into a seat around the small table, and Mary poured him a glass of lemonade. “Surely, she must like one of us,” he said. “We can’t be that bad.”
Terrance lifted his glass. “I did my best to befriend her when we met at Rosewood Park, remember? She has to want friends for any of our efforts to make a difference.”
“Why is anyone worried?” Gunther asked. “The woman is content to stay in her room. I say, let her have her peace.”
Anton shrugged. “I know she is a different sort of woman, but when have any of us shied from a challenge?” Anton took his role of hosting seriously, but he didn’t want to be the lone entertainer.
Gunther’s eyebrows danced. “A handsome, single earl like yourself shouldn’t have any problems luring a girl from her room.”
Anton recalled the spark of life Miss Muffet showed in the library the day she had arrived. Despite her soft voice, she had offered her opinions quite decisively. He’d been intrigued—not that he would admit that to anyone—and almost felt a sort of connection. Maybe a connection was a bit of a stretch, but no one else discussed literature with him. Her neck, on the other hand, he could not deny was fine indeed. He coughed into his hand. Regardless of his ridiculous thoughts, no one else seemed to be making any progress. He downed his lemonade. “Challenge accepted.”
Gunther’s eyes widened. “You were supposed to throw it back in my face. I don’t want my best friend saddled with a hermit. She is not your equal in disposition.”
