Page 19 of The Earl's Secret
“Yes, but what would that say about our family if we began to sell off all our belongings, that have been collected by our ancestors for centuries? He and Mother would like to retain our reputation. There are already enough reasons for people to talk, between Father and my own past.”
“Our past.”
She jerked her head up at him at that comment. “No one knows of your part in it.”
“I do.”
“Very well.Ourpast. If it became well known that we could no longer afford to keep our art collections? Mother would be beside herself. Although Gideon has said that if it comes to it, he knows what’s here. I’m sure he has a detailed list of all of the items somewhere.”
“He is rather organized,” Devon said with a half-grin.
“That is something of an understatement.”
“Well, I would suggest, then, we start by looking through all of the statues ourselves. We can make our own list and compare it to his.”
“Very well,” she said.
“What’s this, now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is Cassandra Sutcliffe actually agreeing with me?”
“The impossible does occur now and again,” she said, moving away from him before this exchange became overly friendly. They worked in companionable silence for a while, each of them moving from one side to the other until they met in the middle. The room was awash with covers all over the floor, the statues staring at them mockingly as though daring them to try to discover the secrets they held.
Cassandra looked back at them with hands on her hips. “I wish they could share with us all that they have seen and hidden over the years,” she said to Devon, who was coming up behind her.
“Perhaps they will, in their own way,” he said. “I’ll go find paper and pen, and then I can read you each of the statue names for you to record, if you’d like.”
She nodded. “That will work.”
He returned shortly, catching her looking closely at the inscriptions in each statue. Most were written in Greek, but perhaps he could help identify each.
“Here you are,” he said, passing her the paper and pen. “I’ll begin on this side.”
She was about to walk away when he reached out and caught her arm in his hand. “One moment.” He lifted a hand to her face, and Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. What was he going to— he swiped his thumb over her forehead. “You had some dust,” he said, his voice slightly harsh. “Gone.”
“Th-thank you,” she said, looking up at him. His face was just inches from hers, and she couldn’t seem to move away. She was caught by the intensity of his dark gaze, his brown eyes exploring hers as though by doing so he could read all of her thoughts.
She couldn’t help but drop her stare to his lips. Would it do any harm if they were to share this moment, with one more kiss? It could mean nothing, and, if she remembered correctly – how could she not – he was a most excellent kisser. She parted her lips, her tongue darting out and licking them as she waited for his face to descend.
But instead, he released her abruptly and backed away so quickly that he bumped into a statue behind him. It tottered, and he whirled around, catching it just before it went crashing to the ground.
“That was close,” Cassandra said dryly, both of them aware she was referring to more than just the statue.
“I have quick hands,” he said, and she just nodded as she turned away, with an “mm hmm,” before she walked over to sit in one of the chairs that lined the walls. It was slightly dusty itself, and she wondered if anyone ever came in to clean this room. She supposed with the lack of servants, it made sense that they would ignore a room that was so seldom used.
Devon had thoughtfully brought her a book to set the paper upon, and Cassandra couldn’t help the laugh that emerged when she saw just which book it was.
“An Enquiry Into the Duties of the Female Sex.”
“Yes,” he said. “Since you are apparently so familiar with this one, it seemed rather appropriate.”
“I hate to ask how long it took you to search for this.”
“Not overly long, actually,” he said, laughter in his voice. “It was sitting out on the library table. Your mother must have left it for you.”
“Of course she did,” Cassandra said, sobering somewhat. She loved her mother, truly she did, but she wished that she didn’t have such doubt in her. “One indiscretion, and I am forever considered disobedient.”
“You do drink brandy and read romance novels of which your mother would never approve,” he unhelpfully pointed out, and Cassandra lifted her chin.
“So do my friends.”
