Desires of a Baron

by Gordon, Rose

  Lucy stared at him. He had to have the thickest skull of anyone she’d ever met. “While I’m flattered that you’d find a match with me acceptable, I’m afraid that I must decline.” Then, without giving him a moment to say anything to make either of them any more uncomfortable, she spun around and went up to her apartment.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Giles gripped the arms of his chair, let out a deep breath, forced his eyes to the papers in front of him and commanded himself to make sense of it.

  No such luck.

  He’d been reading the same documents for two days now and couldn’t understand hardly any of it.

  “What’s that?”

  Giles’ head snapped up and his hands reached out to push the papers away. In his haste, he knocked them to the floor.

  Sebastian, his unannounced visitor, came to his desk and knelt down to help Giles gather the papers. “Is something wrong?”

  Wordlessly, Giles took the papers from Sebastian and pushed them into a stack. “No.”

  “Giles?”

  “How is your wife?”

  Sebastian smiled and shook his head. “Clever tactic.” He made himself comfortable in a chair. “I don’t know yet. I’ve been invited to the Townsons’ ball tonight and I’m hoping to see her there.”

  “See her?”

  Sebastian crossed his ankles. “It’s difficult to explain, but right now, I’ll be content to see her and beg for an audience.”

  Giles lifted his eyebrows. “Beg?” He could hardly imagine Sebastian on his knees dressed in his dove trousers and blue coat begging anyone for anything. Actually, now that he thought about it, the mental image was quite humorous.

  “Laugh if you must, but it might be my only way to get her back.”

  “Back? Aren’t you still married to her?”

  “I am.” He frowned. “I was. I—” he twisted his lips and sighed— “I signed the annulment papers.”

  “You did?”

  “It might be the only way to get her back.” Sebastian knocked the sides of his leather boots together. “Now, enough about me, what is it that has caught your fancy and made you not come to White’s for the past five days?” He wagged his eyebrows. “Lucy?”

  Giles’ face flushed. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed so much that his friend knew he’d taken a fancy to her, but rather the reminder once again that he could never have her. “No.”

  “There are other ladies, Giles,” Sebastian said quietly.

  “I don’t care.” Giles picked up the stack of papers he’d earlier tried to make sense of and thrust them at Sebastian. “I can’t make sense of these. Cosgrove said I had to marry and produce an heir within the next two years but I don’t see anything in here that supports it. And I don’t know what to look for.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “There are twenty-eight pages to that damn document and after reading them over for two days I have no idea what twenty-six of them mean.”

  Sebastian read one. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know what I just read, either.”

  In spite of his frustration, Giles allowed a small smile. “I don’t care if that says I have to marry to get my inheritance. I was fine without.”

  “So then why are you troubling yourself with trying to read it?”

  Giles bit his lip. “The library.”

  “You think Lord Cosgrove might sell it?”

  “Yes.” Then what would happen to Lucy? Or his mother? As much as he didn’t want to like her, he was starting to and he’d hate for her to lose something she cared so much for. His eye caught Sebastian and he quickly found something of interest in the distance.

  “You need to hire a solicitor.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Do you want me to ask my man to look at this for you? He can be discreet.”

  “So can I,” a new voice said from the threshold.

  Giles sprang from his chair with so little grace and such great force he sent his chair backward. “Mr. Appleton,” he clipped.

  Mr. Walter Appleton, his mother’s husband, bowed. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Your man said it was all right to come inside.”

  Giles gave him a single nod and righted his chair. He only employed a skeleton staff as it was and most days he gave them the afternoon off. Very few people ever came to see him. There was no reason to have dozens of servants buzzing about.

  Mr. Appleton straightened the cuff on his black coat. “I know we have a very loose acquaintance, but before I began banking and investments, I trained to be a solicitor and would be willing to help you, if you’d like.”

  Giles wasn’t sure if he could trust him or not.

  As if he sensed Giles’ hesitancy, Mr. Appleton said, “I’ll be more than happy to entrust something of value to me in your care.”

  Giles didn’t know what that could possibly be but was relieved all the same at the offer. “A-all right.” He swallowed and nodded for Sebastian to allow Mr. Appleton to take the documents.

  “It shouldn’t take me long to read over everything.” He flipped through the pages. “A day. Two at most.”

  “Thank you.” He gestured toward the empty chair near Sebastian.

  Mr. Appleton sat and exchanged a look with Sebastian. Odd. Did the two of them not like each other— Understanding hit. Mr. Appleton had no reason to like Sebastian. His son, Simon had wanted to marry Sebastian’s wife. A very uncomfortable feeling settled over the room.

  “I should probably be going,” Sebastian said, standing.

  Giles didn’t want him to go, but understood.

  “I know I didn’t win the other night,” Mr. Appleton said a moment after Sebastian was out of the room, “but I was hoping I might still be able to ask a favor of you.”

