Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Miss Jennings?" Edward's gaze fell on Ophelia the moment he entered his study, her back facing the door, which had been left open. She jumped at his voice, clearly not expecting him to barge in on her in this manner, but Edward controlled his chuckle at her reaction.

She had been putting books back on the shelf as he knew she had been borrowing books from him since he had told her she could. He hardly had the time to read himself; hence, it felt good to him that his prized collection was at least coming into use by someone.

"My Lord," she replied, out of breath with alarm, "I did not know you would be back so soon. I had no desire to come in your way!"

"You did no such thing," he said dismissively, walking inside. "The weather was hardly apt for riding, and I decided to return early. I see you are returning the books you borrowed?"

Ophelia nodded. "And taking a few others."

As he stepped closer, the familiar scent of roses exclusive to her and her alone wafted up his nose, reminding him of the time when the two of them had been unable to look away from one another in this study. It had been two weeks since that incident, and he had noticed how Ophelia had maintained her distance from him, clearly just as affected by the whole thing as he was. He, too, had wanted to stay away, even though he had missed her company.

"Yes, yes," she replied. "I was done reading the ones I borrowed last week, so I just returned to take a few new books."

"You never have to worry about me being here or not here. You are welcome whenever you wish to get more books, Miss Jennings."

"That is very kind of you, My Lord," she said, her smile making the dark study much brighter.

Something about her simply brought light alongside her, and Edward could not determine the cause of it. Her presence had a calming effect, the concept being entirely new but rather welcome to him. This was why he hated being distant from her; it took away the peace she had made him feel.

He walked closer, intrigued regarding her reading choice since the very beginning. When she had first borrowed books, he remembered her taking both history and philosophy, but since then, she had made sure to only come into the study in his absence.

"What are you planning to read this time?" he asked, standing at a good distance to avoid making her uncomfortable.

The argument they had last night lay forgotten between them, but the memories of the feelings of that night were still aptly present. As much as Edward wished to relive it, he knew he could not. Not when he had no space in mind or heart to worry about anything else besides Margaret. His sister consumed all his thoughts, and Edward had no desire to welcome anyone or anything else.

"You have a rather interesting collection of books based on geography. I have always been fond of travelling and wanting to explore the depths of this world, and these books have been helping me learn about it and travel, at least through my imagination." She chuckled softly, ringing her hands.

Edward wondered if she was shy or nervous or if her mind, too, was consumed by thoughts of their previous encounter.

"You have an extremely refined reading palette, Miss Jennings," Edward replied. "Have you been reading long?"

"I have been reading for as long as I can remember!" she said enthusiastically. "Books have always been my refuge in both times of trouble and happiness. I enjoy the words and the imagination of the writers. It almost feels as if I am a part of a different world, even if for some time."

"Did you borrow books from the baron's library?"

Edward noticed confusion on her face as if she was trying to remember who the baron was, making him suspicious. When he had asked her about her eloquent use of vocabulary and manner of speaking, she had told him that since her childhood, she had been lucky enough to study with the daughter of a baron since her father had worked on his land. The reason had felt believable to him, but something about her still felt almost mysterious. She was too well-bred to be just an ordinary working-class girl, or perhaps Edward was reading too much into the whole thing.

"The baron," she said, realization dawning on her face, "I did, I did, yes!"

"That sounds excellent. I am glad you always had the best kind of books available to read from. You seem extremely fond of them." He smiled, and Ophelia nodded.

Was he reading too much into it or was she truly hiding something?

How can I find out?

Everything she had told him about her family had made him certain that she did indeed belong to the working class and both her parents always worked for a living. She was now working to support her family as well, but everything about her was ladylike. Her speech, word choice, how she carried herself, and even her idea of modesty. Edward had noticed how several maids were never uncomfortable with their skin showing or not wearing enough layers, but he had never once seen Ophelia in such a position. She was proper in her sitting and eating, and for someone so young who had never even worked in the position of a governess before, all of it was slightly unrealistic.

"Young women are hardly allowed a lot of luxuries, My Lord," she said seriously, "Reading happens to be one of the things that society does not condemn for us; hence, I always made sure to exploit that source to learn as much as I possibly could."

"You did the right thing." Edward smiled. "Since you are interested in geography and travelling, have these books been helpful?"

