Chapter Six
Cate couldn’t help feeling quite content with her life.
She’d worked the morning shift at the lending library, and now, she’d been admitted into the duke’s townhouse to tackle another few hours of the translation.
This time, she’d brought a couple of books her father had of Egyptian hieroglyphs to hopefully help her with figures she’d not yet seen before.
Today, she decided to work on the translation in the drawing room, where it was obvious it had been freshly papered and painted.
The portions of the wall over the wainscotting had been painted a forest green while the lower portions of the wall were covered with ivory paper with pink stripes and strips of trailing green ivy vines.
Aubusson rugs in matching colors covered portions of the wooden floor while heavy velvet draperies in dark green hung at the windows.
But one of the best features in the room was the sight of the duke, who sat in one of the winged-back chairs near the fireplace, where cheerful flames danced behind an ornate metal grate. The silver strands in his hair glimmered in the candlelight, for it was once more pouring rain outside.
“Good afternoon, Scarborough.”
His eyes lit as he set the book he’d been reading down as he met her gaze. “Hullo, Miss Pickwick. It’s good to see you again. Did you intend to work in here this afternoon?”
“I do. It’s quite lovely in here, and cozy with the fire.” She selected a low sofa near to his location then settled there with her books, notebook, and the Egyptian book.
“And don’t forget the rain,” he said with a cheeky grin. “You can’t have Christmastide in England without the damned rain. Especially this year, apparently.”
“You are obsessed with the weather.”
He snorted. “Show me an Englishman who isn’t.”
Cate couldn’t help but smile, for the duke was an interesting man, and he grew more fascinating as each hour went by.
“There is that.” She spread her books out on the table.
“I’ve been able to make a bit of progress on the book.
Luckily, it’s a fairly slim volume and the writing isn’t cramped though some of the symbols are vexing. ”
“Excellent. I look forward to helping with the translation.”
She nodded. “Are you familiar with hieroglyphics?”
“A bit, but I am always willing to learn.”
Mmm, did that apply to everything in life? Perhaps she would have the opportunity to discover if that was true. When she caught a bit of glitter from the corner of her eye, Cate glanced at the boxes of Christmas finery. There was even a box of freshly cut greenery.
“Did someone go out and fetch pine boughs in the rain?”
“Um, actually the footmen went out yesterday to retrieve them. I would never have anyone go out in this miserable weather, not even for pine boughs.” His grin sent shivers of need down her spine. “The only thing they didn’t bring back was mistletoe.”
“Perhaps on the next break in the rain we could search for some.”
“Excellent idea.” He chuckled. “My wife was adamant the house have at least two sprigs of the plant.”
“Oh, why?”
“Well, there was nothing she enjoyed more than casually drifting beneath a sprig in the hopes I would see and come over to kiss her.” A bit of nostalgia crossed his face. “So she directed the footmen to hang one here in the drawing room and put another in the upstairs, private parlor.”
“That is quite a sweet tradition.” Cate held his gaze. “Did you humor her with kisses?”
“Of course. There was nothing like seeing her face light each time I would play into her silly scheming. My children thought it fun when they were young, but I suppose they’ll never forget and perhaps will remember that whimsy is a big part of making a marriage last.”
“How lovely.” Was he still in love with his dead wife? Perhaps that was something she truly needed to find out. Not that there was anything between her and the duke other than desire, and it might carry over into a tryst for the length of her translation services.
“You had said previously that you enjoy the Christmastide season. Why is that?” As he spoke, Barr left his chair to settle beside her on the sofa. The heat of him seeped into her side since his shoulder brushed hers.
“Oh, my mother was quite the hostess; she adored decorating and entertaining. Every year she invited my father’s colleagues for a party during this season.
That always meant budging my father out of his study and making him chat with his friends as well as hers.
” She grinned with the remembrance. “There were parlor games and carol singing sometimes, but she had quite the knack of bringing everyone together and making everyone feel lovely.”
“That certainly sounds cozy. You must miss her terribly.”
“I do. Some days are worse than others.” A hint of tears welled in her eyes. “This time of year is especially difficult, at times, but if I keep myself busy, the loss isn’t as acute.”
