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“No, you may not. And I’m not writing a novel. I’m compiling an etymological dictionary.”
“Featuring rogues.”
“What you read was a symptom of extreme discomposure caused by your loud disturbance beneath my window.”
“And inspired by my brawny shoulders.”
“My dictionary will be a comprehensive exploration of the origins of the modern day English language.”
“Is that all?”
“It’s a formidable undertaking. It will be my life’s work. If I complete it before my demise, I’ll progress to a study of female authors.”
“There’s a large market for etymological dictionaries?” He’d dropped his arm from around her waist, but she stayed within touching distance.
“I don’t expect it to sell particularly well outside of scholarly circles.”
“Then where’s the profit? Don’t you want it to go into a second printing and be rudely reviewed by all of the most sarcastic critics?”
“Just like a rogue. Always thinking of profit. It’s not about monetary reward, Wright. It’s about intellectual curiosity. Awakening minds. Expanding vocabularies.” She brushed a lock of hair over her right cheek. “I find that people are bafflingly incurious about the origins of the words they use. Take the wordoxymoronfor example. It’s contradictory in itself.Oxycomes from the Greek word for sharp andmoronfrom the word for dull or foolish.”
“Scintillating.”
“Itisscintillating. It excites me to no end to uncover these elegant origin stories. There are many words that contain two conflicting ideas, likechiaroscuro, light and dark, andpianoforte, soft and loud.”
“I think maybe you need to leave this library more often.”
“I was sickly as a child, Wright. I spent my days in isolation from other children, alone in my room,and I started memorizing dictionaries. Words are living things. They must be treated with respect. They’re born, they live and grow, and change, just as we do.”
As she spoke, her entire face changed. She lost the distant and disapproving look, and her hazel eyes lit with emotion. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, her hair glowing in the fading sun like a candle flame inside amber glass. Her long, slender fingers waved through the air, illustrating her meaning.
“Sometimes words fall out of fashion and wither and die, never to be used again. I find that dreadfully sad. I make it my mission to use as many lost, arcane words as possible in an attempt to imbue them with new life. I don’t expect you to understand my obsession.”
“I read the occasional book. Time passes slowly at sea.”
Or sometimes it passed swiftly in a deafening blaze of cannon fire and shouting. The dull smack of bodies hitting water.
The backhand of fate across a man’s back. Or his belly.
Blood frothing in the wake.
But he wasn’t supposed to think about the battle in Greece. The Admiralty had pinned a medal on him for bravery and told him to turn his gaze firmly forward, never backward.
“The occasional book...?” She shook her head. He’d disappointed her. “I’m alogophile, a lover of words, as well as a book-devouring bibliophile. One might even say I suffer from bibliomania. Readingkeeps the mind nimble and gives me fodder for my dictionary. Reading is my greatest pleasure in life.”
Now that was just too easy. “Spoken like a lady who hasn’t experienced real pleasures.”
“Spoken like a rogue who doesn’t read enough books. You could impress your sweethearts with a larger, more varied vocabulary at your disposal.”
“My sweethearts are more impressed by the size of... other things.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh come now, Wright. Wouldn’t you like to learn some impressive new words for wooing? Your paramour’s voice could becanorousandmellifluous, her eyespellucidandlambent. Her lips might beambrosialorsapid, and her figurepulchritudinousandlissome.”
He didn’t know about pellucid, but the lady’s eyes were a lovely light brown color with sparks of gold that flashed when she talked about words.
She really,reallyloved words.
It was plain to see that this prim and proper lady had passion simmering inside her, waiting to be unleashed by some lucky sot with a large vocabulary. He’d never be the one to bring her passion to the boiling point, but he could have a little more fun lighting those sparks in her eyes.
