All About Seduction(62)

“I have ideas to make the machinery more efficient.” Jack bit his lip. “If I cannot convince some in London to implement my work, perhaps Mr. Broadhurst would let me rebuild a few pieces. I could save him money.”

It wasn’t how he wanted to share his inventions. He’d wanted to gain the backing of a company already engaged in making mill machinery, be given license to build his machinery, test it, patent it, and sell to any mill. Or he’d hoped to make enough from mill machinery to follow his true interest in building mechanized carriages one day. Horses were too expensive for villagers to keep, and in crowded towns like Manchester or even London, a horseless carriage would be so much more practical. But all that was nothing as he watched dismay spread over Caroline’s face. “Say something,” he said.

“I’m thinking.” She turned her face toward his, her blue eyes serious. “Can you write at all?”

He hated that he’d disappointed her, but it was better now than later. “I know my letters. I just . . .” Would she help him? “If you teach me, I could learn.”

Her forehead crinkled. Then her gaze slid down and away. “I’m sorry. I am no tutor, and between the mill and the guests, I couldn’t spare the time.”

Jack closed his eyes. She was doing so much for him already; he hadn’t the right to expect more. “It doesn’t matter.”

She shook her head. “I will find easy books for you to read, and if you can master them, we will ask the vicar to give you lessons.”

“He won’t. I’ve asked him before.”

Caroline’s brow lowered and she bit her lip.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated. “I don’t need to be a clerk. I can do other things. Do not put yourself out.”

Her gaze tipped toward him.

“I’m good with machinery,” he said when she didn’t speak.

“I know.” She still stood in front of him but had gone far away, as if he’d become too much trouble to her and she wanted out of his presence. His leg shook as he took the remaining few steps. His arms felt like noodles. She skipped up the stairs to fetch his other crutch, making his efforts to tackle the stairs seem puny in comparison. She handed him the crutch. “We will speak more of your future tomorrow, but you should rest now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered as he wondered if he had lost her respect. He had to end this farce soon. For his sanity if nothing else, he needed to remember what it was like to live without servants, without his own room, fire, and bed. Without Caroline’s soft hands touching him, without her concerned eyes following him, and her voice flowing over him as she read to him.





Chapter 13



Caroline pulled another book off the shelf in the library. She searched for one suitable for a beginning reader, but even as she opened a couple of her childhood favorites from home, she found them far too advanced. As she flipped through book after book, her head spun.

The door clicked open and she started. Mr. Berkley entered the room and swiftly shut the door—then locked it. A jolt hit her in the chest. She had almost forgotten that she’d hinted for him to meet her here.

“Can you not find a book to entertain?” he asked.

She looked at the stack of discarded books on the library table. “Nothing is catching my fancy today.”

“Perhaps, I can be of assistance.”

“Perhaps,” said Caroline softly. A book for Jack would have to wait. “What did you have in mind?”

“Mr. Broadhurst is gone to the mill?”

“Yes, he always supervises the pay draws. He shan’t return anytime soon.” Apparently Mr. Broadhurst wouldn’t trust her to do that correctly.

Mr. Berkley’s lips disappeared into tiny lines as he smiled. She stared at his mouth as hers went dry.

He moved closer, and she returned the book in her hand to the shelf.

Her voice shook and she tried to gather herself before turning back around. She settled for what she hoped was a coy look over her shoulder. “Perhaps we could continue where we left off last night, before we were so rudely interrupted.”

He laughed, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. “I thought if you wanted to continue, you would find your way to my room.”

She’d intended to, but her courage had deserted her and she ended up in the breakfast room with Jack. But it hardly mattered now as Mr. Berkley kissed her neck. The library at least sported a sofa, and they could use that rather than the dining room table. Assuming things progressed that far. But they would. She ran her hands over the arms banding around her, and then with trembling fingers unbuttoned the neck of her gown.