Reuben glared at her, making his stare hard, mostly so he did not dwell on how tempting her lips looked when tugged into a smile.
“She could have been severely hurt. And look at the mess she created. I cannot believe you find this amusing.”
Her smile dropped swiftly. “I think your aunt is entitled to make a mess in her own house, and she told me to leave her be. What was I to do? Insist I shadow her every step? She is a grown woman, Mr. Hunter.”
Mr. Hunter. The formality bit through the air, striking him deep in the chest. He had deliberately avoided asking her to call him by his first name, thinking it would be easier to keep some distance between them if she did not call him Reuben.
Maybe it was keeping some distance between them, but he was not sure he liked it. He blew out a long breath. “You are meant to be looking after her. What if she had fallen?”
“I do not wish harm to come to her any more than you do, Mr. Hunter, but I must rest at some point or I will be no good to your aunt at all.” She folded her arms across her chest.
Reuben released his own arms when he realized she mimicked his stance. Pressing fingers to his forehead, he turned his gaze to the stacks of books. Mostly so he did not have to admire the appealing image of her stubborn chin, flashing eyes, and determined stance. Why he suddenly found an obstinate look appealing on a woman, he did not know, but there was no denying the tension coiling in his gut.
He bent to pick up one of the discarded books and leafed through it, checking for damage. “Some of these books are from the medieval era.”
“They look like they have survived. Perhaps it would be an idea to hide the ladder,” she mused. “But we cannot stop her from looking through her own books.”
He nodded. “I know.” He ran his fingers over the leather cover of the book. “I hate seeing her like this,” he admitted, the words surprising even him.
Angel put a hand to his arm, and he had to force himself to remain motionless at the unexpected touch. “She is scattered at times, but she is a content and clever woman still. I did not know your aunt before old age took its toll, but she is quite special.”
Peering at her, he struggled for a response. He’d half-expected some sort of tirade after he had scolded her for something that was not really her fault. She could not be by his aunt’s side every hour of the day, hedidunderstand that, even if he let his frustration get the better of him.
Angel saved him a response and dipped down to gather a couple of the books. “Let’s get this straightened, and then we can eat.”
“Yes.” The word came out slightly strangled. Few people surprised him. Ever. Lady Angel Templeton was something different, however. Perhaps he had misjudged her.
He paused as he collected more of the discarded books. “I have little idea which book she was looking for.”
Her smile turned wry. “I suspect she will have forgotten about it later.”
“Of course.” The words came out hollow. He was not sure he was going to enjoy these daily reminders his favorite aunt was going slowly addled.
“She likes gothic novels.” Angel waved a book at him. “If you spot any of those, keep them aside.”
Reuben blinked at her. “She does?”
Nodding, her smile grew. “We read two last night, and now I keep thinking I’m going to see ghosts at the windows or be haunted by my dead love.”
“You have a dead love?”
She laughed. “If I were in a gothic novel, I would have at least two I am certain!”
He felt the smile twitching the corner of his lips and quickly tamped it down. Despite his doubts about his first impression of her, he should remain cautious. The news from his friend in London was enough to make him wary. There was no doubt Angel was an intelligent lady with a charming manner. The chance that she was simply using his aunt existed, and there was still that uncertainty as to why she had taken on the role of lady’s companion.
Reuben climbed the ladder with a handful of books and placed them carefully back on the shelves.
“My sister would love this library,” Angel commented.
“Oh?”
“She adores books of all sort, especially older ones.” She passed up a book and their fingers brushed. A tingle sent the hairs on the back of his arms standing on end. He swallowed and focused on putting the book back carefully, but when he turned back to get the next book, he saw her flex her hand.
Damn it all, she had felt it too. What the bloody hell was going on?
“Are you close to your sister?” he asked and hoped she did not hear the strangled note to his voice. If they could just talk about light matters, maybe he would not have time to dwell on the enticing view he had of her from up on the ladder.
“In a way. We are extremely different.” She handed up several more books. “And there are a few years between us, but with two brothers, we often had to join forces.” Her lips curved. “She’s always tried her best to look after me, even if I did not wish her to.”