Chapter 9

"Will ye be taking breakfast downstairs, Yer Grace?" McGregor asked with a smirk the next morning.

"No," Levi said, wincing as he swung his legs out of bed. "Why would I take breakfast downstairs?"

"I heard yer dinner last night was a success. Thought maybe ye'd be joining the lady again this morning."

"No," Levi repeated, more tersely this time. "I will take breakfast in my bedroom as I always do. Then I will dress for riding and will take Lucky out."

"Still a slight rain."

"Of course there is," he muttered under his breath as McGregor brought his tea next to the bed. "How do you know so much about my dinner, anyway? We didn't discuss it last night."

McGregor had asked him about it as he helped him ready for bed, but Levi had told him it was fine and left it at that.

"From the footmen," McGregor said.

"The footmen are gossiping about me now?"

McGregor stopped laying out Levi's clothes to look at him. "Everyone does. Not just here, but in every household. Not much else to talk about, now is there? Never mind the chatter, Yer Grace. We only talk amongst the staff. Everyone is most loyal to ye. Not a word will get out."

He paused before beginning to speak again. "She's a bonny one, ain't she?"

Levi grunted, although he couldn't help the quiet twinge that struck deep within him at the thought of McGregor – or any of his other staff – considering Lady Siena in that way.

"Hadn't noticed," he said. "Be respectful."

"Of course!" McGregor said. "We were only thinking of you."

"Of me?" Levi repeated. "What do I have to do with it?"

"Well," McGregor said with a shrug as he helped him into his clothing for the day, "when ye've shut yerself up here all alone there is not much chance to meet women. However, it seems that one has quite literally fallen onto your doorstep! Perhaps it's fate."

"Perhaps it is nothing more than what it appears to be," Levi said, stamping down any hope of seeing Lady Siena as more than just a woman passing through – for that was all she was. And he would be wise to remember it.

The truth was, McGregor was right. He had enjoyed himself at dinner last night. He knew he was not a scintillating conversationalist, but Lady Siena hadn't seemed to care. She had been comfortable in the silence, and when she did speak, she was worth listening to.

He had been surprised at how quickly she had forgiven him, but then, she appeared the forgiving sort, considering what she'd had to say about her parents.

If he was the man he had been before, he would have had a mind to tell them exactly what he thought of their plan to marry her off to a man like Mulberry. What could they possibly have been thinking? He knew Mulberry had fortunes, yes, but it had been amassed from preying off men when they were at their lowest points.

While Levi wasn't certain what the man would be like with his wife, if how he treated other men – and women, or so he was told – was any hint, Siena had escaped just in time.

He wondered what she was doing today. What she was wearing. What mood she was in.

Was he so bored that this was all he had to consider now?

Except he thought he actually cared.

Which was most concerning of all.

Siena was pleasedto find the library that morning empty of anyone except for the characters that filled the pages of books surrounding her. She had been itching to discover which books were nestled in the shelves that lined the expansive room from floor to ceiling but had been too absorbed in her work of itemizing the paintings of the house.

She had saved the library for last and was pleased to find that in here, there were no paintings to speak of. Instead, the books and their spines provided all of the art one might need.

Siena smiled like a child who had been presented with her choice of sweets as she wondered just how many volumes were housed here. She crossed over to the shelf where she had found Shakespeare's works and then began to make her way to the left.

They were rather well organized, so different from her father's library, which was filled with books but only to display his collection of knowledge. He hardly ever read any of them and Siena found them far too boring.

The majority of the books in his collection were political and historical volumes.

Her preferences leaned towards distant lands, thrilling swordfights, and disguised princes.

None of which fit in her father's library.

Here, however, she held out hope, for she had no idea who the past owners of this grand room were and what they might have been interested in.

She peeked over at the next shelf, thrilled when she opened the cover of the first book and found it to be a work of fiction.

This was promising.

Over the next hour, she became familiar with how the library was organized and her eyes widened in amazement as she discovered the variety of genres present in the collection. From thrilling adventures to heartbreaking romances, the shelves held a treasure trove of stories waiting to be explored.

Her fingers trailed along the spines, finding the rough texture of leather-bound classics and the smooth surface of newer novels. Siena"s heart raced with excitement as she unearthed hidden gems, each book whispering promises of wonder.

She found herself drawn to a corner of the room where a dusty old tome sat abandoned six shelves above her. She wasn't sure what it was about that particular book that sat at the end of the high shelf, but she needed to read what was in it.

Far out of her reach, she found the ladder that was attached by wheels to the shelves and rolled it over to where she required it.

Siena took a deep breath, shaking off her fear of heights.

"You can do this, Siena," she told herself. "Face your fears."

She had run away from a wedding and her family.

She could climb a ladder.

