Caleb began to call them out ‘I can see many shades of various grey; there is foaming of white, pockets of black; green and brown in the tumultuous waves…’
‘Even some red, look!’ Hannah pointed out thin, fine, barely visible strokes of dark burgundy red lining the curve of some waves. ‘It accentuates the energy and movement of the water.’
Caleb squinted at the canvas and looked quietly astonished at the discovery of red in the waves.
‘Now tell me-’ Hannah requested ‘do you see any blue?’
Caleb stepped back and looked around at the painting, taking it in as a whole, then with a sharp intake of breath, admitted ‘I cannot!’
‘Because there is none!’ Hannah revealed. ‘The spectrum of colours engaged in the piece is so wide and varying that you could stand across the room and swear the water was blue!’
‘Yet there is no blue!’ Caleb clarified in awe.
They had become accustomed to tiptoeing stoically around one another and this – they both seemed to realise in synchronicity – was the first conversation that had flowed between them without tension nor self-consciousness. They had connected tentatively over the shared appreciation of this art piece.
Hannah smiled, gratified at their meeting of minds. Caleb smiled back at her – an expression she hadn’t seen upon him before; one of wonder and fascination.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘Will you join me in the library, Hannah?’ Caleb asked as he stood from the dining table. Anne looked almost offended and Emmeline’s eyes sparkled as she witnessed her brother displaying warmth toward his new wife.
‘Oh – thank you. That would be wonderful,’ Hannah accepted and pushed her chair back. She looked to the Dowager Duchess with a slight nod as she passed, only to be glowered at in response.
Caleb led the way across the hall and held the large, mahogany door open for Hannah to enter. She ducked into the library and was once again enamoured by the change of atmosphere. From the draughtiness of the echoing hallway to the warm silence within the library. As the door closed behind them, it felt like a new little world only they could inhabit.
Hannah wondered why, specifically, he had brought her here; if there was a particular book he wished to discuss. But Caleb did not utter a word. He slowly paced the length of a bookshelf, running his finger along the spines of the volumes as he passed them. Hannah simply watched – she would not start picking out books uninvited.
His movement cast shadows dancing across the room in the warm glow of the flickering candlelight and Hannah breathed in the comforting scent of leather and old paper. It was no wonder this was Caleb’s favourite place.
Hannah wanted to respect Caleb’s silence and remain peaceful, but she also wondered what was expected of her. She was about to ask when Caleb’s hand came to rest on a very large, heavy-looking tome bound in a beautiful casement of thick, tan leather. He used both hands to dislodge it from the neighbouring books and blew away a light covering of dust from the top.
‘Look here,’ Caleb requested and Hannah crossed the room, eager to see what he had selected. As she arrived at his shoulder, she took a sharp intake of breath, noticing the ornate cover and gilded lettering that readA Rare Collection of Renaissance Art.
‘Oh!’ Hannah exclaimed involuntarily. Caleb turned to take in her expression and saw there a sparkle in her eyes – she lit up at the appearance of the book.
Caleb handed it to her and as he did so, their hands briefly brushed past one another. Hannah caught her breath and Caleb’s eyes flickered up at her with a sincerity she had never seen before; there was an awareness that neither of them would articulate but both were acutely conscious of its presence.
Hannah gratefully took the large book into her arms, cradling it with care. Delicately, she lifted the front cover, her fingers trembling slightly. The beautiful specimen of literature opened at a page depicting the Last Supper. Hannah took her time studying each small, detailed face and felt Caleb step forwards and lean in over her shoulder to see more clearly.
‘Here-’ Caleb leaned across and turned a couple of pages, clearly familiar with the book and aware of where to find the image he hoped to show her.
He was so close to her that she could feel his warm breath upon her cheek and she breathed in the intoxicating scent of his cologne; a subtle mix of sandalwood and citrus. All her senses were on alert, feeling him in such close proximity. The atmosphere felt charged, yet Caleb seemed so relaxed.
He located the desired page and smoothed it down with his hand, for Hannah to see.
The image was of a library; it was a warm glow of orange illuminating rows of heavy leather-clad books. In the foreground was a richly-coloured rug upon a wooden floor and up above was a stained-glass window, casting glorious colours that pooled on the floor.
‘This is a page I spent many hours marvelling at, as a child. I wanted to live inside this picture,’ Caleb whispered, his words deep and low at her neck as he bent over the book.
‘It’s glorious,’ Hannah agreed. ‘But you already have your own beautiful library.’
‘I am privileged, I know. As a boy, however, this library belonged to my father and access was not readily granted.Thislibrary-’ Caleb indicated the picture in the book ‘was my ideal library. Inside my head, I invented a whole world around it…’
‘I expect the reality never quite matches up to the dream…’
Caleb paused. ‘Sometimes, it can exceed it…’
Hannah turned to look at him and his face was only inches from her own; much closer than she had anticipated yet he did not move away.
