He thought it might take a thousand horses to drag him away from staring at her teasing smile that practically lit up the room. Instead, it took a solitary shout.
“Lord Wyeth, tip the table over so we can see inside the blasted thing.”
Rather than do that, he untied the rope and let the dozen or so people who’d gathered take a look at what she’d uncovered. After the curious had their fill andwandered off, he helped Miss Garrison put it all back together. When everything was as it originally had been, he asked, “I don’t suppose you’d join me in the library for a libation?”
Leonora had never been so grateful for an invitation in her life. With books lining shelves, newspapers on tables, and thickly padded leather chairs for comfort, the library was just the sort of room she appreciated. Much quieter than the gaming floor. Two seconds after they’d settled into their seats opposite each other, a liveried young man was standing nearby.
Rook held up a finger and waved it toward her. “Brandy?”
“Actually, I’d prefer whiskey.”
He looked up at their attendant. “Scotch, Peter, for the lady and myself, your best bottle.”
“Yes, m’lord.” And off the lad went.
“You know his name.”
“I don’t believe in taking those who serve me for granted.”
The servant returned straightaway and set a crystal tumbler in front of each of them. Rook flipped him a coin which he readily caught. “Appreciate it, m’lord.”
It seemed Rook believed in being generous as well.
He lifted his glass. “To new discoveries.”
As all the discoveries he’d shared with her flashed through her mind, she feared her smile looked somewhat timid or abashed. Still, she nodded, took a sip, and welcomed the burn of the excellent scotch. While the taste might have reminded her of time spent with her father, nothing about Rook reminded her of himin the least. Although he was immensely relaxed, his presence dominated their corner, making it seem that he took up far more space than he did. She imagined other men approaching him, a king holding court, to discuss business.
“So what brought you to the Dragons tonight?” he asked, true interest reflected in his tone.
You. A desire to cross paths with you.Two days without speaking with him had seemed an eternity. No one else made her feel as though the words she spouted were important, and yet she thought if she spoke of something as simple as the shape of a cloud, his intense gaze would never waver or wander from her, seeking something more fascinating. “Sam and I wanted to pass out invitations to those we might have missed.” She retrieved one from her reticule as evidence regarding the truth of her words. “But we both got distracted.”
“How many are there?”
“Two dozen or so.”
“May I have a look at them?”
A strange request when she knew one had been delivered to him just that afternoon. Perhaps he hadn’t had a chance to read it yet. She handed it over.
“All of them?”
She dug them out and gave them to him, watched him peruse the first one, lightly and slowly tracing a finger over the numerous inked indentions where the raised letters on her machine had struck paper. She’d never expected to be envious of a slip of parchment, but she found herself wishing for him to map out all her various dips, hollows, valleys, and peaks in a similar fashion. Fighting the urge to squirm, she took another sip of the scotch and worked to give theimpression that she was unaffected by his sensual outlining of words.
“You created all these yourself?”
Her throat felt tight, and she had to clear it before she could answer. “It seemed I should if I’m going to tout the merits of the writing machine. An example, if you will, of only one of its many uses.”
“Do you anticipate it’ll put stationers out of business?”
“No, not at all. I doubt anyone else will have the patience for creating an abundance of duplicates. They might generate one as an example...” She lifted her shoulder in a hapless shrug. Most would see the machine as a tool, whereas she saw it as a friend. It never made her feel unappreciated. It brought her calm in an odd sort of way. On rare occasions, she even spoke to it. While the conversations were one-sided, she’d found that voicing concerns often gave her a new perspective.
“Would you be opposed to my asking Peter to hand them out for you?”
She should place them in waiting hands herself but knew if she started talking about the machine with potential investors, she would carry on until their eyes went glassy. Besides, she was much more comfortable speaking with Rook than with strangers. And as it had occurred to her earlier, she couldn’t very well hand them out to men she’d not yet been introduced to. She considered asking Rook to accompany her—for surely he knew just about everyone—but it wasn’t his product to sell. Besides, she wanted a little time to simply sit here with him. They’d had so few moments when they weren’t giving in to passion. “I’d appreciate it.”
He raised an arm and snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, Peter was back at their side.
“Be a good lad and distribute these among the members for Miss Garrison, if you please. Inquire as to whether they already received one, and if so, carry on to someone else.”
