The Obsessions of Lord Godfrey - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,30
in admitting that home is where he wants to be?”
She laughed softly. “Exactly. I see you have a sound appreciation of the way a young man’s mind works.”
“Indeed. I was one once.” As he uttered the words, he realized how true they were, how far in his past now lay the stage of not being sure of what he wanted of life. A lot of what he wished for was already in place—with one notable exception.
He shifted in the bed. “What about your sister—Maggie?”
“Maggie, I’m not at all sure about. She keeps her own counsel.” Ellie decided it was time to turn the tables before he asked about her own path in life. She looked up and caught his eye. “You have an older half brother as well as three older siblings. Are they all married?”
He nodded. “They are.”
“And they have children?”
His face lit. “Lots. I have…” He was plainly counting. “Thirteen nephews and nieces.” He grinned fondly. “Nine nephews and four nieces, ranging in age from a babe in arms to twelve years old.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his transparent enthusiasm. “You’re clearly a besotted uncle.”
“Of course! I’m their favorite uncle—the one who always has time to play with them.”
His gaze grew distant; she studied the pleasure in his face, but then saw it fade as some other, more sobering thought took hold.
Before his mood could completely dim, she asked, “I take it you live in London?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “I have lodgings in York Street, not far from the National Gallery.”
“The very hub of the capital.” She set a careful stitch. “How do you spend your days? You can’t be studying artworks all the time.”
“Sadly, far from it.” He paused, then said, “In between my trips to assess artworks, I suppose I spend most of my time with friends and family—not just in London but all about the country.”
She raised her needle and swallowed a sigh. “That must be nice, seeing different parts of the country.” Before he could ask if she wished she could travel, she said, “Tell me of some of the places you’ve visited.”
After a second’s hesitation, he obliged.
He was an excellent raconteur and had her laughing at several of his tales. With the eye of an artist, he painted landscapes with words, well enough for her to see them in her mind, to appreciate his liking for this place or that.
The hours slipped by. She left him to consume another bowl of broth and some bread, attended by Wally, while she joined the others for luncheon downstairs. Once the meal was concluded, she made her excuses and returned upstairs, eager to hear more of his travels.
After she’d settled in her chair—the mending basket was almost empty, but she had enough left to keep her hands busy—at her request, he moved on to describing his travels on the Continent, to cities she’d heard of but had no expectation of ever seeing.
“Dresden was surprisingly comfortable and welcoming. Quite ornate, mind you, with lots of baroque decorative touches everywhere.” His eye was acute, his knowledge extensive, and his memory was capacious as well.
They whiled away the afternoon in pleasant accord. She tried to keep him occupied answering her questions, but he managed to slip in a few questions of his own, which led to a discussion of the Hall and its grounds and associated farms, and ultimately, led to a verbal excursion about the local countryside.
Eventually, Wally returned with a dinner tray, with another bowl of broth and some toast and cheese.
Godfrey sighed when he saw it and fixed her with a pleading look. “At this rate, I’ll waste away before I get better.” He opened his eyes wide. “I haven’t been coughing as much this afternoon. Can’t I graduate to real food?”
She had to admit that after spending the entire day settled in bed, he did look better. She finished folding her completed mending, then rose, approached the bed, and laid a hand over his forehead. After a moment, she lowered her hand. “Your fever has definitely reduced, but we don’t want to court a relapse. However, I’ll speak with Cook and report your progress and see what she and Mrs. Kemp think about you having more substantial fare.”
“Thank you.” His tone made the words heartfelt. His eyes met hers. “For all the hours of today. I’ve enjoyed your company, and that’s kept me from moping—I do appreciate it.”
She smiled. “I enjoyed the hours, too.” She stepped away. “I must get ready for dinner. If