Reaching for Lady Persephone’s hand, Roswell brought it up to his lips. “I will call upon you again, and we can go visit that babbling brook you were telling me about.”
Lady Persephone demurely lowered her gaze. “I would like that, my lord.”
“Excellent,” he responded, releasing her hand.
As he departed from the townhouse, Roswell couldn’t help but acknowledge that he felt no thrill of anticipation at seeing Lady Persephone again. However, feelings were a trivial detail when it came to marriage. He was more concerned that his wife would be prepared for the life of a marchioness.
But doubt began to creep in at the thought of making Lady Persephone his wife.
Dressed in a white wrapper, Ellie walked down the darkened hallway with a candle in her hand. She couldn’t sleep and had decided she needed to select a book from the library. With any luck, she would grow tired as she read.
Frankly, she was much too excited to sleep. Three gentlemen had visited her today, and Cosgrove had even asked her to go riding tomorrow in Hyde Park. He was a dashing gentleman, and she had no doubt she could grow quite fond of him.
But could she grow to love him?
The idea of marrying for love had left her mind the moment Lord Worthington moved into the manor. It wasn’t that she didn’t want that, but she had to be realistic. If love did come along, then all the better, but she wouldn’t search for it. Sadly, she didn’t have the luxury of time to do so.
She stopped at the library door and opened it. Stepping inside, she saw that the curtains were closed and the fire had died in the hearth. She turned her attention to the bookshelves along the wall and brought the candle close enough to read the titles.
There were so many books to choose from, since Lord Bideford kept his library well stocked. Her eyes landed on a book of sonnets by William Shakespeare, and she eagerly reached for it. As she held the book in her hand, she heard the sound of light snoring from the opposite side of the room.
Ellie held her candle towards the direction of the noise and saw Lord Bideford asleep on the sofa. He was laying down, with his cravat undone and his white shirt hanging loosely, and he looked somewhat peaceful.
Ellie knew the appropriate thing to do was to leave the library and close the door behind her. But something compelled her to stay, and it was that something that caused her to walk closer to him. She stopped next to him and crouched down.
His soft breathing, accompanied by an occasional snore, caused her to smile. Lord Bideford was a handsome man, but he had such a gruff exterior. She had seen glimpses of a kind heart, but he kept it buried deep within him.
To her surprise, he blinked a few times and opened his eyes.
Lord Bideford stiffened. “What are you doing in my bedchamber, Miss Bentley?” he growled.
“I’m not in your bedchamber,” she rushed to assure him.
He sat up. “If you think you can trap me into a marriage, you are sorely mistaken.”
Rising, she said, “I have no desire to trap you into marriage.”
“Then why are you here?”
Ellie put her hand up. “You fell asleep in the library, and I wanted to ensure you were all right.” At least, that was the partial truth.
His eyes scanned the room, and she saw relief flicker across his face. “My apologies,” Lord Bideford said. “I’m afraid I thought the worst of you… again.”
“I would expect no less from you,” she joked. “If you will excuse me, I have some reading I would like to see to.”
“What book did you choose?”
She arched an eyebrow. “I have no intention of stealing it, if that is your concern.”
“No, it is not,” Lord Bideford replied. “I just find myself curious as to what book you snuck into the library at such a late hour for.”
Ellie held the book up. “It’s a book of sonnets by William Shakespeare.”
“I would not have taken you for a lover of Shakespeare.”
“May I ask why?”
“Some of his material can be rather dark.”
