He grinned. “You are so direct.” He grew serious and held her gaze. “No, I’m not a philanderer, though Henry believes I need a new wife. He’s been on a crusade to find me one.”
“What do you think about it?”
“I have no desire to enter the matrimonial state again. Or at least I didn’t.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice soft.
“There is something between us, Miss Adeline. I don’t know what it is, or where it will lead.”
“I don’t either.”
“I would like to find out,” he said. “In fair disclosure, let me mention that I’ve been seeing a young woman in the city. My commander’s daughter, Margaret. But I give you my word that I won’t be seeing her again.”
She bit her lip. “Have you been dating her long?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “We’ve gone out four times.”
Her expression softened. “Oh, Lieutenant North. That poor woman. What will she think when you don’t ask her out again?”
“She’s beautiful and sought after. I’m sure there are many men who will be glad to step into my shoes. I shall call her tomorrow and inform her of my interest in you.”
Her eyes shimmered with moisture. “I don’t like that she’ll be hurt.”
He laughed. “Miss Adeline, there isn’t a woman alive who would find it in her heart to empathize with a rival as you do.” That’s what drew people to her, he decided, the compassion that emanated from her. Was it the result of her faith or something else?
“Did you love Katherine too much to replace her?”
He smiled. “What a romantic you are, my dear. Our marriage was less than warm.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, resting her hand on her chin. “I saw a photograph of her. She was very beautiful.”
“And spoiled.” John’s smile faltered. “Edward embarrassed her. I fear at times I embarrassed her more.”
Addie appeared so small in the large chair as she propped her chin on her hand. “You?” she asked.
Her tone implied it was beyond her comprehension that anyone wouldn’t be honored to be on his arm. No one in his life had ever treated him with so much respect. No wonder she intrigued him.
“I didn’t have enough ambition. Or perhaps I had the wrong kind.” Such an honest woman as Addie deserved the truth from him. “And I know I wasn’t the husband I should have been. I was away often, working hard to be the man she could look up to. I didn’t handle the stress well. We drifted so far apart that we were strangers in the same house.”
Addie shuddered. “I’m so sorry. Poor Edward, to lose his mother at such a young age.”
If she only knew how much better off his son was without the mother who hardly acknowledged his existence. “He barely knew her. She avoided him when she could.”
Her eyes glistened again, and she blinked quickly. “Poor child.” She rose. “Thank you for tending to my wounds.”
“My pleasure. Good night.”
“Good night,” she echoed.
He watched her walk away, her gown swishing with every step. Something about her made him want to be better than he was. When he saw the admiration and respect in her eyes, he could feel himself straighten and walk taller. Not many women caused that kind of reaction in a man.
So many women simpered and danced around the truth. Addie was exactly what she seemed. Being around someone so honest was a refreshing experience.
THIRTEEN
MONDAY MORNING, ADDIE surveyed her domain again. The schoolroom lacked a proper desk. The existing chair and table were too small for Edward. Such circumstances gave her the perfect excuse to go to the attic. She’d been itching to find more of her mother’s possessions.
She touched the lad’s head. “Edward, you practice writing your A. I’ll be right back.”
The boy put his arm around the dog’s neck. “What about Gideon?”
“He can stay with you.”
She told Gideon to guard the boy, then went in search of Molly and found her scrubbing a bathroom. “Molly, I hate to disturb you, but would there happen to be any school desks in the manor?”
Molly pushed a tendril of damp hair that had escaped her cap out of the way and leaned back on her haunches. “I’m not sure, miss, but there might be something in the attic. I could check for you.” She started to get to her feet.
“Oh, don’t get up. I’ll do it if you direct me to the attic access.”
“It’s the door at the end of the hall by your bedroom.”
“Thank you.” Addie walked briskly through the labyrinth of halls and doorways, then found the attic door where Molly had indicated.
Light from the dormer windows shone dimly down the steep stairway. A lantern would help her see better, but she was in no mood to retrace her steps and bother Molly again. Perhaps there was a gaslight. She gathered her courage along with her skirts and ascended the stairs.
More light was the first thing she sought. Too many shadows dominated the space. She found a gaslight on a table, along with matches. When its hiss filled her ears, the warm glow from its globe made the attic appear less unfriendly. She glanced around and saw dressers, tables, trunks, and chifforobes. In another corner lay rolls of rugs. The other side held several desks and showed promise for what she needed. She picked her way through the jumbled furniture.
How would she know what furniture had belonged to her mother? She recognized the value of several lovely pieces under their drop cloths. She went through a stack of portraits but found none of her mother. In the back of the stack, she paused at the sight of a child, then realized it was too old to have been of her two-year-old self. The little one had long blonde curls and appeared to be about four. Perhaps it was Clara?
Addie left the paintings and began to look over the desks. Most of them were beautiful but built for a man, not a five-year-old boy. She removed protective covers from several pieces until she uncovered a woman’s desk. The desk was so lovely an exclamation escaped her lips. A white pastoral scene was painted on the doors that hid the drawers. She admired the delicate turned legs and the scrollwork on the front and top.
