Chapter Two #2
“We have a fine cook. Don’t we, Marcus?” Cate added, glancing at her brother with a smile. He did not venture a response. “Edith, I thought you might take a day or two off before you begin cataloguing the library.”
“That’s kind of you, but I think I should rather get to work right away.”
“Well, certainly, the choice is yours, but I thought…”
“It will not be an easy job, Miss Hayton,” Marcus interrupted, cutting across Cate’s sentence.
He made himself glance over and meet Miss Hayton’s eyes.
“The library has been neglected for decades, likely more. My father collected books, as I imagine you already know, but he certainly did not implement any cataloguing system or organisation at all. The library is a disgrace.”
Miss Hayton held his gaze, drawing her lower lip between her teeth, and the candlelight reflected in her spectacles. As he watched, they slid down her nose once more, and she automatically adjusted them, pushing them back up.
The arms are loose, he thought. A tightened screw here and there would make them sit more securely on her face.
“I am grateful for this employment,” Miss Hayton responded calmly. “I love books. I love libraries, and I enjoy a challenge.”
“Save your gratitude until you see the place.”
“Oh, I have never been stingy with my gratitude,” Miss Hayton laughed, reaching for her wine. “I don’t intend to start now.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I thought it was customary to readjust one’s opinions and manners to fit in with a new place and position.”
Miss Hayton blinked, but to her credit, did not break.
“Oh? What an interesting outlook. I can’t say that I agree with it.”
To Marcus’ surprise, his lips twitched, wanting to smile. He powered through the urge, however, and merely lifted his own glass of wine.
“We are already disagreeing, Miss Hayton. Not an auspicious start.”
Cate glanced anxiously between them, nerves rolling off her like water.
Had his sister always been so nervous, so on edge? He couldn’t remember. Surely, he should be able to remember. She was his sister, after all.
My only sibling left.
That thought made Marcus’ chest constrict so tightly that he could hardly breathe.
It took a moment to work through the feeling, to remind himself that he could breathe, even if he felt as if he could not.
In through the nose, out through the mouth, again and again until the anxiety receded.
He could feel Cate’s eyes on him. Did she know what he was thinking?
No, she couldn’t. Cate was clever enough, but the past few years seemed to have dulled her sensibilities.
That is my fault, too.
Silence rushed in after this comment. Marcus glanced around the table, wondering whether he would let the quiet continue because that would be easier, after all.
Instead, he found his gaze straying to Miss Hayton once more.
“Tell me, Miss Hayton,” he heard himself say. “Are you really fluent in Latin and Greek, or is that something my dear sister made up to convince me that you were the perfect choice for this position?”
Cate drew in a shocked breath. “Marcus!”
He ignored her, shifting to face Miss Hayton. Lifting his eyebrows, he waited for a response.
There was certainly a grim sort of malice to it all. Marcus could see himself doing it all, saying sharp, cruel things to make people blink and step back. It always sent a shiver of self-hatred down his spine, but it was good to feel something, even if it was the wrong thing to feel.
Miss Hayton only blinked back at him.
“I learned Latin when I was ten years old,” she responded coolly.
“I have read Greek since I was twelve. My father was an academic man. Sometimes, it seemed that he was blind to everything but his studies. While that attitude had its drawbacks, it did mean that I was able to get an excellent education, Your Grace.”
“Really? And you’ve read Homer?”
She gave a short laugh. “What classical study would not include Homer?”
He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Then what do you think of Homer’s thought that the first and best victory is to conquer ourselves?”
Miss Hayton pursed her lips. “It’s a fine sentiment, but not, I think, spoken by Homer. No, I believe that is Plato. So, either you have your poets and philosophers tangled up, or you are testing me.”
Marcus said nothing. Indeed, it had been a test and judging by the baleful glare his sister shot him, she guessed that it was a test, too.
He gave a begrudging smile. “Your education was extensive indeed, then.”
“Mm-hm. If you’d like to discuss Plato, however, I’ve read his works, of course. And Aristotle, and Pythagoras, and…”
“Yes, yes, very well done, Miss Hayton,” he interrupted. “Since dinner is all but over, we should discuss a few crucial matters before we all retire for the night. You’ll begin tomorrow at eight.”
