With luck, Evelyn would never know what hit her.
* * *
“Your cook is excellent,” said Joseph, as they finished the dessert.
“Thank you. She has been with me almost as long as the Thompsons. She knows what I like almost more than I. Although I must say there are times when she still thinks I am a young girl. On more than one occasion, she has sent my plate back from the kitchen when she feels I have not eaten enough.”
“It sounds like your servants are your family.”
“They are in many ways. My mother died when I was six. Unfortunately, I have few recollections of her. Sometimes I smell her perfume and it will take me back to dim memories of being held and playing in the nursery. I remember the love, if that makes sense. I remember being loved and loving her very much.”
“Then in that way you are fortunate.”
“What of your parents?”
He hesitated for a moment, but he could not tell her that story. Not now after a good dinner and pleasant conversation. Perhaps not ever. “That is a story for another day. What of your father? He passed away shortly after your come-out?”
“Yes. He was a very good man. An excellent landlord. His tenants liked him very much. He was an important man in the county, both for his contributions to charity and his willingness to act as the go-between with the farmers and the local gentry.”
“Yet your father outranked the gentry.”
“He did. He was respectful of the title – he said he owed it to his ancestors who’d no doubt had to do unpleasant tasks to impress whatever King had bestowed the earldom. But he believed no man was better than another simply because he’d been born with a title. And no man was inferior simply because he had to do back-breaking labor every day.”
“He sounds like a radical.”
“He was,” said Evelyn proudly. “I don’t think it made him any friends in the House of Lords. But he got along well with the old Duke of Lynwood.”
“Is that why you stay in the country? To continue your father’s work?”
“Partly. The local gentry doesn’t always look after the concerns of the community all that well,” she said carefully. “It’s not that they have malicious intent. It’s just that they get caught up in their own power and aren’t always considerate of those who don’t have any.”
“Are you talking about young Kensington’s father?”
“He and some others. They’re not bad men, just not forward thinkers. And if it were up to them, they would sell the entire county to the mining concerns.”
“Why don’t they sell their own land?”
“They tried. The company wasn’t interested because their holdings were too small. It was an all or nothing situation. They’ve made it clear that if they do not get my land, they will have none in the county.”
“Have they pressured you?” If they had, they would soon regret it.
She shook her head. “They have just been patronizing. I’ve been told I shouldn’t worry about business because it is no concern for a lady. I should just entrust my affairs to them and they will make the right choices.”
“But you won’t.”
“I’m a lady, not an idiot. Would you care to retire to the library with me for port?”
“It would be my pleasure.” He rose, then pulled back Evelyn’s chair. He did not miss the shiver that went through her when his fingers brushed against her shoulders.
And he did not miss his own reaction, either.
He followed her into the library, then for the first time since entering her house, his attention was drawn to something other than his hostess.
“It is magnificent.” He looked at the floor-to-ceiling shelves, filled with books. “How many are there?”
“I am ashamed to say I do not know. I have not read all of them yet. And I am continually adding to the collection. Some women have a weakness for bonnets. I cannot be happy unless I have the latest novel. Though you will not find just frivolous works here,” she quickly added. “There are tomes on the sciences, philosophy and mathematics. And I have spent many an hour in the history section.”
Joseph walked to the shelves and reverently touched a volume. “Your family must have been collecting for generations.”
“Yes. It is another reason I seldom go to London. I do not have my own house and the current earl’s library is not well stocked.”
“There are lending libraries that are not as well stocked as this. My own library would fit into a small section of yours, though I add to it whenever I can.”
“And what do you read?”
“Anything I can get my hands on. Though, I confess I have a fondness for novels myself.”
“Never say so!” said Evelyn with a smile. “Do not tell me the fearsome Bow Street Inspector likes his gothic romances.”
He grinned. “My taste runs more toward novels like Precaution by James Fenimore Cooper. I confess to a fascination with America, both its land and the people.”
“They are a very egalitarian lot, are they not? The spirit of its people seems to match the wilderness of its lands.”
“Hal Kellington married an American from Philadelphia. I would one day like to see it and New York City, too. Perhaps even travel to the Kentucky frontier.”
“What is stopping you?”
He turned to look at her. It had been a long time since anyone had expressed an interest in his life. Truth be told, his work had become his life. At times even he could not make the distinction.
“I do not know why I don’t take the trip. I have the funds to do so. Perhaps, I am not a person who goes on holiday.”
“Perhaps you haven’t found the right person to travel with.”
“Perhaps not.”
But what he wouldn’t give to travel with Evelyn. To go to egalitarian America, where no one would care that she was a lady and he a bastard thief taker. To walk arm-in-arm with her down the street, seeing the sights, without worry that someone would accuse him of reaching beyond his station. Or, even worse, giving her the cut direct. It was a wonderful fantasy.
But not real.