"Nothing can be as helpful as the real experience of travelling, of course," Ophelia said, leaning against his desk, her hands folded primly in front of her, "but I believe yes! I have only read the first two volumes yet, but they have provided me with detailed descriptions of Europe along with their historical elements, importance of land structures, and their general culture and living. I enjoyed them thoroughly."

"That sounds fantastic," Edward replied, realizing the more he got to know her, the more impressive she became. "I wished I had read them to contribute to your findings, but I believe I have travelled through the entirety of Europe, so that does give me some insight."

"Truly? Throughout Europe?"

"And much beyond it."

"Africa?" she asked, her eyes shining with unkempt excitement. "The next volume is outlining Africa, and I am terribly excited. I have wanted to visit the wilderness of the African forests for as long as I can remember."

"Who told you about them?" Edward asked, a little surprised at the extent of her knowledge. It was evident she had a vast expanse of understanding on a lot of things, which was rather strange for someone in her position.

"My father did," Ophelia replied, her eyes glossing over, "he had visited them in his youth, and he told me that the peace and serenity in those forests was far better than any luxury one can find in England or France. I have wished to visit ever since."

"Your father is right," Edward said, nodding, "Africa is as beautiful as a place can get, and I am lucky to have been there. I have been to various places, but I still have not been to India. I would love to go there someday."

"India," she sighed, "I have heard it is an exotic land."

"So have I." He shrugged. "I will find out once I visit."

"Do you promise to write a letter and tell me all about it in grand detail?" she said, her eyes shining with humour.

"I promise," Edward replied, completely serious. He could see she had never visited any of these places and a part of him wanted to make sure that she did visit each of them and he could witness her reactions when she saw the entire world before her.

A part of him kept whispering how she deserved everything good in the world, and Edward wondered how he could give it to her or if even thinking of such a thing was appropriate or not. Although, all he knew was that she was perfection in a person, and no one compared to Ophelia. Something about her simply broke all his barriers and moved past. He could not remember ever having such a conversation with any young lady of the ton, and all of them had been instructed by tutors and sent to finishing schools to make sure they turned into the best versions of themselves.

However, here was Ophelia, who certainly had not been lucky enough to have any such privileges, yet she was smarter than most. Anyone who met her would be enthralled by her mind.

"Thank you for the promise, My Lord," she said smiling, "I will take the books and be out of your way so you can resume work."

"I was just off to bed," Edward said, not having the heart to work tonight.

Ophelia nodded, quickly picking up the third volume of the book they had discussed and a large collection of poetic works by various poets. Silence filled the study as Edward waited for her, but he did not feel awkward in her presence. She was almost like his own self, subtle and calm, and he felt as if the two of them were in perfect harmony right now.

"I have them." She smiled, curtseying. "Have a good night, My Lord."

Edward watched her walk out before stepping out, heading straight towards his bedchamber, his mind still consumed by thoughts of Ophelia. He dismissed his valet, wanting to be alone and changed clothes himself, a certain sort of curious ease filling his heart. What was it about Ophelia that made him feel such things and was he right in believing that she might be hiding something?

He knew his suspicions were not baseless.

She was well-read and educated, and her person was too refined to be just anyone, but why would she ever lie about herself? Edward was confused.

Who are you, Ophelia?

He did not doubt her honesty, and he knew she was not a liar about anything; in fact, if anything, she was bold and compassionate, and her heart was too big. He remembered how she had stood up before him for Amy and how kind she was to everyone in the household. She had been courteous to him as well despite their argument.

What is it about her?

He got in bed, the darkness no longer nauseating as he could only think about Ophelia. Her hazel eyes and beautiful blonde hair always rested neatly on her shoulder or flowed behind her, reaching her waist. She was a sight no matter what time of the day, and Edward felt as if he could not get enough of her.

She had intrigued him in ways no one had been able to in quite some time, and he could not put a pin on this.

Ophelia.

He closed his eyes, his mind still completely consumed.

Ophelia.

It almost felt as if his heavy-lidded eyes were whispering her name, her image refusing to vanish from before him. He did not know if he was more entrapped by her beauty, by her mind, or perhaps by her bold spirit.

Though whatever it was, he could not shake the feeling that she had a hold on him.

And he had no desire to let go.