With trembling hands, she began to climb, one rung at a time, until she reached the top and was parallel with the shelf. With one hand clutching the ladder tightly, she stretched the other out and up and carefully pulled the book down, blowing away the layer of dust that obscured its title.

"Love for All Times," Siena read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. She should climb down the ladder and find a place in the library to begin the story, but she was too intrigued to wait. A quick look wouldn't hurt.

She flipped open the cover and read just a few lines, which was more than enough to capture her attention as she was immediately transported into a world of magic and mystery. The words on the pages seemed to dance before her eyes, painting vivid images of lush greenery and colorful blooms.

She was so caught up that she nearly forgot where she was, and when a voice called out behind her, she whirled around with a yelp of surprise.

And lost her grip on the ladder.

Her arms fluttered around in the air, desperately trying to catch hold of the rungs, but it was no use – her momentum was taking her backward, and there was nothing she could do but prepare for the fall.

She closed her eyes, balled her body, and landed with an "oof" in strong, solid arms.

She opened her eyes slowly, wondering how she could have been saved – and found the duke's face staring down at her.

"What were you doing?" he bit out, and she inhaled swiftly, appreciative that he had caught her and yet annoyed that he would chastise her when he had been the one to cause her to fall.

"I was finding a book."

"You were reading a book. On a ladder."

"Just for a moment," she defended herself, frowning at him. "It had called to me, and I wanted to see what it was about. I never considered that you might appear and scare me as you did."

"Scare you? By walking into my own library?"

"Yes," she said, even though she knew he had every right to be here and had only startled her by accident. It was just that she didn't like the way he was blaming her for doing nothing untoward. "You should have announced yourself."

"I did," he said wryly, staring down at her. She met his gaze, noting that his expression was no longer angry. In fact, it was… curious. She shifted slightly in his arms, suddenly incredibly aware that they were around her body, holding her tightly as though she weighed nothing.

Siena felt a rush of warmth as she realized that despite their casual conversation, her body was pressed against the duke's. His solid arms held her securely against him, their faces now mere inches apart. His breath brushed against her cheek, his intense gaze locking with hers.

"I... I didn"t mean to startle you," he said softly, his voice low and smooth, so different from the gruffness that usually filled it. "But what kind of book could be so captivating that it would lure you to read it while standing high upon a ladder?"

She swallowed hard as a jolt of awareness shot through her at his nearness. "It"s a book... a love story," she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's handwritten and hand-drawn, which leads me to believe it might be true?"

His eyebrow raised, his gaze flickering with interest. "Handwritten, you say? That does sound intriguing."

As he spoke, Siena couldn"t help but notice the way his lips moved, the slight stubble along his jawline, the scent that surrounded him, a masculine mixture of sandalwood, new fallen rain, and a sweet scent she couldn't quite identify. Her heartbeat quickened as she became acutely aware of their closeness.

Siena"s cheeks flushed as heat radiated off the duke's body, warming hers, his gaze holding her eyes in a mesmerizing lock. She couldn"t tear her eyes away from his, the strange pull toward him both exciting and terrifying her.

Feeling emboldened by the moment and the book still clutched in her hand, Siena took a deep breath and spoke softly, "Would you like to... read it with me?"

The words slipped out before she could anticipate it herself, but she didn"t regret it. She longed for company, but not any company – his. There was more to this man than what he showed her and the rest of the world. She could feel it and thought that maybe he had forgotten it himself and needed a reminder.

She didn't know what had happened to him to make him so distrustful of the world around him, but perhaps it was just that his story wasn't finished yet.

The duke"s eyes softened at her offer, his grip around her loosening slightly as he finally set her down on her feet.

"You don't want me to get in your way."

"You would not be in my way at all." Her cheeks warmed slightly as she realized how much she wanted him to agree to this. "I would appreciate your company."

He paused, looking away from her for a moment before he returned his gaze to her and cleared his throat.

"Very well," he replied softly, the faintest upturn of his lips making Siena"s heart flutter.

He waved his hand toward two chairs by the window, a small table between them. She took one, noting that he winced slightly while taking the other.

"Did you hurt yourself?" she asked as now with space between them she recalled how quickly he must have moved across the room to catch her. "How were you able to reach me so fast?"

"Old habits," he said, staring out the window and off into the distance, and Siena had the distinct feeling that, for a moment, he was not with her but somewhere – or sometime – else entirely. "There was a time when I needed to be able to move gracefully and quietly to stay alive."

Her breath caught in her throat at the thought of it.

"You have lived an adventurous life."

His head swivelled back toward her, pain upon his face. "You could call it that."

She wanted to ask more, but he picked up the book she had set on the table between them.

"I have been through this library so many times and yet, I have never seen this book before."

"I cannot say what it was about it that drew my attention," she said with a shrug. "Its cover is old, dusty, and grey. Yet within it seems to hold magic."

"Very well," he said. "Why do we not begin?"