“I have offered you port, Inspector. But now I would like to know if you will join me in one of my favorite activities.”
Oh, if it were only one of his favorite activities – making love before the fire.
She stepped closer to him. “On winter nights such as this, I like nothing more than to sit before the fire and read.”
As it happened, that was also one of his favorite activities, though it paled in comparison to the other one. But for tonight it would have to do.
“Please, Inspector, select whatever you’d like. I have a book I am in the middle of, but I hope you can find something that interests you.”
“If I cannot find something of interest in the selection before me, take my gun and shoot me. I confess that in renovating my house the first room I finished was the library.”
“Perhaps I can see it when we journey to London.”
He would like that more than anything. He pulled a book from the shelves.
“What have you chosen, Inspector?”
“Please call me Joseph. Unless you think it would be improper.”
“I believe it would be nothing of the sort. As long as you call me Evelyn.”
“Perhaps when we are alone, but never in company.”
“If that is the only concession I shall get from you, then I must accept it – for now. What is your selection?”
Joseph looked at the volume in his hand, not having remembered reaching for it. The woman robbed his senses. How was he supposed to read when she was in the same room, smelling like a spring day and looking as beautiful as an angel? “It is a collection of the journal entries from the American explorers Meriwether Lewis and William Clark.” Thankfully his selection didn’t make him sound like an imbecile.
She placed his port on a table near the wing chair opposite hers in front of the fire. She poured a glass of wine for herself, then kicked
off her slippers and pulled her feet up beneath her before almost immediately becoming engrossed in her book.
Joseph settled into the comfortable chair, then spent ten minutes thinking about her shoeless feet and the very neat way she was curled up. Then he turned the page, lest she think he was the slowest reader in England. He stole a glance at her and saw that she was enraptured by whatever she was reading. In the guise of taking a sip of his port, he leaned forward to see what had so fully captured her imagination.
It was a book on the agricultural practices of central England.
He knew he should not be insulted that she would rather read about farms than talk to him. But, damn it, he had a real interest in Lewis and Clark’s journals, yet he wished the entire expedition to perdition because he would rather be talking to Evelyn than reading a book in her presence.
Which was odd, since he loved reading.
He did not want to consider what that meant.
* * *
Evelyn made a note of which page she started on because while she continued turning pages at a regular rate, she was not comprehending any part of her book. How could she? It was a large room, yet Joseph seemed to fill every inch of it. His scent, which was a masculine blend of shaving soap and leather, teased her senses. And the way he held his port made her jealous of a glass.
A glass. She was jealous of a glass.
He’d said he liked reading. So did she. She thought that if she showed him her library and let him engage in his favorite activity, he might have a more favorable impression of life in the country. For it had not escaped her notice that of all the gentlemen she’d considered marrying, none interested her like Joseph Stapleton.
He was not of her world in the most superficial sense. And she knew enough of the ton to realize she would be cut from society if she married him. But, quite frankly, if her choice was to marry any of the socially acceptable men she’d met or wed Joseph, she would quite happily make a life with the man from Bow Street.
But that was another consideration. If – and this was a very big if – if he had feelings for her and if – another big if – he could be persuaded to not have a care for her lost place in society, would he be willing to give up his life’s work? She knew it was unfair to ask it of him. But she was not at all sure she could marry someone who risked his life every time he left for work.
However, it was all a fantasy because she could not imagine him living happily in the country. To a man who’d devoted himself to protecting others, her existence in Caversham must seem quite boring. She must seem quite boring. She had none of the wiles of the ladies of London. She did not know how to flirt. She did not think she would care to learn. She was very straightforward and could not imagine simpering or hiding her feelings.
But Joseph likely had women falling at his feet constantly. Ladies of the ton might not want to marry him, but she knew enough about society to realize there would be no shortage of women anxious to share his bed. And his neighbors in Cheapside would surely want to have such a heroic man as their son-in-law.
What hope did she have of convincing him to give up his life and join her in the country?
What right did she have to even ask?
“Is there something amiss?” he asked.
Many things, but nothing she could share with him. “Excuse me?”
“Well, you seem to be….looking at me. Is something the matter?”
Good Lord, she’d been caught staring. “No, forgive me. I was just woolgathering.”
“Is your book not holding your attention? I would think agricultural practices in central England would be a fascinating subject.” His marvelous mouth curved into a smile.
“I believe, sir, that you are bamming me.”
“Perhaps a little.”
“What of Lewis and Clark? Is their journal as interesting as you thought it would be?”
“Most assuredly so. Lewis writes quite…brilliantly….about the…things they saw.”
“What kinds of things?”
He looked oddly bereft of an answer. “Indian tribes. Animals. America.”
“I see.” From his hesitancy it appeared he had paid attention to his book the same amount as she had to hers. “Do you have a favorite passage you have read so far?”
“It is all equally good. But I would like you to read the most interesting section you have come across so far.”
