Page 5 of The Earl and Miss Muffet
“I’m not agreeing to marry her.” The very idea made him laugh. “But I might be able to lure her from her room.” Drat. The burden of earning the lady’s regard was going to have to fall to him once more.
“Phew,” Terrance said, from across the table. “We were worried about you for a moment.”
“Everyone deserves a friend,” he said.
Mary smiled at him. “I most heartily agree.”
Anton pushed his seat back and stood. “No better time than the present, I suppose.” He saluted the others and went to the library. He sifted through several titles before settling on the right one. Pulling the book from the shelf, he went to find Miss Muffet. He turned around and almost laughed at himself. There she was, sitting in the corner of the library on the little tuffet he often used as a footrest, her head buried in a book.
Her mousy brown hair was unusually thick with frizzy curls heavy in front to hide her face. He could not see her spectacles from this angle, but he noticed earlier that they were tinted and like a mask of glass, obscuring the color of her eyes. She was petite and almost childlike—especially when sitting on a stool.
Stepping closer, he accidentally spooked her, and she jumped from her position. Her book flew to the ground, and she backed up tight against the bookshelf. Anton’s mouth dropped. Her spectacles were missing, and her eyes were large and doe-like. Her lashes, curled and profuse, framed two mesmerizing pools of blue.
They say the eyes are windows to the soul, and for a moment, Anton felt like he was staring into hers.
“Uh, er . . .” Anton was at a loss for words. This was a normal occurrence for him when facing a beautiful woman—just not one he expected to encounter with Miss Muffet.
“You startled me,” she breathed.
Anton focused on her unflattering hair. “Forgive me. I stumbled upon a book I thought might interest you, but it seems you have found another.”
Miss Muffet didn’t smile, but she did relax her shoulders. “It’sGulliver’s Travels.”
Anton bent over and picked up the book. “So it is. How do you like it?”
“I like it very much. Might I ask what book you wanted to recommend?”
Anton held outGulliver’s Travelsand the one he selected. “Lyrical Ballads—the most recent edition. Have you read it?”
“No, I am afraid my father keeps a small library.” She eyed the book with eagerness.
“Please, take it. I particularly thought of “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by Coleridge. I hoped that if you liked poems with biblical symbolism, then this might appeal to you. There are other poems of worth in there as well.”
She took both the books and pulled them to her chest. “Thank you.”
Anton stared at her eyes again for a moment. He had her attention, so it seemed silly to let her escape back into a book. This was his chance to get to know her better and help her feel at ease at Banbury Castle.
“Do you play chess?”
She batted her long eyelashes and whispered, “A little.”
“Good. You must play opposite me.” His expression turned teasing. “It’s practically your duty as a houseguest.”
“Very well.” She did not seem thrilled with the idea, but when he waved her toward the small rectangular table under the window, she followed.
Once they were seated, Anton urged Miss Muffet to make the first move. After several quick turns, assuring they were well into the game, Anton asked, “I, uh, noticed you are not wearing your spectacles. You must not need them to see the game pieces.”
Miss Muffet cheek’s flushed. “Oh, yes, I can see the game well enough. I did not realize I had forgotten to put them on.”
“You must have fairly good eyesight. I assumed you were dependent upon them.”
Miss Muffet didn’t answer him but acted as if her next move required her utmost attention. He switched to a new line of questions. “What other sorts of pastimes do you enjoy outside of reading?”
She lifted her large eyes to meet his for less than a breath. “I like chess.”
He couldn’t help himself; he grinned. “I’m glad. You are good too. We might have to make this a regular activity while you are at Banbury.”
“I . . . I should like that.”
