Chapter Nine #2
How lovely it was for him to have that in his life.
Since it was just her and her father, she’d never known the feeling of being part of a large family.
Of course, she wasn’t truly anything to the duke other than perhaps a lover over and above his translator, so she would never have cause to meet the other members of his family, so she reminded herself not to become too curious about them.
“Only time will tell.” The deep rumble of his voice tickled through her chest. “I just want them to find happiness.” He rested a hand atop hers on his arm.
“Does that include yourself, Barr?” she asked in a soft voice. “Don’t count yourself out on that front merely because you assume your usefulness in this life is over.”
“Shall I be honest?”
“Of course.” When he put a curled finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up so their gazes connected, she trembled with anticipation.
“Since finding the scandalous Egyptian book and meeting you, I have felt a renewed sense of purpose.” Then he lowered his lips to hers in a sweet, gentle kiss that both scattered her thoughts and renewed her worries.
“Ah, well, that reminds me.” Quickly pulling away and out of his reach, Cate moved to place the remainder of the bows. “I should concentrate fully on working through that translation. I’m sure you’d like for me to finish by Christmas.”
Would she see him again socially after that?
A huff left his throat. “There is no need for haste in this. I’d like it done right, not sloppily due to the impending holiday.”
She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do all the same.
” Did that mean she wanted their affair to end prematurely?
Or was she afraid that her heart might be engaged the longer she spent in his company?
If it wasn’t already heading in that direction.
Needing a distraction, she said, “Could you please move one of the more solid chairs over here beneath this mirror?” The looking glass in question was an ornate piece set in a scrolled, gilded frame in the shape of an oval.
“I’d like to hang a bow on the top. It will look so pretty when catching the light. ”
“Of course.” Was it her imagination, or did his expression fall slightly? Once he brought over a chair with a sturdy wooden back and a rather hard cushion, he placed it beneath the mirror. “Are you sure you wish to climb that? I can hang the ribbon.”
“Do stop, Scarborough. I’m not a helpless woman.
” But she did accept his hand as help when she hiked up her skirting and then climbed atop the chair.
When she was obliged to reach over her head a bit more than she’d anticipated, she teetered, but Barr was right there, anchoring her with his hands on her hips…
and she rather liked the security. “There.” With a bit of fussing with the ribbon to encourage it to lay correctly, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “See how lovely that is?”
“I do, indeed,” he said in a soft voice as he stared up at her. Then he offered his hand. “Now, come down. I don’t need a potential apoplexy wondering if you’ll teeter off that chair.”
“Such a spoilsport,” she murmured, but before she could use his assistance to climb off the piece of furniture, the mirror trembled on its hook, then as she stared, the whole piece tipped forward and came away from the wall. “Barr!”
That cry of alarm spurred the duke into action.
In seconds, he whisked her off the chair and into his arms moments before the mirror fell forward.
With a horrific noise, it crashed onto the chair then subsequently the floor, shattering into several pieces.
Had she been still standing on the chair, it would have smacked into her and knocked her to the floor, possibly injuring her quite handily.
“Oh, goodness.” Cate’s heartbeat pounded out a frantic rhythm, and she wrapped her arms about the solidness of his shoulders. “If you hadn’t been quick…”
He nodded as he tightened his grip ever so slightly. “You could have been rendered unconscious or worse. It’s a heavy mirror but the frame is even more so.” Peering into her eyes, he asked, “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. Just shaken. What an odd accident.” Yet she didn’t try to wriggle out of his hold. Then she gasped. “What if it wasn’t an accident?”
“What the devil does that mean?” Concern shadowed the blue pools of his eyes as he carried her across the room.
“What if what your valet said is true? What if that Egyptian book is truly cursed and now that bad luck is transferring to us?” It was far-fetched, of course, but it bore mentioning.
“Truly?” He scoffed. “What poppycock.”
“Is it, though?”
He frowned. “Though there have been some weird, and possibly unexplainable incidents in my family over the years.”
“Such as?”
Barr gently deposited her on a sofa. “Well, two years ago, my mother nearly drowned when she made a misstep and tumbled into the Serpentine.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw.
“About ten years back, my father fell down the stairs, resulting in a broken arm which had to be painfully set. And when my sister was younger, she was thrown from a horse. She remained unconscious for two days after that from hitting her head on a tree.” His frown was fierce.
“As for me, I’ve had terrible luck with a particular goose in Hyde Park near the Serpentine.
Every time I visit, I’m bedeviled by him. ”
She didn’t want to laugh, but she couldn’t help it as she imagined what that must look like. “You are going to need to let me witness that in person.” Then she sobered. “No wonder your father or grandfather hid the book away.”
“I rather doubt any of that is connected to a curse. There are no such things.” With the shake of his head, the duke yanked on the bell pull.
“Who can say? It’s an entertaining thought, but there is not enough evidence about either the book or its original provenance.”
“This is true. My father certainly never mentioned the book, and if Grandfather was the one who hid it, he didn’t let on that he’d traveled, but he might have bought the book from someone who did.”
“Someone who might, even now, be dead,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Bah.” Then the butler arrived at the door. Quickly, Barr gave an explanation of what had occurred. “Please ask the housekeeper to bring in a cool cloth and perhaps tea to settle Miss Pickwick’s nerves. We’ll also need a maid and footman in here to tidy the mess.”
“Oh, Your Grace, there is no need to make a fuss. I’m quite uninjured.”
The duke ignored her as the butler left. He moved to a sideboard where he poured out a glass of brandy for himself. “I’m glad you aren’t any worse for wear.”
“As am I.” In fact, she did feel like a heroine in need of rescue, which is exactly what the duke had done. Another tiny piece of her heart went unexpectedly into his keeping.
In short order, the housekeeper brought in a tea service on a silver tray that she laid next to the first one on the table. “Oh, dearie, you had a narrow escape.”
“She did indeed,” Barr murmured. He brought over a whisky bottle then added a small measure into her teacup once the housekeeper poured out a serving. “No protests. It will calm your nerves.”
“That it will, Your Grace.” Mrs. Braxton pressed a cool cloth to Cate’s forehead. “You are a bit flushed, so what you’ve been through must have been quite exciting.”
Did she refer to the mirror crashing or the wild coupling she’d shared with the duke not an hour past?
Regardless, she refused to look at him for fear they would give themselves away.
Instead, she peered up into the housekeeper’s face.
“I appreciate your tending to me.” In fact, the coolness from the wet cloth felt heavenly on her skin.
“But I’m fine. Truly.” When she took a sip from her tea, she coughed from the addition of the whiskey. “God, that’s horrible.”
Both the duke and Mrs. Braxton chuckled.
Barr flashed a grin. “You learn to develop a taste for it.” He winked. “I’ll call for my carriage. Perhaps it’s best to take up the task of translation tomorrow. Today has been far too exciting, I think.”
That was an understatement.