Drat. “I believe it is a subject not suitable for mixed company.”
“Farming?” He sounded like he was not quite convinced.
“Animal husbandry.”
That wiped the smirk off his face.
“Would you like some more port, Joseph?”
“No thank you….Evelyn. Do you spend many evenings like this?”
“Yes. Especially in the winter. How do you spend your evenings? I imagine there are any number of entertainments in London.” And how she hated to think of him taking advantage of the most salacious ones.
“I get called in to work on cases from time to time. I have enough seniority that I do not have to work nights as a rule. But, as you might imagine, it is the time of day when crimes are most likely to occur. If I am not rousted from bed because of work, I sometimes dine with friends. Occasionally, I attend the opera or theater. But I like to end the day just like this. With a book and a glass of port or brandy. Though when I read, I do not have the pleasure of having a lovely lady reading beside me.”
“Why not?” She was becoming altogether too bold for her own good.
“I am not married,” he said carefully.
“Why do you not have a wife? Surely it is not for lack of opportunity.”
“I suppose it is for many of the same reasons you do not have a husband. I have not found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. But in my case, there is another reason. I would not want to subject my wife to the world in which I live professionally. When you see the very worst of humanity on a day-to-day basis, it takes a toll. I would not want her to take on that burden when I returned home.”
“But is that not a wife’s role? To help her husband in any way possible?”
“I fear it is too much to ask.”
“And you would wish to continue on with your career?”
“I fear I am suited for little else.”
And so there it was. He would never leave Bow Street. Never leave London.
He studied her for a moment, but did not say anything, though it looked like he would surely like to. Finally, he rose. “I should lock up the house.”
“I am sure Thompson has already done so.”
“Nevertheless, I will not be able to sleep if I do not see to it myself.”
“Thank you for doing this. All of it. I shall never forget your kindness.” She pulled on her slippers and rose from the chair. In one daring moment, she rose up and kissed Joseph on the cheek. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to let me know.”
She left the library because if she stayed she would go back for more than a kiss on the cheek.
CHAPTER NINE
Professor Dodson was, in Joseph’s mind, annoyingly prompt when he called on Evelyn the next day at eleven of the clock. It did not help matters that Joseph had slept quite poorly, despite the comfort of the bed. Knowing Evelyn was in the next bedchamber had been torment. He was, therefore, not in the best of moods when the man showed up for their outing.
The professor was not a tall man, about an inch shorter than Evelyn, which meant Joseph towered over him. He was a man in his late-thirties and was beginning to go soft about the middle and bald on top.
He arrived on horseback, having made the journey from the university in good time. He dismounted and greeted Evelyn with a warm smile. “My dear, how good it is to see you.” Be bowed over her hand, lingering to a point where he was in danger of getting his ears boxed by Joseph.
“Mr. Dodson, welcome,” said Evelyn, subtly extricating her hand. “Might I present Inspector Joseph Stapleton?”
�
�An Inspector? As in Bow Street?” asked Dodson. “I do hope nothing is wrong.”
“Not as such,” said Evelyn. “But he is a friend of the Duke of Lynwood’s and has come to the country to look into a few matters.”
“Well, we certainly don’t want to keep you, Stimpleton, when you have tasks to do.”
“Actually, Inspector Stapleton will be accompanying us,” said Evelyn.
“Whyever for?”
“I told him I would show him the countryside. And he is his grace’s guest, after all.”
Dodson frowned. “Is Lynwood in residence? I had not heard he would be here.”
“No,” said Evelyn. “But Inspector Stapleton is still his guest and he will be accompanying us today.”
“Are you in trouble, my dear?” asked Dodson. “Is there any way I can be of assistance? As you can see, I have my valise with me. I could easily stay here instead of the inn tonight. I hadn’t planned on riding back to the university until the morning. So it would be no inconvenience to me at all.”
“No,” said Joseph, before Evelyn had the chance to answer. “Lady Evelyn won’t need your services. Perhaps you might want to take your things to the inn now, to ensure there is room tonight.”
“But, I really do not mind staying here,” protested Dodson.
“Thank you, sir,” said Evelyn. “But the inn is a good one. I am sure you will be most comfortable.”
“As you wish, Evelyn,” Dodson said, looking anything but pleased. “Thompson, check me into the inn and see to my things.” He tossed his valise in the butler’s general direction.
Stapleton caught the look Thompson gave Dodson behind his back. It was not a friendly one.
“Of course, sir,” said Thompson. He motioned for a footman. “Harris, take Professor Dodson’s things to the inn for tonight. Professor, should they charge this to your account or will you pay when you check out?”
“Thompson,” admonished Dodson. “It is never good form to speak of financial matters in front of a lady.”
“I understand, sir. Will you be paying when you check out or shall we tell them to bill it to your home?”
Never Turn Away (Kellington Book Six) Page 7
