Page 90 of The Duke and the Lady in Red
“Indeed. It was my favorite place to sneak about when I was a lad. Go on in.”
With a deep breath, Harry stepped inside as though he thought the small room would transport him somewhere. In a way, perhaps it did. He touched the black metal railing with wonder, released what might have been a muted laugh. He peered over at Avendale. “May I go up?”
Damnation, he hadn’t considered that Harry would make that request. He should have merely said the balcony was ornamental. “I was given to understand that you have difficulty traversing stairs.”
Disappointment dimmed the sparkle in Harry’s eyes. “I’m awkward and slow.”
“Is that all?” Avendale asked. “I’ve no pressing appointments. Have you?”
Rose stood in the library doorway, quiet as a dormouse, and watched as her brother explored the balcony while Avendale patiently answered his questions. From time to time their laughter rolled out through the room, causing tears to prick her eyes.
She’d awoken in a lethargic haze to discover Avendale absent from the bed, and so she’d gone in search of him, assuming he would be in his library. She’d not expected the sight that greeted her.
They were an odd pairing—the handsome duke and her misshapen brother—but to see them together, a friendship forming, caused a tightness in her chest that might prevent her from ever being able to inhale a deep breath again. It was so obvious that Harry adored Avendale, that Avendale was the older brother he’d never possessed.
Avendale’s kindness ... she’d not anticipated it. She’d expected him to be tolerant. She hadn’t thought he would embrace Harry as he had. Although in spite of Harry’s imperfections, he possessed the ability to charm when given the opportunity. The problem was that so few gave him the chance. Far too many judged him by his appearance and went no further.
Although the same could be said of her: men saw her bosom and assumed it comprised the whole of her. Except Avendale hadn’t.
As he pulled down a large book, set it on a small table, and opened it, he was a danger to her heart. Pointing to something, he turned aside, spoke, and Harry moved in to look at whatever was displayed on the page. Even from this distance she could see the surprise cross his features before he laughed.
With a broad masculine smile that conveyed a secret shared between men, Avendale clapped him on the shoulder. Harry looked up—
“Rose!” His delight at spying her was evident in his expression. She rather wished he hadn’t spotted her. Standing there for days watching them would have pleased her more.
Harry limped to the railing and her breath caught with the possibility of him toppling over it. “Careful, sweeting!”
“There’s a hidden staircase,” he called down, and pointed. “Come up it.”
She saw it then, the shelves that were a door slightly ajar. Harry would have loved discovering the hidden alcove, exploring it. She was grateful to Avendale for sharing it with her brother.
Traversing up the winding spiral stairs, experiencing a sense of vertigo and dizziness, she was amazed that Harry had handled them. At the top, Avendale was waiting for her.
“I fear your brother has decided this is his favorite part of the residence,” he said, wrapping his warm fingers around hers and leading her onto the balcony. Their footsteps echoed hollowly around them as the cavernous ceiling reflected the sounds.
“I daresay I can hardly blame him.”
“Look at it all, Rose,” Harry said as she joined him. “Some of these are extremely old books. Ancient. They smell different than the ones below.”
He would notice. He was aware of so many subtleties. “They do, don’t they?”
She saw the table was now empty. “What of the book Avendale was sharing with you?”
Harry blushed; Avendale cleared his throat before leveling his hooded gaze on her. “Just a bit of naughtiness. I’ll show you later if you like.”
“Are you corrupting my brother?”
“Absolutely.”
Unable to help herself, she laughed. There was no contrition whatsoever in his manner. She’d tried so hard to shelter Harry. Had she done him a disservice? He was a young man, with a young man’s curiosities. In that regard, Avendale would no doubt serve as the perfect tutor.
“Perhaps I should leave you to it,” she said.
Harry’s eyes widened with surprise, while Avendale merely gave her a devilish grin. “I believe we’re finished for tonight. Harry tells me you often read to him. Perhaps you would do so now.”
They settled into a very cozy corner of the balcony, near the windows. The chairs were large and plush, perfect for curling in, although Rose was the only one to take advantage of that aspect. Harry leaned forward, ever alert, while Avendale lounged back.
After peering over at Avendale, Harry struck the same pose as much as he was able, and Rose’s heart twisted. She was remarkably glad that Avendale had suggested they bring Harry here.
