Page 69 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

“Thank you, Dickens.”

As the carriage turned toward the road, she glanced out the window and saw, with much dismay, Lord Vincent watching them hurry away. A sense of foreboding flooded her. She hoped he would not follow, that he would forget he saw her. It was almost too much to hope.

Dickens settled into the seat across from her. “It appeared you needed assistance, my lady. I was glad to oblige.”

“I appreciate it. Apologies for being late. I overslept.” A feeble excuse, but it was the truth.

“Who was that man?” he asked, sounding more curious the accusatory.

“A business associate. I translated some text for him. Nothing more. Yesterday, he called on my maid.”

A bushy brow lifted. “Your maid?”

“He has an interested in her.” She waved it away as though it were nothing.

“I daresay that interested is not in her but you.”

Her eyes snapped up to him. “Why do you say that?”

“My lady, I do still have keen senses despite my advanced age. It’s not so difficult to see how he looked at you.”

Oh, blast it all. She didn’t need that kind of attention. But it was hard to ignore the way he gazed after the carriage as they rode by.

“I hope he doesn’t follow us,” she said with fervent conviction.

“Fear not, my lady. There are few who have the courage to approach Thornhurst Castle.”

He sounded so sure of himself, it was hard not to believe him. “I do hope you’re right, Dickens.”

As soon as they arrived at the castle, she leapt out of the carriage the moment it halted. There, standing in front of the open door waiting for her, was Leopold. Pale shadowy light framed him, as if he’d been waiting there for hours. Perhaps he had. Her arrival was normally after sunrise. He was dressed, composed, not entirely whole, surely, but unyielding the same.

A dark high-collared coat hung open down the front, tailored but looser than usual which, she assumed, was meant to conceal the bandages wrapped around his torso. Beneath it, a soft black shirt, unbuttoned at the collar to hint at the expanse of smooth skin below, and untucked at the waist. Black trousers and his polished boots completed the look.

His dark hair was tousled as it usually was with one lock falling over his forehead, fluttering in the faint breeze.

There was no cravat. No waistcoat. Merely the quiet strength of the man who showed up to greet her.

The moment she was out of the carriage and their gazes met, the question glinting in his eyes faded away to be replaced by the light of elation. He didn’t bother to hide his delight. A sweeping sensation coiled low and hot in her gut at his unabashed adoration. She was completely caught off guard with the sudden surge of feelings. Heat flamed in her cheeks. And though she met him on many occasions, today was different. Today, she sensed a deeper emotion emanating from him.

Saints preserve her.Her breath caught in her throat as he reached a hand to her in invitation. Gods, he was handsome in every way.

“You came,” he said, his voice low and soft in the quiet morning. As though he worried she may not arrive at all.

“I overslept,” she said.

He reached out for her hand as Lord Vincent did. But for Leopold, she jostled the books in her arms to willingly place her hand in his. He covered it with his free one. He held it there, the warmth of his skin pressing through the cotton gloves. A fervent wish to touch his hand without the barrier of the glove clanged through her.

He studied her for a long moment, the only sound the breeze swishing through the trees of the nearby forest. That and the wicked pounding of her heart against her chest. He tilted his head to one aside.

“Your hair is different.”

She flushed again. “Yes, I didn’t have time to—”

“I like it. It suits you,” he said. “Much better than the other way.”

Behind her, Dickens cleared his throat. “Shall we go inside, then?”

“Ah, yes.” Leopold released her hand and stepped aside, motioning for her to enter first. “Would you like tea?”

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