When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,41

soon see for yourself.”

“For the first time, I can actually believe that.”

He ushered her through a doorway and into a high-ceilinged chamber. Numerous rows of shelves along the walls housed more volumes than she’d imagined existed in the world. Yet for all its vast size, the room had a cozy ambience with a fire burning on the marble hearth and several candelabra to lend a soft gleam of light to the scene. Gold-cushioned chairs provided places where one could curl up and enjoy a good story. Even the air held the pleasant perfume of leather bindings and old paper.

Her hands clasped to her bosom, she spun toward Carlin. “Why, there must be hundreds upon hundreds of books here.”

“Some four thousand, I believe. There’s another twenty or so thousand at Greyfriars. The library runs the entire length of the house. You’ll see it soon when we go there.”

The prospect of visiting his ducal estate appealed strongly to Tessa. Yet what if she’d located her father by then? What if she’d left the duke’s employ?

She buried an odd pang of regret. “I can’t begin to imagine such a treasure trove. What you have right here is quite staggering enough. Have you read all these books?”

“Hardly. Several of my predecessors were bibliophiles. It took over a century for them to assemble this collection.”

Her gaze swept the shelves again. Deep in her soul, she hungered to absorb all the knowledge in these works, for they were a stark reminder of her woeful lack of an education. “If it were me, I would devote my life to reading every one of them. Don’t you want to do so?”

He chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that wrapped around her senses. “Have patience, I’ve only just inherited them. Although you’ll be happy to know that when I spent my holidays here as a boy, I could often be found reading Robinson Crusoe or Gulliver’s Travels.”

When he regarded her like that, his strong features relaxed in a smile, it caused a lurch in her heartbeat. He seemed to relish her delight in the library, yet she sensed something quizzical, too, as if he found her reaction unusual. Perhaps a proper governess would have recognized those titles.

“Well, I confess to be overwhelmed by the sheer number of selections here, Your Grace. I only hope you can direct me to where I might find a book on heraldry.”

“Debrett’s Peerage may include coats of arms. There ought to be a copy around here somewhere.” As they strolled over the fine carpet, he tossed the notebook onto a table. Then he took her candlestick and set it down as well. “By the way, there’s no need to Your Grace me so much. It makes me feel like a doddering old man.”

“How else am I to address you?”

“My friends and family call me Guy.” He aimed one of those darkly intense looks at her. “Though I suppose Carlin will do.”

Her heart fluttered a warning. She might not be versed in all the rules of society but being on first-name terms with her employer implied intimacy. She could only imagine how aghast Lady Victor would be. Not to mention the other servants.

“Thank you, Carlin.” That name at least didn’t seem so peculiar since she’d already been thinking of him as such in her mind.

They reached the far end of the library, where the duke held up his lamp to dispel the shadows. His attention half on the books, he cast a droll glance her way. “Now you have the better of me, Miss James. You know my first name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Tessa. Tessa James.”

“Tessa … a very pretty name. It suits you.” His deep voice was like a caress drifting over her skin. “Is it short for Teresa?”

Swallowing, she shook her head. “Not to my knowledge.” Unwilling to admit to an ignorance of what was written on her baptismal record, she said rather quickly, “What makes you think the book is right here?”

“The library is organized into sections. This is where the dictionaries and references are kept, and Debrett’s is a sort of encyclopedia of the nobility. But I don’t see it, so perhaps we should try British history.”

Tessa followed him to the opposite corner of the library, where he scanned the books on several shelves. She peered past his broad shoulder, spotting titles like A Biography of Illustrious British Statesmen and Smollett’s History of England. Even such weighty tomes called to her like a new world waiting to be explored. She glided