"I do not mind," he murmured, his silver gaze never straying from her face. "Would you care to join me in the library?"
"Well . . ." She reluctantly turned to regard her brother as he played with the kittens.
"My housekeeper will keep a careful watch on William," he softly assured her.
She hesitated another moment, knowing how her brother could fret if she were absent, but then noting his obvious distraction and the way the housekeeper hovered protectively at his side.
She slowly turned to offer Sebastian a smile.
"Very well."
Reaching out, Sebastian firmly placed her ban upon his arm and led her from the room. In silence they wound their way through the narrow halls in the servants' quarters and up the stairs that would take them to the front of the house.
Although vibrantly aware of the man at her side, Amelia could not help but note the decided lack of ornaments upon the paneled walls and occasional tables. And she would have to be blind not to see the heavy covers that continued to hide the chairs set in the alcoves.
A smile twitched at her lips. She wondered if Sebastian even took a moment to notice his surroundings.
"Why do you smile?" he demanded.
Tilting her face upward, Amelia met the amused gaze. "I was thinking that only a bachelor could bear to live among dust sheets and barren rooms."
"I will admit it does not trouble me as long as my library is in order."
She gave a teasing click of her tongue. "Surely a man needs more in his life than books?"
The silver eyes abruptly darkened. "I have not believed so for many years."
Something in that deep, accented voice made her heart make a sudden leap. "And now?"
His smile widened. "And now a pair of dimples has made me question my simple existence."
Amelia breathed deeply of his warm, spicy scent, not at all surprised when her head swirled.
This gentleman could make any poor, susceptible maiden a bit dizzy.
"Being distracted by dimples does not seem at all scholarly."
"No?" His gaze swept over her. "Well, there are all sorts of studies. Not all of them including dusty books."
She chuckled softly, her fingers tightening upon his arm. "There may be hope for you yet, Mr.
St. Ives."
"Perhaps there is, Miss Hadwell." Slowing his steps, he turned her into the large library. "Here we are."
Her gaze swept over the beautiful room, lingering on the highly polished tables and the obvious care given to the hundreds of leather bound books.
"Not a dust sheet in sight," she murmured.
The silver eyes twinkled. "I could have one fetched if you would like."
"No, thank you," she retorted with a grimace.
The slender hand waved toward the pair of leather wing chairs that framed a heavy marble chimney piece. "Will you have a seat?"
Amelia found herself rather reluctant to loosen her hold upon him, but she at least retained enough sense to realize she could not remain gazing up at him like a moonling. Instead, she forced herself to calmly drop her hand and move toward the nearest chair.
She did halt as she noted the book that had been left on a small table beside one of the chairs.