Chapter 14
Cart wandered down an aisle housing what the library called their Ancient Section, which was certainly a jest, for the row only boasted approximately eighty-two books of varying sizes.
By Cart’s calculations, that was the most a bookcase of these dimensions and construction could support before the shelves gave way due to the weight.
It was not worth pondering the ridiculous notion that these eighty-two books held all the knowledge recorded about Ancient anything. In his own library, Cart had double this amount on the history of weather patterns across the known world alone.
Why had he allowed Jude to convince him that Sir Edwin’s Circulating Library would offer all that was needed to date and record the origins of her vase?
For certain because it eliminated the possibility of Jude and Lady Cartwright coming face-to-face. The last time Jude had visited his home had been too close for comfort. Not that he wished to hide his budding friendship with Jude. He only hoped to spare her the barbed tongue of his mother.
The place was inviting enough; housing a large room filled with tables, chairs, and settees for visitors to sit and read—or visit with acquaintances.
The temperature was not stifling, nor chilly, but somewhere in the middle, which would enhance the energy needed to retain any book read within.
It was a favorable environment for learning—if only there were not so many people and voices to contend with.
He reached the end of the aisle he’d been browsing—going between nervous anticipation of when Jude would arrive and utter dread if she had a change of heart and called off—and searched the main room for Theo, who’d tagged along in delight at visiting a true circulating library.
Cart had regularly sought out the small areas at White’s Gentlemen’s Club that offered minimal volumes but afforded much space for one to hide if one wished to get away from an overly loud household.
There was no such silence to be had here—it suited Theo grandly, but left many things to be desired for Cart. The only positive was that due to the public nature of the establishment, Jude need not bring a chaperone—or so she’d said a few days past at the park.
The park.
Cart shook his head to rid the thoughts swirling on the fringes of his subconscious.
Images replaying over and over…some very real, while others were more of the imaginary nature.
But even with the thoughts gone, he could still feel the warmth of her lips on his and the softness of the skin above her gloves when he’d truly stepped over the boundaries and caressed her upper arm just below her sleeve.
The moment had taken him by surprise—so much so that he’d run the moment he returned Jude to her sisters.
His mind shouted that it needed time to reconcile what the kiss had meant—for both of them.
He certainly hadn’t instigated the intimacy, but neither had he stopped her when he realized her intent.
And, undoubtedly, he had not been the first to pull back.
To think that anyone could have wandered upon them…
Jude would have been ruined, caught in the embrace of a man.
He shuddered to think what would have been necessary on his part if they had been discovered.
A confession about subjects he never sought to tell her; a side of him he hoped to keep from her.
He was a pauper.
He had been swindled out of most of his inheritance by a trusted relative.
He was a proven dullard. A family disgrace.
He was earning a living to keep his family fed and clothed.
And, debatably, the worst, he lived with his shrew of a mother, who reminded him of all of those facts each time they both frequented a room at the same time.
Finally, he located Theo across the large room doing much the same as he, wandering a section far less grand and organized than it should be. Though a great distance from him, Cart made out the signage about the row: Novels (Adventure, mystery, and thrills).
He smiled, knowing she’d located the perfect area for her tastes, which would make for a far more enjoyable afternoon, out from under their mother’s watchful eye.
She’d likely find a book filled with tales of swashbuckling pirates or a maiden princess.
Fabricated stories that lent no true learning, but rather taught the young that belief in the imaginary was a worthwhile pastime.
For him, that time had passed when he’d learned his time at university would be cut short, his return to London demanded immediately.
He hadn’t even the funds then to hire a proper carriage, nor had his mother sent one for him.
He’d begged enough coin from a professor to gain transport on a mail coach that had left Eton before dawn one morning, traversing the twenty-four miles from Windsor to London in cramped quarters.
He gave a small wave when Theo looked his way and ducked back into the row, not wanting her to stumble upon him and Jude…if she ever arrived.
The tall clock in the main room chimed once.