  Giles tensed. A favor? There wasn’t any favor Giles could do for the man. That wasn’t true. Though Giles had been absent from London society for the majority of his life, he did still have a title. Was that why Mr. Appleton was so willing to help him? Did he want to ask Giles to use his nonexistent influence to help him in some way? Without realizing it, he was grinding his teeth so hard they might soon turn to dust. He must have a tattoo on his forehead that said, “Simpleton”. He’d have to check for it later.

  “It’s not that kind of a favor.”

  Giles penetrated the man with his eyes. “Go on.”

  “As you already know, your mother had to clear out the apartment above the library for Miss Whitaker and her son. What you may not know is that your mother refuses to part with any book that’s ever been donated to the library and now that the space has been cleared there is a mountain of books—fortunately contained within the confines of a multitude of wooden crates—that has taken up residence in the back third of the library.”

  “Are you wanting my permission to throw them out?”

  “Not all of them.” Mr. Appleton idly scratched his neck. “Actually, I thought that only the ones in poor condition should be tossed. Instead, I asked Simon to take over my duties today in hopes that I could organize the books for her and came by to ask if you’d be willing to help.”

  “Help?” Giles croaked.

  “Of course.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t ask you to do it alone, but I certainly don’t think I could do it alone, either. I just need some help, if you’re willing.”

  Giles was speechless. Mr. Appleton wanted his help? “Did my mother ask you—”

  “No. She doesn’t know I’m doing it and I wanted to ask you all on my own.”

  Giles’ heart squeezed, but he couldn’t say why. “Of course.”

  Mr. Appleton stood and gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

  ***

  Lucy walked Mrs. Crandall to the door and saw her out. Closing the door, she sighed. There had to be at least another hundred crates full of books to sort through. She’d only gotten through four crates in the past two days and at this rate, it might be autumn before she finished.

  With a sigh she gripped the edge of the crate nearest her
and pried open the lid.

  “Anything worth keeping?”

  “L-Lord Norcourt.” Her face flushed and slowly she turned to face him, her eyes widening. Next to him was Mr. Appleton. What were the two of them doing here together? “I don’t know what’s in there yet. I just opened it.”

  “Well, then, let’s see.” Giles reached around her, his wrist grazing her abdomen and her skin tingling with excitement.

  She cleared her throat, hoping it’d make her body quit responding in such a way to his nearness. It did not. “Mrs. Appleton asked me to put them away with the others…”

  Giles didn’t say anything as he lifted out a large stack of books in his big hands. He turned them to the side and read the titles, his brow furrowing. “Where did these come from?”

  “Here and there,” Mrs. Appleton explained, coming to join them. She took the books from him, presumably, so he wouldn’t have a chance to declare them to be rubbish and order them thrown out. “People donate books to the library all the time.”

  “These books?”

  Mrs. Appleton nodded. “Most of the books here were donations.”

  “Perhaps it’s time you donate some of these to another library,” Mr. Appleton suggested, taking the books from his wife. “’Boats Afloat’,” he read with a chuckle. ‘Land, Ho!’, ‘Bow and Stern—Not just for the Schoolroom’”. The way he scrunched his nose up as he read the titles in an amused tone, nearly made Lucy giggle. “’Sailing to the Savages’,” he added, shaking his head. He set the stack of books down before reading the other titles. “These seem worthy of donating on their titles alone.”

  “Oh, but someone might come in who wants to know all about ships or sailing,” Mrs. Appleton argued.

  Mr. Appleton picked up the book on top and flipped it open. “This was printed in 1625, I’d imagine there has to be something newer since then.” He looked to Giles for support.

  Giles shrugged.

  Sighing, Mrs. Appleton said, “Oh, all right, that one can be donated.” She picked up the others and held them against her chest. “But these are staying.”

  “Well, Miss Whitaker, I tried, but all I could manage was to get you one less book to dust.”

  Mrs. Appleton shook her head, her lips twitching. “I wondered why you were here.”

  “To rid this library of anything published before the pilgrims set sail and I’ve enlisted some help,” he said, clapping Giles on the shoulder.

  “I see.” A smile split her face. “Well, then, I suppose I’ll let you two get started. But just so you know, even by your own statutes, this book—” she plucked Boat’s Afloat from Mr. Appleton’s fingers— “still falls into the acceptable years.”

  “Very well,” Mr. Appleton agreed with a chuckle. “We’ll call for you when we’re done.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “And we’ve already disposed of all the books we don’t plan to keep.”

  Wagging her finger at him, Mrs. Appleton walked away.

  “I suppose I’d better go help her,” Lucy said, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.

  “Why?” Giles asked. “Nobody’s here.”

  “He’s right,” Mr. Appleton agreed. “If you promise not to tattle on us and what we throw out, we’d be glad for the help.”

  Lucy bit her lip. She shouldn’t. “I don’t think I can help you.”

  “Sure you can. You know where everything goes, don’t you?” Giles picked up a large stack of books. “I don’t.” He turned the books over and separated the top two books from the pile. “Embroidery?”

  Lucy took the books from him and rushed to put them away. When she came back, there were four more stacks of books for her to put away. Reptiles. Astronomy. Plants. Chess.

  She hurried to put each type of book away and came back to find more piles, then repeated the process. It worked wonderfully for the most part, if not a little overwhelming sometimes. But after only five hours, they’d made their way through the majority of the crates.

