Page 19 of A Deal with an Artistic Lady (Marriage Deals #2)

Hannah sat up in her bed, accepting that it might just be impossible to sleep. Her mind was still occupied, gallivanting back and forth, recalling the fondness of greeting old friends at the Camden town-house; the intimate dance with Caleb; the familiar, enjoyable dance with Nathaniel; the awkwardness of the house-visit proposition from Nathaniel and Sophia; the stoic meal next to Anne; the secretive discussion with Sophia when she revealed her affections for Albert. There was so much to think about – so many emotional pursuits and conflicting feelings pressuring her mind.

Hannah stood and pulled on her nightgown so that if any staff around the house should be up, she was suitably dressed for the dead of night. She pushed open her bedroom door and carefully tiptoed along the landing to the stairs. The only light came from the moon, which shone through the windows above her, casting mystical shadows across the marble hallway. Hannah knew the perfect place to be on a sleepless night. She scampered across the cold hallway and pushed open the heavy wooden door of the library.

Even as the door opened, Hannah registered that something was abnormal – the room was lit with a low glow from a single candle and as her eyes adjusted, she became aware that Caleb was there. He was sitting on the sofa, with a book in his hands, another on his lap and one more by his side.

Hannah stood entirely still in the doorway as she noticed him there and Caleb looked up. Their eyes locked on one another and neither said a word. The moment went on for longer than was natural. Hannah observed how dark, strong, and mysterious Caleb looked in the combination of candlelight and a sliver of moonlight from a small skylight above. She was accustomed to seeing him in a dark suit but he, too, had clearly been to bed and abandoned the mission, so he was wearing a white linen bed shirt, his hair slightly mussed and a casual relaxed appeal that Hannah had never witnessed in him before.

Hannah forgot at that moment, that she was standing before him in her nightgown; white and flowing, her hair draped over her shoulder in a plait Lucy fashioned for her every night to sleep in so that her hair would not tangle. Caleb thought that she perhaps looked the prettiest he had ever seen her. It was an effort to coax his eyes away from her face – so he did not.

The moment felt so loaded with possibility. Hannah’s heart hammered at the inappropriateness of it – alone, in the middle of the night, in their bedclothes, in the library. Whatever would the Dowager Duchess say if she walked in?

Hannah wondered if she should apologise and exit the library – whether she was intruding upon Caleb’s private reading time. For all she knew, perhaps it was habitual for him to frequent the library late at night.

‘Won’t you join me?’ Caleb broke the silence, moving up on the sofa and picking up the book to make space for her.

Hannah bowed her head. ‘Thank you…’ and made her way across the room, sitting cautiously next to him.

‘I couldn’t sleep…’ Hannah confessed, playing with the skirts of her nightgown.

‘We encountered the same obstacle,’ Caleb acquiesced.

‘What are you reading?’ Hannah leaned to look at his book and Caleb tilted it to show her the cover.

Hannah read aloud; ‘ Elements of Agricultural Chemistry by Sir Humphry Davy.’

Caleb looked to her for her reaction, expecting her to turn up her nose.

‘Is it interesting?’ Hannah asked, keenly.

‘It is quite insightful,’ Caleb concluded.

‘There are so many books…’ Hannah looked up and around her, like an awestruck child.

‘My father was a great collector and an avid reader. I inherited the library from him, but have also continued to populate the shelves with newer tomes as books I am interested in are released…’

‘I love it here,’ Hannah smiled, satisfied.

‘What is it you like to read?’ Caleb returned the interest.

‘I am fond of the poetry of Keats, and obviously you are already aware of my love of Art and so I enjoy books on the topic, also…’

‘Yes, this Art… ’ Caleb paused and Hannah’s heart beat so fast. She feared he was going to announce the abolishment of her Art Studio or declare that creating Art was not appropriate for a Duchess.

‘I am interested,’ he continued, ‘in how your passion for Art came about?’

Hannah breathed a sigh of relief and her eyes wandered off into the distance as she remembered.

‘I suppose I was a very young child when my governess set me up with some paints to make pictures with. Mother says from that day on I no longer wanted to play with my toys, potter in the garden, bake cakes, dance or learn to sew. I only ever wanted to paint!’

‘I hear rumour that you are very talented.’ Caleb stated.

Hannah felt a blush burn her cheeks. It was not a question and so she did not respond.

