Read Online Miss Lacey's Love Letters by Caylen McQueen - Free Book Online
Authors: Caylen McQueen
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that."
"And what of you? Has sleep eluded you as well?"
"My waking hours are a bit unconventional. I will still be awake for another hour or two."
"I...see." Valeria eyed her candle, and eyed the door. She was wearing a borrowed nightrail, sheer and white, and her dark hair was spilling over her shoulders. It seemed inappropriate to linger, and yet, she was anchored to the ground. "Should I excuse myself?"
"That isn't necessary. The library is large enough for both of us."
"So it is." She took a few timid steps in his direction. "What are you reading?"
"Nothing fascinating, I'm afraid. I am sure I will not finish it." He turned his gaze to a nearby shelf. "I might be trading it for another book."
"If I wanted to read a book, what would you recommend?"
"I don't know." Noah pinched his chin as he pondered her question. "Henry Fielding's Tom Jones is a favorite of mine."
"I've never read it." Against her better judgment, Valeria's eyes wandered to his chest. They lingered on his bronze skin and muscular neck before landing on a long scar above his collarbone.
"You've noticed the scar?"
Valeria's heart momentarily stopped. If he knew she was looking at his scar, he must have known she was eyeing his bare skin. "I... um..."
"The recklessness of boyhood," he explained. "A friend accidentally sliced me with a sword when I was very young."
"That doesn't sound like a very good friend."
"Well... as I said, it was an accident. There was a lot of blood, but no lasting damage." As he studied her face, amusement danced in Noah's eyes. "What of you, Miss Woll? Do you have any scars?"
"One. On my ankle." She had half a mind to lift up her nightrail and show it to him, but that would have been far too scandalous.
"Oh? And how did you acquire your badge of pain?"
"A riding accident when I was fourteen." His burning gaze was making her nervous, so she tucked a black lock of hair behind her ear. "I am prone to riding accidents. I am afraid I might be a bit clumsy."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that." He must have known he was making her uncomfortable, because he turned his attention to his book. "A bit of clumsiness can be adorable."
"A-adorable?!" she sputtered. "Clumsiness is hardly adorable when it ends in pain."
"Perhaps you are right."
Valeria hurried away from Noah's table, went to one of the shelves, and scanned the books as quickly as she could. She needed to select something, anything, to bring their strange encounter to an end.
"Miss Woll?"
"Hmm?"
"Miss... Woll..." The compliment was on the tip of his tongue, but he could not bring himself to say it. "If you're looking for a copy of Tom Jones , I would be happy to assist you."
"I'm not looking for anything in particular." She thought she could feel an invisible hand clamping down on her stomach. It was an uncomfortable situation, to be sure, but she had never been more nervous in her life. What was it about Noah Worthington that made her so ill at ease? "You know, I was not entirely honest when I said I was a hopeless spinster. I was proposed to not long ago."
Valeria immediately wondered why she felt compelled to tell him that. Did she want him to think she was still a desirable woman?
"Oh? And what was your answer?"
"I haven't given him an answer."
"I see." Noah leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and watched her unabashedly. "Well, any man would be lucky to have you."
"The Duke of Wellington's wife was three and thirty when they were finally married," Valeria said. "I don't think he liked her, but that's really beside the point."
"You needn't make excuses for your age, Miss Woll. I am a bachelor at nine and forty. To me, you are still quite young."
When she saw him rise from his chair and move toward her, Valeria's throat constricted, making it impossible to respond. She could see him standing beside her, but she did not dare to look in his direction.
"You are a lovely woman." His voice was barely more than a whisper. "A lovely, lovely
"And what of you? Has sleep eluded you as well?"
"My waking hours are a bit unconventional. I will still be awake for another hour or two."
"I...see." Valeria eyed her candle, and eyed the door. She was wearing a borrowed nightrail, sheer and white, and her dark hair was spilling over her shoulders. It seemed inappropriate to linger, and yet, she was anchored to the ground. "Should I excuse myself?"
"That isn't necessary. The library is large enough for both of us."
"So it is." She took a few timid steps in his direction. "What are you reading?"
"Nothing fascinating, I'm afraid. I am sure I will not finish it." He turned his gaze to a nearby shelf. "I might be trading it for another book."
"If I wanted to read a book, what would you recommend?"
"I don't know." Noah pinched his chin as he pondered her question. "Henry Fielding's Tom Jones is a favorite of mine."
"I've never read it." Against her better judgment, Valeria's eyes wandered to his chest. They lingered on his bronze skin and muscular neck before landing on a long scar above his collarbone.
"You've noticed the scar?"
Valeria's heart momentarily stopped. If he knew she was looking at his scar, he must have known she was eyeing his bare skin. "I... um..."
"The recklessness of boyhood," he explained. "A friend accidentally sliced me with a sword when I was very young."
"That doesn't sound like a very good friend."
"Well... as I said, it was an accident. There was a lot of blood, but no lasting damage." As he studied her face, amusement danced in Noah's eyes. "What of you, Miss Woll? Do you have any scars?"
"One. On my ankle." She had half a mind to lift up her nightrail and show it to him, but that would have been far too scandalous.
"Oh? And how did you acquire your badge of pain?"
"A riding accident when I was fourteen." His burning gaze was making her nervous, so she tucked a black lock of hair behind her ear. "I am prone to riding accidents. I am afraid I might be a bit clumsy."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that." He must have known he was making her uncomfortable, because he turned his attention to his book. "A bit of clumsiness can be adorable."
"A-adorable?!" she sputtered. "Clumsiness is hardly adorable when it ends in pain."
"Perhaps you are right."
Valeria hurried away from Noah's table, went to one of the shelves, and scanned the books as quickly as she could. She needed to select something, anything, to bring their strange encounter to an end.
"Miss Woll?"
"Hmm?"
"Miss... Woll..." The compliment was on the tip of his tongue, but he could not bring himself to say it. "If you're looking for a copy of Tom Jones , I would be happy to assist you."
"I'm not looking for anything in particular." She thought she could feel an invisible hand clamping down on her stomach. It was an uncomfortable situation, to be sure, but she had never been more nervous in her life. What was it about Noah Worthington that made her so ill at ease? "You know, I was not entirely honest when I said I was a hopeless spinster. I was proposed to not long ago."
Valeria immediately wondered why she felt compelled to tell him that. Did she want him to think she was still a desirable woman?
"Oh? And what was your answer?"
"I haven't given him an answer."
"I see." Noah leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and watched her unabashedly. "Well, any man would be lucky to have you."
"The Duke of Wellington's wife was three and thirty when they were finally married," Valeria said. "I don't think he liked her, but that's really beside the point."
"You needn't make excuses for your age, Miss Woll. I am a bachelor at nine and forty. To me, you are still quite young."
When she saw him rise from his chair and move toward her, Valeria's throat constricted, making it impossible to respond. She could see him standing beside her, but she did not dare to look in his direction.
"You are a lovely woman." His voice was barely more than a whisper. "A lovely, lovely
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