Page 61 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
“Which makes it the perfect place for secrets,” Rexton said near her ear.
“I don’t know about that, my lord,” Mr. Durham said. “The weather will take a toll on this handiwork. It might need repairing someday. The note could be discovered then.”
“But we shall be long gone. Think of the stories that will be woven around the mysterious words left behind. Words left by lovers, perhaps.”
They were going to be lovers, soon, so very soon. “Will you write a note?” she asked. “Dare to reveal a secret to the gods of amusements?”
In acquiescence, he dipped his head slightly.
“But we shan’t look at each other’s,” she insisted. “The secrets must remain secrets.”
“I would have it no other way.”
“You can’t cheat, sneak back here and have a look.”
His devilish grin did funny things to her stomach. “On this matter, I will not cheat. We’ll place our confidences in Mr. Durham’s keeping and he’ll seal up the horse tonight, before we leave.”
She nodded, although she feared she might be proven a fool for putting to paper what she was thinking. But there was a deliciousness to it, to knowing she could put into permanence words that no one would ever see—at least during her lifetime. “All right then. I don’t see how any harm will come of it.”
“Have you something upon which we can write, Mr. Durham?” Rexton asked, moving away from her.
“Bits of foolscap over here, my lord. You can tie it off with string.”
She couldn’t help but believe Rexton had discussed all this with Mr. Durham in advance, before he’d brought her here, as everything was laid out on an exceedingly clean and organized table. After dipping pen in inkwell, she composed her note, rolled it up, and wrapped a piece of string around it to secure it. She walked over to the horse and carefully placed the revelation that caused her heart to pump wildly into the small hollow of its neck, wondering what stories might be woven around it if it were indeed discovered years hence.
Rexton dropped his contribution inside. He winked. “Did you write something naughty?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would, yes.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Pity then as I shall never tell.”
“Aren’t you curious about what I wrote?”
More than she’d ever admit. “Not particularly.”
He leaned in. “Little liar.” Then he watched her as though searching for something. “Mr. Durham, would it be possible to give my lady a ride on your carousel while you’re sealing up our secrets?”
“Absolutely, my lord.”
She knew her eyes widened. “The roundabout works?”
“It does. He keeps it as an example of his craftsmanship.” This time instead of offering his arm, he closed his hand around hers. “Come along. His is only horses, but each one is different. You can select the one you like best.”
She chose a white prancing horse with a red rose carved into its bridle. Rexton lifted her onto it so she was sitting almost sidesaddle. Clutching the pole, she noticed the gears overhead beneath the canopy. “That’s elaborate.”
“I suspect you’ve never ridden on one quite like this. Mr. Durham enjoys tinkering.”
The man to whom he’d alluded emerged through a door from what appeared to be a small room in the center of the contraption. “Ready, my lord?”
“Yes, Mr. Durham.”
“Aren’t you going to get on a horse?” she asked Rexton.
“Places too much distance between us.”
Mr. Durham disappeared inside. The roundabout gave a jerk before slowly starting to move. He came out, dashed over the platform, and leaped to the floor. “It’ll go until it runs out of steam.”
