Page 29 of Duke of Emeralds
Once the women had taken their leave, Hester’s mind danced with ideas about what gifts to offer the children. She summoned the housekeeper, hoping to glean some insight. After all, two heads were better than one, even if Mrs. Smith’s demeanor was often uninviting.
“You called, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said as she entered, her face blank.
“Yes, I would like to discuss a matter with you regarding the orphanage in the village. Please sit.”
The woman’s expression immediately softened, and she sat in the seat Hester gestured toward. “The orphanage is doing well thanks to His Grace’s generosity, but he is a very busy man, and we feel reluctant to bring somethings to his attention.”
“Like what?” Hester asked.
“The immaterial, Your Grace. The presence of a caring soul.”
Hester nodded, but she did not speak immediately as she contemplated.
“I would like to embroider something though I cannot quite decide what,” she mused after a moment.
“Perhaps some blankets would be fitting, Your Grace,” Mrs. Smith suggested, her tone surprisingly gentle.
“Blankets! Why did I not think of that?” Hester exclaimed. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile flicker across Mrs. Smith’s face.
“We could procure the blankets, and you could adorn them as you see fit to make them more presentable, Your Grace,” the housekeeper proposed once more.
Hester felt a swell of gratitude for her advice. Blankets were practical, indeed. She could also embroider handkerchiefs for the girls, and perhaps even for the boys as well. They settled on a day to visit the markets and select the necessary supplies.
After her meeting with Mrs. Smith, Hester wandered through the grand halls of the castle, her thoughts still occupied with the children. She soon found herself in the library, a vast expanse of bookshelves and rich mahogany furniture. As beautiful as it was, she felt it lacked a certain liveliness.
Perhaps a few adjustments, as she had done in her office, could breathe new life into the room. She began to examine the shelves closely when her gaze fell upon a collection of the most scandalous volumes she had ever encountered. The illustrations within were bold and audacious, leaving little to the imagination.
Hester’s cheeks burned as her curiosity urged her to flip through the pages. “Goodness gracious, does Thomas read these?” she muttered to herself, astonished.
“What do I read?” came Thomas’s voice from behind her, causing her to jump and swiftly hide the book behind her back.
“Oh, nothing in particular,” she stammered, her heart racing. “I was merely admiring the sheer number of books in this room and pondering if you’ve read them all.”
A light chuckle escaped him as he stepped closer, his expression shifting in a way she couldn’t quite decipher. “To have read all the tomes in here would imply I’ve led a rather solitary existence, Hester.”
“Right,” she replied, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.
“Besides, I do not read, Hester,” he continued, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“No? Not at all?” she asked, feigning surprise.
“Not unless those volumes are ledgers and accounts that help organize my finances and perhaps increase them,” he replied, a playful glint in his gaze.
“My, what a shrewd merchant you prove,” Hester teased, her laughter lilting through the dusky chamber.
“I bear the care of some hundreds beneath my charge, Hester,” he replied, his expression sobering as if his responsibilities pressed down upon him like a heavy cloak.
“With you at the very helm of it all,” he added, sliding a finger beneath her chin and lifting her gaze until her eyes met his.
She felt a flutter of disquiet. At his forefront she stood—yet in truth she was but another duty to be tended. A faint shadow passed across her heart, and a strange longing ignited within her—if only he could see her as more than merely another obligation.
She blinked. What manner of thought was that, and what would such a shift mean for her? For the carefully constructed rules she had so diligently maintained?Dangerous currents stir here,warned the cautious voice in her mind.
Just as she contemplated her tumultuous thoughts, Thomas opened his mouth to speak but then halted, his gaze shifting to something on the desk behind them.
“Why, weren’t you having a fascinating read without me?” He reached behind her and plucked a book from the surface, his brows arching in playful curiosity.
Hester’s heart sank, mortification gripping her like a vice when she recognized the volume in his hands—the third book from the scandalous collection she had been perusing. The second volume still hid behind her back, and she had completely forgotten the first lay exposed on the table.
