The Cheer in Charming an Earl(23)
He took two steps toward her. His pale waistcoat shined in the low light emitting from the lamps set about the room. “Several thousand. My uncle was a dogged collector of the written word. I am sorry to say I am nothing like him.”
Elinor pursed her lips at this disappointing revelation. What a waste of a handsome man, if he didn’t read.
Aunt Millie gave her a pointed look. Say something encouraging.
Elinor did her best to look less aggrieved. She’d wanted to know him better, hadn’t she? The good and the bad. “We cannot all enjoy expanding our mind, I suppose.”
He puffed his chest a bit. “But I didn’t say that, did I? While I do find reading tedious, I happen to be an enthusiast of debate. There are several existentially minded salons in London that I attend regularly.”
“Why go there?” Elinor fired, smiling at her cleverness in luring him into a discussion of reason.
“Why be anywhere?” he quipped back. “Where are we at any moment?”
She grinned. “Not the drawing room, I see. And Aunt Millie did so desperately wish to see it, after all of my stories.”
He smiled back self-deprecatingly. “There is more to me than what you’ve decided, Miss Conley. Now, over there you’ll find sentimental novels, though nothing recent, I’m afraid. You may, of course, borrow anything you like.” A slight frown marred his brow, casting a pall on his previous banter.
She wanted to wipe his sadness away. If only she knew what had provoked it! “What if I prefer the classics? In Latin?”
The shadow ebbed, as if she’d succeeded in diverting him. “Then I shall consider you a very accomplished young woman.”
She laughed and skipped toward his bookcase of sentimental novels. “It’s my turn to disappoint you, my lord. I never was good at conjugating.”
“Nor was my sister.”
She froze. This was the source of his melancholy. She knew it as surely as if he’d said it. These dusty novels must have belonged to his sister. Elinor tried to search the gilt-lettered spines for titles she recognized, but all that swam before her was the ethereal specter of a pretty little girl. A cherished sister. Had Lady Hannah read them all? Which one was her favorite?
Very carefully, Elinor reached for the first volume in front of her. Aunt Millie had gone quiet almost from the start, but even her breathing seemed to have paused.
“Was,” Elinor said to Lord Chelford, as he’d said to her about her late father. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
His footfalls dropped in a slow, wide circle around the room. “Thank you, but I’m quite glad you reminded me. It’s distressing to think that I’d almost forgotten how much she detested Latin.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I used to sneak the correct answers to her before the weekly exam was administered. Poor old George. It never occurred to our tutor that I still had my papers, seven years later. He never could discern how someone as dreadful at conjugation as my sister managed to earn firsts.”
“My sister would have given me the wrong answers,” Aunt Millie said. Her tone held no pity, a fact Lord Chelford acknowledged with a grateful smile.
Elinor followed her lead. “And my brother would have rapped my knuckles with a switch, after he gave me the wrong answers.”
Lord Chelford smiled and clasped his arms behind his back. “Did you choose a book? Unless you like card games, I’ve not much to offer you ladies in the way of after dinner entertainment.”
Elinor glanced at the leather-bound novel in her hand. One she’d read twice, but never mind that. It wasn’t as though she’d be able to concentrate while he sat in the same room, anyway.
Before she could speak, however, Aunt Millie cut in. “Cards? We can have none of that, my lord. When I play at cards, I crave a fine cheroot, and when I smoke cheroots, I gamble. You shan’t have a penny out of me, not tonight.” She twirled in a circle as if searching the bookcases for something in particular. “Where are your plays?”
He pointed at a crowded shelf to their right. “Will you perform for us, ma’am? I should like that a sight more than staring at Miss Conley while she reads her book.” He glanced at Elinor. “Not that I would mind doing so.”
A flush raced up her neck. Even her ears blazed hot. Particularly when he held her gaze behind her aunt’s back.
What did he mean?
“Chelford.” All three turned in the direction of the doorway.
Lord de Winter didn’t quite smile; he never quite smiled. “I promised Smithers I’d call you to dinner. But before you make haste, tell me, who is this goddess who deigns to join us tonight?” He made a show of beholding her aunt.