She had to see inside the dainty piece. The doors refused to open, and she realized it was locked. The key must be here somewhere. Kneeling, she ran her fingers over the legs, then under the desk. A key had been taped to the back edge. She peeled it off, then fitted the key into the keyhole. The hardware clicked, and she opened two doors to reveal two shelves and three drawers in a pale wood tone.
She wished she could claim it for her own. Never had she wanted something so badly. She touched the smooth wood, then pulled open the drawers. The two on top were empty. The bottom one ran the width of the desk and held bundles of letters in a woman’s script. Her hand hovered over one letter that was loose from the rest. Would reading this be prying? But surely whoever owned this didn’t care, not if she’d left the letters in the desk.
Addie decided to take a peek and see whom this exquisite desk had belonged to. The paper was heavy and stiff in her fingers. She unfolded the letter and made note of the address.
Dear Laura,
A gasp escaped her throat. Her mother’s letters? Her gaze roamed the desk. Did all these letters belong to her mother? She scooped them up and stuffed them into the waistband of her skirts. Once she reached the privacy of her room, she would read them. Perhaps they would reveal who was behind the events that had shaped her life.
She heard a creak on the steps and whirled to see John’s dark head appearing through the floor opening. She feared he could read the guilt stamped there and turned back to the desk.
“You startled me, Lieutenant North.” She closed the doors on the desk and placed the cloth back over it.
He stepped onto the attic floor. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find a desk for Edward. The table is much too small.”
He joined her. “Will this work?” he asked, pointing to a desk.
She examined it and nod
ded. “It’s much like the one I used at the lighthouse.”
He gave the attic a quick appraisal. “Lots of useless stuff up here.”
“Beautiful things,” she said. “Did you notice the desk I covered up? It’s so lovely.”
“I didn’t see it.” He lifted its cloth. “A woman’s desk,” he said. “I don’t remember Katherine using it. But then, she didn’t want anything old.”
Addie ran her hand over the painted front. “It’s exquisite.”
“I’m sure no one would object if you used it while you’re here.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” She took a step back. “I’m sure it’s very valuable.”
He shrugged. “It’s just an old desk. I’ll have one of the servants bring it down with this one for Edward. Do you want it in your room?”
“I’d rather use it in the schoolroom. Shouldn’t we ask permission first?”
“I’ll check with Clara, but I’m sure it’s fine.” He offered her his arm. “Lunch is in an hour. Henry will be back soon. I overheard you tell Sally you were itching to try the grand piano, and I’d like to hear you play.”
She put her hand on his arm. She could get used to attention from this man.
Addie sat on the bench at the grand piano. The ragtime music that poured from the instrument made John tap his foot. Edward cavorted with the dog on the wood floors, and John was of half a mind to join them.
“Who taught you how to play?” he called.
Her pensive smile faded. “My father taught me. He studied music and had thought to be a concert pianist before consumption changed his plans.”
Her mouth grew pinched, and he wondered about the relationship with her mother. There was pain there. He stood and walked over to lean on the piano lid. Before he could ask more questions, he heard a bellow behind him. The music tinkled to a stop and faded to an echo of its vibrant energy.
Henry’s broad form filled the doorway. “What is the meaning of this?” he shouted.
Addie’s hands still lay on the keys, and she turned to face Eaton, her green eyes wide. “I was told I would be allowed to play the piano,” she said.
“Not trash like that. This isn’t a bordello.” Henry’s face reddened. “Pardon me for mentioning something so indelicate to a lady, but Miss Sullivan, that kind of music is most unsuitable for my grandson and for anyone to hear echoing from the Eaton house.”
She paled even more. “I meant no harm, sir. My father paid for lessons, and these are the tunes I learned. To me, they express the joy I find in the Lord.”
Henry’s feigned smile was more of a grimace. “Well, you must unlearn them. Hymns will do more to connect you to God than that drivel can. There is suitable sheet music in the piano bench.” He turned and stomped out.
Watching Addie’s stricken face, John realized she was already feeling the pressure to conform, as he’d feared. He extended his hand. “I believe luncheon should be ready. Shall we go?”
She took his hand and rose, releasing it once she was on her feet. “I didn’t mean to offend him.”
“He’ll get over it.” The scent of Addie’s honeysuckle cologne smelled better than the aroma of roast beef, which grew stronger as they approached the dining room. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Carrington at the sideboard, dishing compote onto his plate. If John had realized the man had been invited for lunch, he would have made his excuses. He’d respected Carrington until his attention to Addie had commenced.
When they were seated, he turned to Clara. “Miss Adeline and I were in the attic looking for a desk for Edward.”
Clara stirred sugar into her tea. “Adeline? You’ve moved to first names?”
“A slip of the tongue,” he said hastily.
Her gaze slid to Carrington, who was obviously besotted. “You appear to have some competition, John.”
He resisted the impulse to tug on his tie. “About the desk?”
