Chapter Eleven #3
‘Interesting! It looks nothing like it does with the naked eye,’ he murmured.
‘That’s what I love about it. Microscopes have benefited from the manufacture of high-quality lenses.
I’ve always wanted one.’ She was grateful for his generosity.
She’d never had the benefit of using one and had never been able to afford one on her own.
It was thrilling and she’d marveled over the device ever since she’d opened the wooden box and removed it.
She wondered if she’d ever get over her fascination.
She’d been fortunate to get one so swiftly and he hadn’t protested the cost.
He looked away from the microscope to glance at the tidy row of slides she’d prepared with interest. ‘What else can you put under here?’
‘Many things,’ she said. ‘But preparing the specimens for viewing is the true art. It makes the difference between seeing something of interest or nothing at all. Just blur and shadow.’
She slipped a new slide beneath the lens and stepped back. ‘Here. Look at this.’
He bent to the microscope again.
‘What is it?’
‘An eyelash.’
Looking into the eyepiece, his voice was muffled. ‘Yours?’
‘Yes.’
He was focused on the slide. ‘It’s oddly elegant.’
‘Even the smallest parts of us are more than they seem,’ she said.
He looked up slowly, his gaze resting on her face with a intensity. ‘And to think,’ he said, voice quiet, ‘I came here to show you something.’
His look and nearness made her senses spin. ‘Now I’m curious.’ Her voice sounded shaky to her ears.
He smiled broadly and her heart thumped an irregular beat. He suddenly appeared like a cat with a bowl of cream, and she was curious. What was on his mind?
‘Come along and I’ll show you.’ He extended his arm.
Was he taking her outside? She felt like a breathless girl of eighteen, and she hesitated only a moment before resting her hand lightly on the fabric of his coat.
Beneath his sleeve, she could feel his warmth and solid strength.
He did not move immediately, only looked down at where her fingers touched his sleeve.
Then, as if recalling himself, he guided her from the room.
They walked in silence down the corridor. When they reached the end of the hall, he paused before a door she did not recognize. He opened it and stepped aside to let her enter first.
It was a modest chamber, plain, yet clean and well-appointed. A bed stood against one wall, a chest of drawers beside it. The air smelled faintly of lemon polish and oiled wood. Clearly, it was not occupied.
She turned to him, brows drawing together. ‘What is this place?’
He stepped inside, his eyes not leaving hers.
‘It’s yours.’
A stillness settled between them. As she looked around the room, her mind whirled with confusion and a sickening disappointment. ‘I… I don’t understand.’
Was he having her bedchamber moved? Was he upset she hadn’t shared his bed? They hadn’t yet been married for a full week. Had he given up on the other part of their agreement, the one for an heir?
She glanced around the room again, confusion rising in her chest. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper. ‘Am I to switch bedchambers?’
He turned towards her fully, his tone immediate and steady. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Why would you think that?’
She couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
She straightened and smoothed her skirts in an attempt to collect her composure.
He stepped further into the room and gestured around with a sweep of his hand.
‘This isn’t to replace your chamber but for all your items. I’ve noticed there is not enough space for your crates of shells, and your books are tucked wherever they fit.
And now your microscope. This is a dedicated space for your scientific work. ’
He glanced at the bed and dresser.
‘These will be removed. Shelves will be installed, perhaps a long worktable by the window for natural light. This will be your study. Your domain. I have mine—why shouldn’t you have yours?’ He looked to her, suddenly uncertain. ‘What do you think?’
What did she think?
She was speechless. Whatever composure she’d collected crumpled.
The weight of the gesture caught in her throat.
No one had ever carved out space for her.
Not once in all her years. Even at her childhood home, her mother would never allow it.
She’d always kept her most precious shells packed with paper and stored in chests in the attic.
Her books had been crammed on one shelf in her room and those that overflowed were hidden beneath her bed.
Her scientific endeavors had been dismissed as impractical, or worse, unfeminine.
As for purchasing a microscope, it had been a dream.
Until now. Her appreciation for what he offered only served to increase the attraction she’d felt for him earlier.
Her lips parted and a soft breath escaped. Heart pounding, she looked up at him. ‘I… I—’
‘I know. It’s not big enough.’
She couldn’t get the words out fast enough. There was only one way to show him. She crossed the room in two quick steps and threw herself into his arms, burying her face against the hard plane of his chest. ‘It’s perfect. Thank you, thank you, my lord.’
He stiffened.
A moment passed. Then two. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close.
His body was solid and warm, and his breath stirred tendrils of hair at her temple.
Her pulse thudded wildly. She tilted her head up and met his gaze.
His face was inches above hers. This close, she could see the faint creases around his dark eyes.
And something else within the dark depths—a flash of undisguised desire.
A twinge of pleasure went through her, igniting an instant heat.
At that moment, she wanted him to kiss her.
Then he came alive and she had what she wanted.
Pulling her closer, he lifted her to her toes and kissed her with scalding heat and urgency.
She melted against him and returned his kiss.
Her lips parted and his tongue swept inside to meet hers.
Her world faded beneath the onslaught of his lips.
Her defenses crumbled completely. All she could think of was his scent, his heat, his touch.
A delicious need unfurled within her, which had nothing to do with gratitude and everything to do with the man holding her.
Her fingers curled in the fabric of his coat as he deepened the kiss.
His fingers skimmed down her arms then his strong hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer.
Her breasts brushed against the hardness of his chest and her breath caught.
It was too easy to lose herself to the moment, to forget the time and place and kiss him in an empty room in the big house.
Mrs Hanning burst into the room with two burly footmen in tow. ‘My lord!’ She froze, her face turning beet red, as she spotted them. ‘Oh! Pardon me!’
Ralston’s arms fell away from Nora. She stepped back at once, breathless, her lips tingling from his heated kisses. She smoothed her skirts and gathered her composure. ‘It’s all right, Mrs Hanning.’
The housekeeper cleared her throat. ‘The footmen are here at your request, my lord. To remove the furnishings.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Hanning,’ Ralston said.
With a brief nod, Mrs Hanning ushered the footmen inside to work.
Ralston stepped into the hallway, and Nora followed, her cheeks still flushed. They stood in silence for a moment. She was uncertain of what to say. She decided on honesty. ‘I’m grateful. As I said, I’ve never had a room for my work.’
He looked at her for a long beat, then cleared his throat. ‘No need to thank me. I’m merely upholding our agreement.’
The words landed like a stone in her stomach. Whatever special moment had passed between them dissipated at the mention of their agreement. It was as if the air cooled and he’d returned to the formal Earl. The proper, collected man who she’d first met in the country.
She told herself she should be pleased. He was keeping his word and sticking to his promises.
Then why did she feel an odd sense of disappointment?