Jude wasn’t late at all. It was he that was early, being unsure how long the walk would take.
Cart concentrated on calming himself. It would not do to have her arrive with him so nervous his forehead perspired and his palms became moist.
His physical response to her didn’t make sense in the slightest and he feared it was mainly due to his emotional reaction to her person—or just the thought of her.
Her silky auburn hair. Or her height—tall in comparison to most petite debutantes.
Though he found her slender form pleasing to the eye and comfortable to walk next to.
It could also surely be her way of laughing when he spoke out loud instead of analyzing something in his mind.
Her mind…his body most definitely had a positive reaction to her mind. They hadn’t spoken of the weather or other mundane topics since their first acquaintance.
It was both refreshing and terrifying at the same time.
“Lord Cartwright?”
Suddenly, she stood before him, appearing out of nowhere—or maybe manifesting from his thoughts. She'd slipped into the library unnoticed, even though Cart had glanced toward the doors often.
They hadn’t seen one another since the park and the images locked in his mind did not do her justice. She was truly breathtaking, especially with her long, dark coat buttoned to her throat and her hair partly freed to hang about her shoulders.
“I hope I did not keep you waiting overly long,” she said, her eyes avoiding his gaze.
He wanted to tell her he’d wait an eternity if it meant she would eventually come to him. Instead, he replied, “No, not at all. I was able to survey the selection while I waited.”
They stood a few feet apart in silence.
“Shall we sit?” He gestured to a small table with two chairs set apart from the main room. “Do allow me to take your coat and bag. It must be heavy.”
She released the satchel with no fuss and followed him to the table where he pulled a chair out for her to sit—only hoping it was the proper thing to do. She inclined her head as she quickly unbuttoned her coat and handed it to him.
“I hope your journey here was uneventful,” he said, his attempt at idle talk while he took his seat across from her.
“The walk was brisk and refreshing, though without incident.”
“You walked,” he stammered. “Alone?”
“It is daylight hours and the streets are populated. I assure you, it was quite proper.”
He was startled to realize it was not propriety he worried over but her safety. “I was not calling into question your respectability.”
“That is good to hear because someone would certainly see our time together at the park highly indecent.”
She regretted their kiss—wished it had never occurred.
He’d known this possibility existed and shouldn’t be shocked that she was voicing her concern over their actions on that day.
Her hand landed on his where it rested on the table between them and she grinned.
She was being nice, yet firmly communicating to him that another kiss was not in their future. The pit of his stomach dropped at the thought, for what else could her words and gesture mean?
She pitied him. At least, she was kind enough to continue their friendship.
Cart cleared his throat, determined to show her he could also overlook what they’d done and continue a suitable relationship. “May I see the vase?”
It stung that she obviously hadn’t been impacted the same as he by the kiss. Or that she had, but had since changed her mind.
Cart eyed her as she tugged the satchel toward her and pulled a wrapped bundle from inside.
Jude had taken great care with packaging the precious vase before leaving her residence.
It was something to be admired, for there were so many who abused antiquities, causing them irreversible harm, but not Jude.
She’d swaddled the vase in a crocheted shawl of some sort.
“Would you like to unwrap it?” she asked, holding the object out to him.
He desperately wanted to remove the cloth and behold what secrets lay beneath—his heart pounded and his breathing became shallow at the anticipation of it.
It was much the same with any new piece he beheld.
It was a rush and, currently, the only thing that could lighten his disappointment in Jude’s reaction—or lack thereof—to their kiss.
Taking the bundle, Cart slowly unwound the material guarding the vase.
The piece was light, almost weightless in his hands as the last of the material fell away. Cart couldn’t stop from gasping.
He wanted to hand the vase back to Jude, act as if he hadn’t seen it, and allow their relationship to take a step back—a mutual fondness for antiquities, a thirst for historical knowledge, enjoyment in academia—but he knew he had to inspect the vase.
Make sure his suspicions were correct, leaving no doubt in his mind that the woman before him was a fraud.