She took a sip of her tea. “Did you find one? There should be something suitable up there.”
“Yes, we did. We also stumbled across a writing desk. I told Miss Sullivan I saw no reason she couldn’t use it.”
She stilled. “A white one? With a painted scene on the front?”
“That’s the one.”
She directed a gaze at Henry on the other side of the table. “Henry, dear. Adeline would like to use Laura’s old desk that’s in the attic. That’s quite all right, isn’t it?”
Laura’s desk? John heard the taunting tone of her voice under the sugary sweetness that lay over it. He glanced at Henry and wasn’t surprised to see red running up the older man’s neck.
“Of course she can use it. Might as well get some good out of that old thing,” Henry said in an overly hearty voice.
Addie’s expression was stricken, and John knew she had caught the undertones too. It was clear to him that Clara had always known she was Henry’s second choice. Pictures of Laura and baby Julia were in Henry’s study somewhere, and he still wore the cuff links Laura had given him as a wedding present.
“I’ll have one of the servants bring it down,” John said. He noticed the Englishman was about to engage Addie in conversation again. “Miss Sullivan, since you’re finished with lunch, I wonder if I might have a word with you. About Edward,” he added when he saw a frown gather on Carrington’s face.
“Of course.” She put down her napkin and rose. “It’s been a pleasure, Lord Carrington.”
Carrington half rose. He took her hand and kissed it. “I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Sullivan.”
She withdrew her hand and moved away from the table. John wanted to believe it was relief he saw on her face. He’d like to think she was too smart to be taken in by Carrington. She took his arm, and they stepped out of the dining room. Once the clink of silverware was behind them, he stopped in the hall.
“Is something wrong, Lieutenant North?”
“Beware of Carrington,” he said.
“Mr. Carrington was very kind,” she said. “He made no untoward remarks.”
“He’s already got you lined up in his mind as his next wife. He’s buried one already.”
Her breath came fast, and spots of color lodged in her cheeks. “What happened to his other wife?”
Surely she wasn’t interested! “She died in childbirth.”
“Recently?”
He dropped his gaze. “No,” he muttered, struggling to maintain his temper. “About ten years ago.”
“The poor man,” she murmured. She removed her hand from John’s arm. “But I’m not interested in becoming wife number two.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” he said.
She tipped her head. “Are you? Why would that concern you?”
“He’s much too old for you,” he said.
She smiled, and her dimple appeared. “Surely he’s not more than fifty.”
“As I said. An old man.” He put her hand on his arm and steered her to the staircase. “I’m sure Edward is finished with his lunch by now. I’ll arrange to have the desk brought to you.”
Her impish smile faded. “I thought Mr. Eaton seemed not at all fond of the idea.”
“He said it was fine.”
She swept up the stairs beside him. “It was what he didn’t say that concerns me. It belonged to his first wife?”
“Clara’s half-sister.”
“Clara seemed somewhat jealous.”
“She always has been. Have you noticed the pictures of a beautiful redhead around the manor? That was Laura. Henry would be wise to take them down. Everywhere Clara turns, she sees the reminders of Laura.”
“I’ve only seen one.”
He stopped and thought. “You’re right,” he said, nodding. “Clara must have succeeded in relegating them to the attic.”
“He must have loved his first wife a great deal,” Addie said.
“It seemed quite the grand passion.” They reached the top of the staircase, and he turned her toward the schoolroom. “Katherine was alw
ays curious about the daughter, Julia. She’d wanted a sibling.”
“Julia,” she said, her voice strangled.
John hadn’t missed the change in her voice. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head violently. “You were saying?”
“She was around two. She and Laura went down in a shipwreck. I heard Henry didn’t eat or sleep for days. He searched for them for weeks, but there was never any sign of them. There were no survivors.”
“How sad,” she whispered.
He touched her chin and turned her liquid eyes toward him. “Don’t cry. It happened a long time ago. I’m sure Henry is over it all by now.”
“Love like that never dies.”
He smiled. “Such romanticism. No wonder you read poetry.”
“Does he ever talk about them?”
He released her chin and shook his head. “Clara would be in tears if he did. The servants tell how he raved like a madman when he heard the news. Molly said she’d never heard a grown man cry like that.”
Her fingers tightened on his arm as they moved toward the schoolroom. “Don’t talk about it anymore or I shall cry myself. It’s too sad for words.” Her voice broke.
“As you wish. I was just answering your questions.” He led her down the hall.
Edward’s empty plate lay on the table in the schoolroom. John stepped to the window and looked down into the side yard. “He’s tossing a ball to Gideon.”
“They’ll both burn off some energy.”
He turned toward her. “You haven’t asked how my call to Margaret went.”
She smiled. “Now who is very direct?”
He raised his brows. “You’re rubbing off on me.”
“I hope not. You’ll be reprimanded like me.”
“Someone has reprimanded you?”
She waved her hand. “Nothing serious. Mrs. Eaton told me not to be so forthcoming about where I am from. That I must maintain the position.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I told you not to let them change you.” Her scent filled his head.
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