“Oh, Marcus, I was trying to convince Edith to take a few days to rest before she got started,” Cate muttered, pouting. He ignored her, leaning forward and meeting Edith’s eye.
“Mrs. Reynolds will show you to the library,” he continued, meeting Miss Hayton’s eye to ensure that she understood.
“I have no idea how long this cataloguing will take, and I shall let you be the best judge of that, but I shall expect a detailed assessment within one month. Those books are valuable, of sentimental worth if not literal worth. Treat them carefully.”
“I would never treat a book any other way,” she responded.
Cate shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. Seeming to gather her courage, she leaned forward, resting her arm gently on Marcus’ forearm. The action appeared to cost her a good deal of effort, and Marcus frowned.
At one time, Cate and I were the best of friends. We talked and laughed together, embraced, walked with arms around each other, as siblings should. I used to carry her on my back when she was tired.
When did we become so distant from each other? Like strangers?
However it had happened, whenever it had happened, and Marcus knew that it was his fault. There was no doubt about that.
“Edith is a guest,” Cate murmured. “Not an employee.”
Marcus’ gaze flickered over to Miss Hayton, but her eyes shifted away.
She was an employee. He was under no illusions as to why she was here.
Indeed, Miss Hayton was a friend of Cate’s, and they had never stopped exchanging letters, but there was no getting away from the fact that Miss Hayton was in a dire situation.
Doubtless, she had no money and had run out of friends.
Well, almost out of friends. She had Cate, at least.
“Please feel at relative ease in the house,” he continued, meeting Miss Hayton’s eye once more.
“You’ll take your meals with us, Cate would plague me if that were not allowed, and the servants will attend you if need be.
Make yourself at home, but be aware that I value my solitude.
I have work to do during the day, and I value peace.
There’s no need to creep around like a little mouse, assuming you stay away from places like my study and my chambers. ”
“Your Grace, why on earth would I be near your chambers?”
He jolted, eyes shooting to her face. “I beg your pardon?”
Miss Hayton widened her eyes. “Why, I would surely never be near such a place, would I? You need not worry.”
He grunted. “It does not matter. You take my meaning, then? I value privacy, and I appreciate my solitude. I’m sure a clever young woman like yourself can understand that, and act accordingly.”
Miss Hayton nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. I am grateful for this position, your Grace. Make no mistake about that. I shall do my best to make your life easier by cataloguing your books, and naturally, there’ll be no need to disturb you regarding the matter. You have my word on that.”
Well, that was unexpected. Cate continued to glare at him, and he suspected she would scold him later for being so harsh and blunt.
Perhaps I could have been kinder. Miss Hayton had certainly suffered. And she has only just got here.
But then, isn’t it best to set the rules down at once, so she can understand? To avoid misunderstandings later?
Besides, Miss Hayton did not seem offended, angry or even upset.
She accepted his words with ease, as if negotiating a business deal.
Perhaps that was how she saw this whole situation: a business transaction, one that all of them would benefit from.
Cate would have company, Marcus’ library would finally be catalogued and arranged, the last of his father’s influence tidied away.
And Miss Hayton would have a roof over her head, food to eat, safety, security, company, and a wage at the end of it.
“I’m glad,” Marcus responded bluntly. “And on that note, I shall leave you, ladies, to your conversation.”
“You aren’t coming to the drawing room with us?” Cate asked, visibly crestfallen.
He gave a tight smile, rising to his feet. “No, my dear. I think it’s unwise to stand on ceremony in this situation. Goodnight, Cate. Goodnight, Miss Hayton.”
Miss Hayton rose when he did and extended a hand. It took him a moment to understand that she wanted to shake his hand. While he was wavering, staring down at her upturned palm, she spoke.
“In the spirit of not standing on ceremony, perhaps you should call me Edith.”
He dragged up his gaze from her hand to meet her eyes.
“Perhaps not,” he responded tightly, and turned on his heel, leaving her with her hand outstretched.