As always, he obliged.
They stepped over her belongings and crossed to the opposite side of the bed. Valentine picked up a drawer and slid it back into the table. Gathering her hairbrush and the ornate silver hand mirror that had once belonged to her mother, he set them down on top.
“Be careful, there is broken glass to the left,” he said, placing a guiding hand at her elbow. He inhaled deeply. “From the overwhelming scent of White Rose, I suspect it’s a perfume bottle.”
Ava peered at the shards of green glass on the floor. “Oh, hell’s bells.” She couldn’t help but groan with frustration. “You do realise how much it costs to shop at Floris. Well, the damage is done. I shall just have to purchase another.”
“It is your one and only indulgence,” he reminded her, the beginnings of a sinful smile touching his lips. “I hope you will allow me to purchase a replacement as a gift.”
“A gift?” She raised a coy brow. “And have everyone think I’m your mistress?”
His smile faded. “You know there is more to our relationship than that.”
“In what other capacity does a gentleman buy a lady perfume?”
Valentine stared at her. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. Eventually, he said, “I wish to buy you perfume regardless of how it looks. Now, is this the place you want to examine?” He stamped on the Turkish rug, seemed surprised at the hollow echo beneath his feet.
Ava knew she had been stalling. Part of her preferred to live in ignorance. She bent down, gestured for Valentine to step back while she moved the rug and raised the board. Relief flooded through her when she saw the jewelled boxes.
Lifting one out of the dusty narrow space, she handed it to Valentine. “Open it. Tell me it is full to the brim with minute gems.”
Dipping his fingers into the box, he withdrew a handful of tiny but vibrant stones. “They may be small but kept together in a box like this they look remarkable.”
“Most are worthless though they are priceless to me.”
“Then they belonged to your parents,” he said.
“My father mined every gem and crystal in that box.”
“Have you ever thought of making something with them?”
“I have many pieces of jewellery that far surpass anything one could make with those.”
“Singularly, they are too small to be of any use. But together the stones make a rather bold statement. You could set them into the back of a hand mirror. They would work equally well in a hair comb.”
Could he read her mind?
Did this marvellous man know her innermost desires, her secrets?
“I have various designs sketched. I take after my mother in that regard.” Ava had not mentioned her aspirations to another living soul. “She was the creative genius, my father the expert when it came to geology. He worked tirelessly to help her see her dreams realised, and she worshipped him for it.”
“And yet people showered him with praise for his beautiful creations.”
“My mother had no need for fame or notoriety. She loved her work and her family. That was enough.”
It would be more than enough for Ava, too.
Valentine’s gaze turned curious. “You say you have sketched designs, yet I sense you have not taken the next step to develop the craft.”
“I may attend a meeting of ladies who crave enlightenment, but it is still very much a man’s world. Before one might begin, there are questions regarding premises and tools. I would need contacts abroad, need to learn about the importing of goods, perhaps charter a ship.”
He shrugged. “All of which are feasible for a woman with your intelligence.”
From a kneeling position, Ava looked up at him. Love filled her heart. The need to tell him came in a euphoric rush. Lord knows how she kept it at bay.
“I would happily assist you in your endeavour,” he added.
“You have always been kind and complimentary, even when I have acted like a complete buffoon.”