“Then it’s even more important to keep the traditions. If you’ll help with decorating, perhaps you’ll feel your mother close this year.”
“Thank you.” She nodded. “That is kind of you.”
“And I won’t miss my children so much as well.” Then he leaned across her to pick up the Egyptian book. Did he mean to brush his sleeve over her breasts? “How far have you gotten on the translation?”
“I’m nearing the first quarter.” As an experiment, Cate slid her hand along his arm to the hand holding the book then she opened the volume to the page she’d stopped on yesterday.
“If you would like to assist in the translation, I’d welcome that help.
” Spending time with him in any capacity was becoming difficult after what they’d shared over the past few days, for the sheer reason that she wanted more.
So much tension snapped between them, so much desire and innuendo, and while she reveled in that, she needed a break from it.
It was almost as if she was becoming drunk on him or dependent like an opium addict.
It was madness, and far different than what she’d shared with her previous employers turned lovers.
Would he soon bed her? Oh, she hoped so.
After manipulating his member yesterday in the carriage, she couldn’t wait to have that appendage moving in and out of her body.
“I would be delighted to assist, but I don’t know how much I’ll be able to contribute.”
With their heads close together and the duke holding up the book, Cate grabbed up her notebook where she’d scribbled notes and ponderances.
“Since some of the passages are faded and some are hopelessly smeared from water damage over the years, the translation has been slow and frustrating, but I can tell you what I’ve managed thus far.
” When he nodded, she continued as she consulted her book.
“From what I can understand, this is the story of a son of a pharaoh.”
“The one we spoke about before?”
“Not likely, but if it is, this was a son far down the line of succession because he doesn’t have his own title, and it doesn’t appear anything was expected of him beyond being a hunter.” She shrugged. “He has apparently fallen in love with a young woman who is entirely wrong for him.”
“How so?”
When she shrugged again, her shoulder brushed his, leaving heated tingles behind. “From all accounts, it seems as if this young woman is one of the slaves in the palace. The pharaoh’s son knows if his father finds out, he’ll order the girl’s death, especially as she’s not of Egyptian descent.”
“Ah, bit of a shock, that.” After setting his spectacles on the bridge of his nose, the duke scanned the text with his gaze. He pointed out symbols and letters he recognized. “I imagine it was difficult back then, especially if one was royalty.”
“But consider the romance of it all,” Cate insisted with a nod.
“Sneaking about, stealing kisses when they think they’re alone.
” She grinned. “The pair shares a mutual desire that can’t be denied.
” When she turned to a page in the slim volume, her fingers brushed his.
“One night, they met at midnight by the river. Hidden in the reeds and vegetation, they can be together, and according to the passage here, they wish to show each other the depths of their love through creative and inventive positions.”
“How interesting. I suppose when one is indulging in clandestine relationships, one makes the best of them.”
Cate nodded. “Then the man writes about those position as well as his love for the young woman.” When she glanced at the duke, their gazes collided.
“This book is a romantic documentation of his courtship of her despite the danger to them both and the forbidden words they aren’t allowed to speak to each other.
It’s poetic prose to this woman so she might know how he feels without him saying it aloud for someone to overhear, and the pictures are a remembrance of what they’ve explored together. ”
“That is both sweet and sad.”
“It is.” With a frown, she turned to another page.
“Especially after this passage. I managed to translate it yesterday.” She tapped one of the passages.
“Roughly, this line of hieroglyphs says ‘though we cannot speak forbidden words of romance for fear of punishment, that doesn’t diminish our truth. Love doesn’t discriminate. It just is.’”
“While that is quite beautiful, it’s very melancholy as well. I wonder how their story ended.”
She snorted. “I think we both know the answer to that question.”
“Perhaps.” The duke shook himself and then left the sofa. He removed his spectacles and laid them on a small rose-inlaid table. “Perhaps we should introduce some cheer by decorating. I’ll order tea and have the servants join us. It will be like having family around us.”
“What a lovely idea.” Slowly, Cate closed the books and then stacked everything together on the tabletop. “Are you quite close with your staff?”