Page 41 of Earl for the Summer
“If a stop in Berkshire means we can decamp from London early, then let us do that.” Daphne nodded, her mind made up. “The sooner the better.”
Two dayslater
Cassian strolled the library at Hillcrest, noting that Julian still maintained all the finely bound volumes of poetry,Shakespeare, and history that he’d favored, but he’d added new books too, particularly novels published in the last few years.
He’d loved escaping into books a child, but now, as he traced his gaze across row after row of volumes, his only thought was to wonder what Daphne would favor.
There’d been a volume on the floor of the Harringtons’ library the night he’d interrupted Moreland’s attempt to corner her. A Dickens novel. Did she like Dickens, or was it just something she’d taken down to distract her?
He traced a finger over the shelf of books and found a few of Dickens’s novels.
Despite every intention to put her from his mind, she was there whether he liked it or not.
Daydreams bloomed in his head—reading with her, reading to her, listening to her read to him. Venturing to bookshops together and buying whatever caught her eye. Then a hazier thought, the most tantalizing of all—returning with her to a home they shared, filling their bookshelves with volumes they intended to read together.
He wanted it. For the first time in his life, he could admit that wanted a place to call home that wasn’t simply the familiar confines of his quarters on a ship or the solitude of a Scottish hunting lodge. In truth, it wasn’t the place itself that mattered. What he truly wanted were endless days spent with her.
“You should shave,” Julian opined from the library threshold.
Cassian scrubbed a hand across stubbled jaw. “Why?” The only company he kept was with Julian’s.
“We’re dressing for dinner tonight. If you’ve no white tie ensemble, borrow one of mine.”
At Cassian’s frown, Julian smiled.
“Guests for dinner,” his twin said with a wink.
Cassian groaned. “What guests?”
Julian lifted a hand from his crutch and waved it at him. “Ready yourself, and you’ll soon find out.”
An hour later, Cassian had washed, shaved, and donned Julian’s clothes. All that remained was his bow tie, and Julian’s valet stood before him, no doubt doing a perfect job of tying one.
“Have the guests arrived?” he asked the fastidious man in his brother’s employ.
“Indeed, sir.”
“Do you know their names?”
Norris flicked his gaze up to Cassian’s. “The Duke and Duchess of Edgerton and their family, sir.”
The valet finished with Cassian’s tie and stepped back. “May I assist you with anything else, Captain Rourke?”
“Where are they now?” Cassian managed, though all the air had drained from his lungs.
Norris glanced at the mantel clock. “At this hour, I suspect the guests have begun gathering in the drawing room to await dinner service, sir.” With that, the servant bowed, then left Cassian’s room.
Cassian stayed rooted to the spot where he stood, remonstrating with himself to snuff out the ember of hope that he could feel burning in his chest. But it was there—fierce and unquenchable and urging him to move.
He rushed downstairs, reminding himself to breathe.
Voices carried from the drawing room. His heart—that wild, willful organ—had lodged itself in his throat. He swallowed hard and started toward the drawing room.
“Wait.”
Back stiffening, he turned at the sound of Daphne’s voice. She stood in the shadows beyond the staircase, waving him toward her.
He smiled. He couldn’t stop himself. The sight of her was like seeing the sun again after days of storm clouds.