‘Are the rumours true?’

Hannah turned her whole body toward him and authentically postured her predicament.

‘I love to paint – it is my passion and I would spend every minute creating art if my lifestyle permitted it. Friends declare I am skilled, but oftentimes friends express sentiments out of kindness.’

‘Do you believe your work is impressive?’ Caleb asked her and she could tell by the intensity of his eyes that he wanted to know truly.

Hannah dropped her eyes to her lap.

‘I believe so,’ she squeaked – it felt so unnatural to her to be in any way conceited, but his face requested honesty and so that is what she delivered.

‘Yet you seem sad about it,’ Caleb queried.

‘My mother always reprimanded me for wasting time on Art. And I believe your mother would agree with her – she does not consider my expression of creativity to be fitting for a Duchess,’ Hannah choked the last words, feeling that Caleb must be aware of his mother’s cruel castigation.

Caleb leaned further forward and confided ‘Frankly speaking, it is none of the Dowager Duchess’s business what you do with your free time.’

Hannah’s eyes sparkled at this rebellious streak and the stark realisation that Caleb was siding with her, over his mother.

‘She is not happy you permitted me to transform the parlour room into an Art Studio…’ she ventured.

Caleb leaned right up to Hannah’s face and whispered ‘It’s my house.’

Hannah giggled at the childishness this comment exhibited and Caleb smiled with her, excited that they had found common ground where they could laugh together.

He had never noticed the little dimple that appeared on her cheek when she laughed as organically as this. It occurred to him that he had only seen her formal smiles and otherwise seen her face worried by expressions of perplexity and concern. This was a proper, genuine giggle and he adored it.

Caleb lifted his hand very slowly and gently to her cheek and grazed her soft skin with the warmth of his large hand.

Hannah felt tingles buzzing all over her body as Caleb brought his strong, sincere touch to her face. Her eyes fluttered closed, indulging in the affection and she slowly leaned her head toward his hand, relinquishing all formality and abandoning herself to his protectiveness.

Caleb did not think about what he was about to do – his instincts completely took control, as he leaned closer still and pressed his lips against Hannah’s.

Though she had almost known it would come, when she felt Caleb’s warm lips meet hers, she breathed deeply in. She realised at that moment of connection that she had been wishing it to happen whenever she had been in his presence. His lips were so gentle and soft.

Caleb felt such a release at finally being able to kiss her. It felt so right in that loaded moment and he basked in the delight of being so close to her, breathing her in. It occurred to him suddenly, that this was not in his plan. If he wanted to retain a formal relationship as Duke and Duchess, he was confusing things by involving his emotions. To give in to his primal urges was to fail at his ducal duty – he had to maintain professionalism and stoicism if he were to continue taking his role seriously.

Hannah didn’t want the moment to pass and she pressed her face slightly closer to him, to intensify the feeling but as she did so Caleb suddenly pulled away.

He came very quickly to standing, his eyes wide with panic. As he looked down at her, he was struck by the fear of ending up in just the way his parents had; that he might love her, get hurt, lose respect for her, and inadvertently commit himself to the imprisonment of a life filled with resentment and loathing. He didn’t want any of that. He felt he should never have crossed that boundary and let his heart convince his head to relax and invite her in. In that moment, Caleb felt that could spell disaster for the Montwood dynasty.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Caleb choked, as he scrambled for the door. Hannah couldn’t speak – she felt a sudden isolating chill as she lost the warmth from his face next to hers.

As Caleb left the room, he let the door fall shut behind him – the draught from the hallway gushing in extinguished the flame of the candle that sat solo on the table next to where he had been sitting.

Hannah was alone in the dark of the library with only the moonlight shining in upon her. She slowly brought her fingers to her lips, half-disbelieving that he had even been there; that they had even kissed.

She felt so confused – he had initiated that connection, yet he had been so desperate to break away from her. She worried that she had done something wrong, although she knew instinctively that - guided by her intuition – it had felt as right for him as it had for her. It was a moment of perfection and it felt impossible he hadn’t mutually experienced that. Then, she countered, it must be something else. Perhaps a fear of his mother’s wrath or affection for Lucinda that he had been fighting…

No reasoning made sense. She could not understand how he had been so tender and present and then switched into a whirlwind of denial.

One thing she did know – she wanted him to kiss her again.