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Chapter Fourteen
“Fergus, just come and look at it and give me your thoughts,” Antony pleaded with his brother, desperate for another opinion.
They were standing in the study as night had fallen. The whole day he had managed to avoid Lady Hermione in order to keep his promise to her not to kiss her again. He had successfully distracted himself from her by concentrating on his work, but now he needed some help.
“This is not my forte, you know that,” Fergus said, looking up from his own desk where he had been going over his next naval orders.
“Well, when you are Duke, it will be your responsibility to look over this anyway, so come look.” He beckoned Fergus once more to come to his desk. Fergus sighed but followed his instructions, standing to his feet and crossing the space to come and stand beside his brother.
Antony’s was the larger desk of the two for it was always covered in paperwork to do with the estate and the tenants. He pushed a map in front of Fergus’ nose and tapped the new drawings with a pencil.
“There,” he said, waiting for a reaction.
“There what?” Fergus asked, screwing up his nose. “Antony, you’re going to have to tell me what it is I am looking at.”
“These are the new cottages I want to build for the tenants that live in this row of cottages on Rose Lane,” Antony said, sighing. “Remember? We talked about this before.”
“Oh, yes,” Fergus said, stepping away again. “It seems fine to me.”
“You barely looked!” Antony complained.
“I trust your judgement, brother,” Fergus smiled. “Now, if you would excuse me, that is enough work for me for one day.”
“Where are you off to?” Antony asked, looking up from the map.
“To the drawing room! I imagine Lady Phoebe is practicing her piano again this evening.”
“Is that a draw to you?” Antony asked, teasing his brother. Fergus hovered in the doorway, sending him a wry smile.
“She’s quite an interesting lady,” he said after a minute. “More so than I first realized.” He smiled in parting before he closed the door.
“So is her sister,” Antony muttered in aggravation before turning his attention back to the map. It was no good. He couldn’t be certain what he was planning was right. The following day he would get his steward’s opinion on it, but perhaps in the meantime he could do some more reading on such things in the library to give himself some ideas.
He rolled up the map and tucked it under his arm, tucking his pencil over his ear as he left the room, carrying the candle that had been keeping him company. As he walked into the library, he could see another aura from a different orange candle, cascading light through the shelves and books. He meandered through them, coming the center of the room where the fireplace and chairs were, to find that he was not the only one who had sought out the library.
“Good evening,” he said.
Lady Hermione jumped in her chair so much that she dropped the book on the floor, turning around with wide eyes at his approach and pulling a chuckle from him. She had sat in a different chair to the one he had found her in on the first night.
“Is the gothic tale scaring you and putting you on edge by any chance?” he asked, walking toward her.
“A little,” she confessed as she picked up the book from the floor. “You should not go sneaking around so. I blame you.”
“I’d give you an argument on that if I did not have another to make,” he said, dropping the map down to a nearby table. “You’re reading the book I’m reading.”
“I was reading it first,” she pointed out, looking up from the book with a smile.
“Touché,” he agreed with a nod. “Just don’t lose my place.” She made a point of pretending to change where his bookmark was in the book. “Are you teasing me again, Lady Hermione?”
“Not at all,” she said quickly, replacing the bookmark again. She looked around him, apparently just now realizing they were alone. “Why are you here?”
“I have come to do some research,” he explained as he turned to the nearest bookshelves, looking for some works on estate management. “Rest assured, I will not steal the book off you.”
“I was more thinking we should have a chaperone if you are going to be in here too.” Her words made him pause with a hand on one of the books and look back to her. She was fiddling with the book in her lap rather nervously.
“Do you truly want one?” he asked, prepared to do as she asked if it came to it. She did not look especially pleased by the idea. “Look, I have given you my promise not to kiss you again. Surely there is no harm in us sitting here, both doing our reading?”
“I suppose not,” she accepted, lifting her book another time. He smiled triumphantly before turning back to his book and lifting it off of the shelves with a few others. He crossed the room and took up a chair nearby to hers, being careful to leave his father’s seat empty.
