Page 60 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
She turned her attention to Rexton. His eyes were glinting with amusement and mischief. To her mortification, she suspected he might have discerned the path her mind had traveled before they’d walked through the door, was rather certain he’d been deliberately mysterious with his answers in order to surprise her. “You’re having one built?”
“For the family estate. For my nieces and nephews to enjoy.”
“I would like to see it, yes.”
“This way then, miss, my lord.”
Rexton offered his arm. She took it, feeling as though he were escorting her through a magical place. They passed tables where blocks of wood were in various stages of carving: a head here, a body there, legs over there. She was amazed by the amount of work that each horse took to shape, assemble, paint.
“Each of his carvers specializes in some part of the animal,” Rexton said quietly.
“You’ve watched them work.”
“For hours. As I mentioned, it fascinates me to observe as a block of wood become a work of art.”
That wasn’t exactly what he’d said. Fascinated, yes, but he’d stopped there, allowing her mind to wander down wicked passageways. She adored carousels but never in a million years would she consider having one created for her personally. That he had thought to have one made for the children in his family touched her in ways that left her reeling with grand emotions she’d not felt in a good long while. What sort of man was he to give so much thought to what might bring joy to children?
As they neared some horses supported in containers, Mr. Durham said, “Watch your skirts, miss. Some of the paint is still wet.”
She didn’t care about getting paint on her clothing, but she was concerned she might ruin the fine artistry. The craftsmanship was incredible, with intricate detailing that must have taken hours to accomplish.
They reached an area where a small carousel, about half the size of the one she’d first spotted, was on display. Only two animals were positioned on the platform: a lion and a tiger. Nearby rested a bear, a giraffe, a camel.
“It’s a menagerie,” she said in awe. She’d never seen the like. Every roundabout she’d seen had included horses, some an occasional bench.
“I thought the children would grow bored if they were all ponies,” Rexton said. “A dozen animals will circle the platform when it’s completed. Mr. Durham has created a system of mechanisms so we can crank it up and it should circle around for a bit before it comes to a stop.”
“It’s a unique and wonderful gift.” She looked up at him, could see how pleased he was with the work that had been done. How unusual for a man to care so much about a child’s happiness. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy it very much.”
He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “It’s a selfish endeavor. My hope is that it will reduce the number of requests I receive for rides upon my back.”
He played with his nieces and nephews, gave them attention. She couldn’t recall any fun memories with her uncle. Before she’d grown up, he’d often repeated the adage that children were to be seen and not heard. He took it quite literally. He looked but he never held. He spoke at but never with. Her opinion and interests were never explored. “They’re very fortunate to have you as an uncle.”
“Careful, you’ll make my head swell.”
She very much doubted that. Glancing around, she saw the body of a brown horse. Nearby was the head, adorned with a bridle of delicate red roses. “Fair Vixen, I assume.”
“As close as possible.”
“Do you really deck her out in roses?”
“No, but my niece informed me I should, that it would make her feel more a lady.”
“Wise girl, your niece.”
“Mr. Durham is almost finished with her. But she requires one more thing. A secret. I thought perhaps you would do the honors.”
She furrowed her brow. “Pardon?”
“Explain to her please, Mr. Durham.”
“Aye, sir. See here, miss?”
She walked over to the body of the horse, aware of Rexton following her. Mr. Durham was pointing into the neck.
“That little hollow space remains when the head is fitted on. It’s considered good luck to leave a message inside.”
“But no one will ever see it.”