  “Who reads this?” Giles asked, staring down at a thick leather-bound book, his upper lip curling up.

  “May I?”

  Giles handed her the book. She read the title and giggled. Prim and Proper, the Way to be a Lady. “I know someone who might like to see this.”

  “You do?”

  His surprised tone and baffled expression made her smile. “Seth.”

  “Seth?”

  Lucy had the oddest urge to smooth the lines that had formed on his forehead when his eyebrows shot near to his hairline in astonishment. Instead, she nodded and said, “When we were living in Bath, Seth learned to read using etiquette guides.” She shook her head and sat atop a nearby crate. “I have no idea where the ladies who were teaching the group found so many books on the subject, but they used them as reading primers, nonetheless.”

  “And he enjoyed them?”

  “Perhaps not the books,” Lucy allowed. “I think it was more the ladies who were teaching him.”

  “Have a fondness for his tutor, did he?”

  Lucy moved her legs to let Mr. Appleton pass with a tall stack of books. Fondness wasn’t near an accurate word to describe Seth’s feelings. Affection was better, but still not quite strong enough. “It was the worst case of calf-love I’ve ever witnessed.”

  “Calf-love?”

  “Infatuation. Obsession. Undying affection.” Lucy shook her head ruefully. “I think he’d have asked her to marry him if she wasn’t already married to—” She broke off. Suddenly this memory wasn’t quite as sweet as she remembered.

  “Did you not like her husband?”

  “No, it’s not that I disliked him necessarily.” She noticed a loose thread on her purple cuff and developed an interest in fixing it.

  “Lucy?”

  She sighed and let go of the little string. “My father worked in the dairy on his father’s estate and when I came of age, I was a dairymaid there.”

  “Did he treat you poorly?”

  “Poorly?” She shook her head. That wasn’t a fair term to assign to Paul’s treatment of her. He’d always treated her well; it was his brother who hadn’t. Not until they were older and she had something he wanted from her, that is. “Paul was always kind. Even then.”

  “Too kind?”

  Lucy flushed violently. “Heavens, no!” She reached down into the open crate at her side and removed a stack of books. “Paul wasn’t that way. His brother certainly was, but he wasn’t.” She thumbed through the stack and removed a moldy book followed by one that had no binding left. “What made it so awkward was that Paul had proposed marriage to me when we were younger and I turned him down—for his brother.” She paused. That hadn’t been so hard to confess.

  “His brother didn’t return the interest?” Giles asked, his rough voice startling her.

  She pressed her lips together. “No.”

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear it.

  “It’s of no account,” she said, waving him off. “Not all brothers are the same and neither are their intentions.” She was horrified as soon as she realized what she’d said. And even more so when Giles spoke again.

  “No, they’re not.” He hoisted a tall stack of books out of the box and set them in his lap. “You shouldn’t let his actions keep you from making another match.”

  Excitement shot through Lucy and she forced her now shaking fingers to pick up another set of books. Giles had a hard time articulating things. She knew this, but was it possible that he felt the same way for her that she did for him? “Are you offering, my lord?”

  “No,” he practically shouted, then blushed, presumably at calling attention to himself with his answer. “I meant with Simon.”

  Disappointment crashed over her and now her hands shook for an entirely different reason: mortification and dare she admit, devastation at being rejected so coldly. He didn’t mean to cause embarrassment or seem so cold, she reminded herself. It was just his way. “I see…” She divided her stack of book
s into three little piles of like subjects and placed the unusable books back into the empty crate. “So then you’d approve such a match.”

  He looked up and met her eyes. “I’m in favor.” Something was in those green orbs of his that she couldn’t place. Likely the same thing that was in his tone. It wasn’t hesitancy, though, which was a point in her favor should she accept Simon’s offer to court her, she supposed. At the same time, it only served to devastate her more. He truly wasn’t interested.

  Chiding herself for wishing that he was even the slightest bit interested, she stood. It was better this way. At least he’d been honest with her about his lack of interest. That was more than she’d received from Sam. She choked on her bitter laughter and lifted two squat stacks of books that needed to be put away and started toward the shelves. Simon was the safer choice. She’d known that all along and now that Giles had all but given her his blessing, there was no reason she shouldn’t encourage Simon were he to be brave enough to approach her again.

  Simon was brave enough, it would seem. Determined, too. With just minutes before Mrs. Appleton was to lock up and force her husband and Giles to leave with her, Simon came into the library.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment alone?” he asked Lucy, the color heightening in his cheeks.

  “I don’t know if it’s proper for us to be alone—even for a moment,” she teased.

  His color darkened. “Indeed. I’d just meant—”

  Lucy waved him off. “I know what you meant. How about if we go over there?”

  He looked to where she was pointing and nodded. When they were to where he might consider a safe distance from the others, he said, “I wanted to apologize about last week. I think I said something that was taken out of context. It would seem that I have been—” He broke off, snorted, and shook his head as if he’d thought of something humorous and perhaps inappropriate to say.