Page 131 of Affair

Hamilton shook his head with an air of sad reproach as he shepherded everyone else through the door. “One of these days, Baxter, we really must have a chat about your lack of social polish.”

Baxter felt his face turn unpleasantly warm. “On your way out, kindly instruct Lambert to bring a tray of tea to the laboratory,” he said gruffly.

“And another discussion about your unfortunate problems with household staff,” Hamilton added over his shoulder.

Baxter waited until he heard the front door open and close before he looked at Charlotte. She gave him a quizzical smile.

“What was it you wanted, Baxter?”

He cleared his throat. Then he removed his eyeglasses and began to polish them with his handkerchief. It was easier this way, he thought. He could not see her face quite so clearly now. Perhaps without the distraction of her wonderful eyes, he would be able to marshal his arguments in a coherent fashion.

He turned on his heel and began to pace. “You may recall that two nights ago we happened to be standing together on the front steps of Morgan Judd’s mansion.”

“I am hardly likely to forget the night in question.”

“Yes, well, perhaps you do not recall precisely what you said that evening.”

“I’m sure that I said a great many things. There was much to talk about, after all. We had both had a narrow escape.”

Baxter concentrated on polishing his spectacles. “I refer to one particular sentence.”

“I see. Which sentence was that?”

“You mentioned that one of the many things that you admired in me was my style.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Yes,” she said. “The innate style of the St. Ives men. Very impressive.”

Baxter came to a halt in front of the window and put on his eyeglasses. “I wondered if, perhaps, there was anything else that you felt you could admire—” He broke off as he caught sight of the three pots on the sill. “Good God, Charlotte. The sweet peas.”

“What about them?”

“They’ve sprouted.” Euphoria rushed through him. He seized one of the small containers and turned to show her the tiny sprig of green. “Look. All three pots.”

“That’s wonderful.” She smiled at him with warm, glowing eyes. “Congratulations.”

He felt dazed. “Bloody hell. Maybe there are such things as omens and destiny. Charlotte, I may as well come straight out with it. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“Oh, Baxter.”

“I must know if you think there’s any chance that you could ever return my love?”

Her smile became glorious. Her green eyes held all the secrets of the Stone. “I think I fell in love with you the day we met.”

He stared at her, afraid that he had not heard correctly. “You’re certain?”

“I was so afraid that you did not love me.”

He set down the sweet pea pot and caught her close. “I would have thought it bloody obvious.”

“You said our liaison was inconvenient,” she reminded him.

He frowned. “It is. Damnably inconvenient. Charlotte, I know that you have no great desire to wed. If you want to go on as we have been, I shall abide by your wishes. But I would far rather have you with me on a regular basis. I want to see your face when I sit down to breakfast every morning. I want to hold you in my arms when I fall asleep at night.”

“Yes.” She raised her head from his shoulder and lifted her hands to run her fingers through his hair.

“I want to be able to show you the results of my experiments,” he continued. “I want to spend long, quiet evenings with you. I want to consult with you on your investigations. I thought I proved myself a very creditable man-of-affairs.”

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