Chapter 13 #3
“I am not accepting anything when you are intentionally ignoring the broader economic framework!” she snapped, pulling the volume back toward herself to keep him from shutting it.
“Seraphina, let go of the cover —”
“You let go!”
She tugged. He held fast, intending only to stabilize the text, but neither yielded. They pulled in two different directions for a whole ten seconds, before a crack ripped through their squabbling.
The sound was shockingly loud in the library.
The aged, dry stitching along the spine gave way entirely. The leather split down the center, and a dozen loose, yellowed pages fluttered helplessly through the air like dying birds, tumbling over the gallery railing and drifting down to the ground floor below.
Seraphina froze. The front cover remained in her hand, while William was left holding the shattered spine and the back half of the text.
Silence descended upon the gallery.
William slowly looked down at the ruined, split binding in his hands, then up at her. His face was a mask of disbelief.
“Do you have any idea what this is?” William asked.
Seraphina swallowed hard, her confidence suddenly evaporating. Her sisters had warned her before that her stubbornness would eventually cause her some trouble.
“It was not my intention, Your Grace.”
“It is a first-edition 1792 annotated registry,” William said. “Signed by William Pitt the Younger. It belonged to my grandfather. It is irreplaceable.”
“I apologize, but...” Seraphina stammered, looking from the torn cover in her hand to the loose pages scattered across the lower floor. “You... you pulled it!”
“I held it!” William exclaimed, his composure cracking into outright frustration. He let out an exasperated breath, running a hand over his face. “You pulled it toward yourself like a child fighting over a toy!”
Seraphina opened her mouth to defend herself, but as she looked at him, the immaculate Duke of Norwyn, standing on a gallery holding a broken book with a look of pure, utter betrayal, something unexpected bubbled up in her chest.
It was a ridiculous, terrible moment to feel it, but the absurdity of the situation struck her. He was so intensely flustered, his tidy, perfectly ordered world momentarily shattered by a torn spine.
A small squeak escaped her throat as she tried to suppress a laugh.
William’s eyes snapped to hers. “Are you... are you amused?”
Seraphina pressed her lips tightly together, shaking her head violently, but her shoulders gave a tiny, betraying twitch. The pink flush in her cheeks deepened, not from embarrassment this time, but from the heroic effort it was taking not to burst into full, ringing laughter.
William stared at her, an incredulous groan rumbling deep in his chest. He tossed the remaining half of the book onto a nearby reading table and threw his hands up in exasperation.
“That is it,” William declared. “It is nearly one in the morning. I am calling an end to this madness. You are going to your wing.”
“Your Grace, I have an edition myself. I can replace—”
“Seraphina, you are going to bed.”
“I am not going to bed,” Seraphina said, managing finally to master her voice, though her eyes were still dancing with amusement. “I am not tired. I intend to stay right here.”
“Seraphina, we have been traveling for nearly two days,” William said, taking a step toward the stairs and gesturing for her to precede him. “You are exhausted, I am exhausted, and you have already destroyed an eighteenth-century artifact. Go to sleep.”
“I am perfectly awake,” she argued, crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest and remaining firmly planted on the upper gallery. “I have two more texts I need to consult for my next column. I will go to my room when I am finished.”
William closed his eyes for a long, suffering second. He looked as though he wanted nothing more than to pick her up, carry her across the estate, and lock her in her bedchambers. But instead, he let out another defeated groan.
“You are, without a doubt, the most infuriating woman I have ever met,” he muttered.
Without waiting for her reply, William turned on his heel and strode down the iron staircase. He marched across the ground level, ignoring the scattered pages on the floor, his posture rigid with frustration as he headed straight for the doors.
Seraphina stepped up to the gallery railing, leaning over the wood with a bright smile spreading across her face.
“Good night, Your Grace!” she called out after him, her voice echoing sweetly through the tall rafters. “Again, I apologize for the book!”
William did not stop. He did not turn around. He simply stepped out into the corridor and pulled the doors shut behind him.
Seraphina leaned back against the railing, a giggle finally escaping her lips. Her heart was beating fast, her mind thoroughly awake. He had called her out on the Eden Treaty, yes, but as she looked down at the empty room, she knew she had rattled his legendary composure to pieces.
Smiling to herself, she turned back to the shelves to find another book.