“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he said truthfully. “If you need assistance with the orphanage, I’m happy to help, but if you’d rather do it on your own, I understand.”
“I have the generalities figured out. It’s the details. And I’d like your assistance, so thank you for offering.” She turned to him.
“Rather than just telling you?”
“Yes, exactly.”
They rode in comfortable silence as they rounded the bend and then made the short trek to Wesley House. As Quin pulled into the semicircular drive, the footmen came forward to hold the horses and help Catherine alight.
He followed, and soon he was leading her to the entrance. “Is my mother at home?” he inquired of the butler.
“Not yet, Your Grace. Shall I have her find you when she arrives?”
Quin could feel Catherine’s attention on his back. “Yes, we’ll take tea in the ivory parlor in the meantime.” As he led Catherine to the sitting room, he was careful to keep the door to the parlor wide open.
He gestured for her to take a seat. She did so, then leaned forward slightly. “You knew your mother wasn’t home.”
Quin shrugged. “Is that so terrible?”
“No. Not at all.”
Quin’s chest swelled with joy at her words. “And I’d be happy to show you the library once we finish tea, just in case you need more books.” He waggled a brow daringly, hinting at their first kiss.
“You know…” She lowered her chin. “You’re full of brilliant ideas today.”
“Just today?”
She shrugged. “A gentleman’s sense of self can be ever so fragile.” She grinned unrepentantly at her flirtatious barb.
“Is that the way you wish to play it? Very well, you’ve been warned.” He nodded at the maid as she set down a tea service on the table between them.
He turned to Catherine as she poured their tea, noting the way her eyes narrowed in challenge. It was fun to spar with her; she never ceased to come armed to a battle of wits.
Quin lifted his teacup in salute to Catherine. “You’re silent, which I find terrifying. What devious plans are you hatching?”
“None I will share before they are ready, but you’ll know”—she took a dainty sip of tea, her face a mask of innocence—“when you encounter them.”
“You’ll not fool me,” Quin replied.
“Challenge accepted,” she promised, returning his earlier words.
They finished their tea, and after Quin set his cup on the table, he stood, offering his hand to her. “Care to escape to the library?”
“Right now, anywhere is an escape!” Catherine stated with delight.
Quin led her from the salon and down the hall to the library, his heart pounding with anticipation. The salon was far more frequented by servants, leaving no place to steal a moment alone. But the library… He had a new appreciation for its size and shelving. Who would have thought a library could be the ideal location for tasting love? Of course, it was amusing that the place where he’d always found solace would also be where he first found love. Life was nothing if not ironic at times. The fates truly had a sense of humor.
He opened the door wide for Catherine and resisted the urge to close it after they entered. He wouldn’t risk Catherine’s reputation in that way.
“Did you ever finish those books you borrowed?” Quin inquired as Catherine walked ahead of him, her fingers brushing the spines of the tomes lining the wall as if touching the books allowed her a momentary escape.
He understood the sentiment.
“Not all of them. I’ve been a little preoccupied.” She looked over her shoulder. “But I will.”
He quickened his steps and came up behind her. He reached out, grasped her hand, and led her to the left behind a small border of shelves that made a small alcove. He nodded to the shelf at eye level and gently caressed the spine of a reddish leather-bound book with gold lettering.Gulliver’s Travels. “This one is my favorite.”
Catherine turned her full attention to the shelves, her gloved fingers skimming the spines as she read through the titles. “You like Byron?”