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Chapter 16
That evening, Edward found himself standing at the top of the staircase that led down to the servants’ quarters. Was it wrong that he felt the impulse to descend? What would he say to Laura if he knocked on her door, begging an audience? He’d no doubt be struck dumb, looking like the world’s most audacious fool. No, Edward would never put himself in such a position, but oh, how he longed to see her one more time before retiring. Even if they merely shared silence.
Edward scratched his head and pondered the severity of his imagination. Never had a desire come over him so fully. A desire that seemed to command his whole body. When he thought of Laura, there was a warmth in his chest never known before, even back in the days when Edward was something of a playboy.
“Is everything all right, Your Grace?” It was Harrison.
Edward cleared this throat nervously. He had been caught, in some sense. “Yes, yes. Was just … going to enquire about some herbal tea.”
“I can get it for you, M’lord. You could have come into the kitchen.”
“I suppose. Didn’t know if anyone was still awake.”
Harrison looked at Edward dubiously, brows knit. Yes, Edward’s behaviour was odd, and there was no way of getting around it.
“I’m always here for you, Your Grace.” Harrison turned to retreat to the kitchen, and Edward smiled to himself. How utterly ridiculous he’d become. That night at supper, seated by himself, watching Laura pour the wine and then touching her soft skin. He’d touched her before, that day that she dropped the teacup and Edward prevented her from falling. But even then, Edward touched garments, not flesh.
Her wrist was smooth and warm. Her skin was like porcelain. Even the little moments that they encountered one another were made monumental in his mind. Those moments made of dishes for a feast, and Edward’s mind was voracious for them. That was when Edward realized that he had been standing there at the top of the staircase for several moments, contemplating Laura’s wrist. It was all too ridiculous for words.
Returning to his study, Edward waited for the tea to arrive. It was Harrison that delivered it, sadly. Edward heaved a sigh and reminded himself that he was a lord of some standing and not a fanciful daydreamer. It was time to focus on more important tasks.
“Chamomile,” Harrison said with a nod of the head.
“Many thanks.”
“It is my understanding that Lord Blackmoor’s carriage has returned out front.”
Edward took a sip of his tea. “Has it now?”
“I’ll tell him you’re in the study.”
“Trust me; he’ll know.” Edward smiled to himself. It wasn’t uncommon for Graham to go out carousing and then return to sleep in one of the estate’s guest rooms. Edward took some pleasure in this happening because Graham was always particularly fascinating when he was worse for wear.
Moments later, Graham came stumbling through the door. “Do I have stories to tell.”
“I bet you do.” Graham seated himself, putting his feet back up onto the desk. “Where were you?”
“The Duke of Somerset had a ball.”
“Pity I wasn’t invited.”
“The duke doesn’t care for you because of your dashing good looks. He, as well, is trying to find a bride by year’s end, and he’s afraid that you’ll take what is rightfully his.”
“Pity he should think that. I might just resolve myself to marrying Anna Rutley.”
Graham looked at him quizzically.
“It’s what you were suggesting earlier this day!”
“Not until I saw the laundress.”
“Bah!” Edward threw his head back and held it in his hands. “Enough of that.”
“Of course, because of your station, you’re unable to marry for love. I wish for your own happiness that you could.”
“Don’t get sentimental on me, old chap. Tea?”
“No, thank you.” Graham pulled a flask out of his jacket and took a sip. “Enough talk of love. I don’t entirely believe in it. What I do believe is that I need to sleep in approximately a quarter of an hour.”
