When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,42
a fingertip down one spine, relishing the smoothness of tooled leather.
She caught Carlin watching her with that slight quirk of a smile. “If you see something of interest, feel free to borrow it. In fact, here’s one.” He walked a short distance away, hunted on a shelf, then returned to hand her a book.
She scanned the lettering imprinted on the calfskin cover and reverently touched the gold-edged pages. “Robinson Crusoe,” she murmured. “This edition looks expensive. What if I were to drop it on the floor or rip a page?”
“Better that books be read and ruined than gather dust on a shelf.” The duke gave the section one more inspection before turning toward her. “Alas, I don’t see anything on heraldry, and I can’t imagine where else to look. I’ll ask Banfield tomorrow. Since he was my grandfather’s secretary for many years, he knows this library down to the last pamphlet and treatise.”
“That’s very kind of you.” Recalling the interview when she’d first met Banfield, she added in jest, “I certainly wouldn’t wish to ask him myself after the embarrassment of having mistaken him for you.”
Carlin laughed. “To be honest, I’d as soon he was the duke. Then I’d have more time to work on my book. In fact, I was just now going through my diaries and deciding what information to use.”
Tessa stared at him, then glanced at the many notebooks that lay scattered on the table by the fire, including the one he’d fetched from the trunk in his study. The long white strip of his cravat had been tossed over the back of a nearby chair, and his shoes had been left near the hearth.
Was that why he’d come home early from the ball? To go over his journals? And why should her heart leap at the notion that there hadn’t been a lady there beautiful enough to hold his attention?
The fleeting thought vanished beneath the rise of one equally startling. “You’re truly writing a book, Carlin? One that will be published and put into libraries?”
He nodded. “It will be a scientific study of flora in the coastal areas of the world. Not comprehensive, of course, since I haven’t been everywhere. Nevertheless, I’ve an overabundance of material that must be organized and condensed.”
She studied the duke with new eyes, seeing him as more than just a privileged nobleman sailing around the globe on a whim. “Lud, I’ve never before met an author. I’m most impressed.”
His teeth flashed in a grin. “Whether the book will make for dull or lively reading remains to be seen. Perhaps you’d care to judge my paltry illustrations for yourself.”
The temptation of spending time with him was so potent that she found herself seated beside him on a chaise before her natural sense of caution could warn of any impropriety. The flicker of firelight, the radiance of candles, the stillness of the night all conspired to create an aura of warm intimacy. As she held Robinson Crusoe in her lap, Tessa felt a tingling in her veins. Perhaps it was his easy manner or the lack of a cravat that made the duke seem so approachable tonight. He was treating her not as an employee but as a friend, and she didn’t know quite what to make of it.
Well, she would only stay for a little while. She dearly wanted to see his work, after all. What harm could there be in glancing at a few sketches?
As he reached for the notebook, she was intensely aware of his masculine presence, the long fingers with their blunt nails and the stark white of his linen cuff against his sun-burnished skin. Everything about him called to her senses and hastened her heartbeat. With effort, she doused the dangerous fire of attraction and concentrated on the superb drawings of flowers and plants that he began to show her. There were pictures of birds and animals, as well. Under each one, he had penned a detailed description.
When he turned another page, her eyes widened on the depiction of a peculiar, doglike creature with a bushy tail, clawed feet, and a pointed head that narrowed to a long tube. She swallowed a gurgle of mirth. “Oh, my. What in the world is that?”
“Whenever the ship put ashore, I sometimes caught sight of unusual animals as I was gathering my botanical samples. This one is an anteater. The snout is designed to poke into ant hills and termite mounds.”
Tessa wrinkled her own nose. “Are they dangerous?”