Page 34 of An Enchanting Kiss (Captivating Kisses #5)

“I will know in my heart what to do,” Lady Lia said, her tone resolute.

Rupert wished to squash all this talk of marriage and said, “We should ride to Dove Cottage now. It is where Wordsworth and his sister live.”

They passed St. Oswald’s Church on the way, and Lady Tia insisted they stop and look at the ruins. Their entire party dismounted and led the horses closer.

He shared, “The church is named after a seventh century Christian king of Northumberland. It is said he preached on this site where the church was eventually built.”

As they walked around, Rupert pointed out the tower, porch, and south wall, the only parts which remained of the church, which had been built in the fourteenth century.

They mounted up again and rode toward Dove Cottage, which lay on the edge of Grasmere. He had previously inquired where Wordsworth’s rented cottage lay because of Lady Lia’s interest in the poet.

As they drew near, he stopped his horse.

“Wordsworth lives in Dove Cottage, which is just ahead. He moved there with Dorothy, his sister, and wed a woman named Mary five years ago. The innkeeper told me the Wordsworths have rapidly expanded their family, having three children in four years. He said rumors are circulating that the poet is ready to seek larger lodgings, due to how crowded Dove Cottage has become. If we see Mr. Wordsworth, we should quietly continue upon our way. Those who live in Grasmere say they give Wordsworth what he wants—peace.”

They started up again, walking their horses, and Rupert gestured to a cottage, letting them know this was the one.

A woman was seated on a bench just outside the dwelling, a small boy of about two next to her.

A girl of about three and a boy a little older were running around the yard, entertaining the mother and child.

Rupert assumed this was Mrs. Wordsworth and her three children.

He tipped his hat to her as they passed.

Continuing on for a few minutes, he was about to stop when they came across a woman sitting on a rock. She held a pencil in her hand. A handsome man in his mid-to-late thirties wandered nearby, his hands behind his back. Then he started speaking, and the woman furiously scribbled what he said.

Rupert looked over his shoulder, seeing the four women had brought their horses to a halt. Lady Lia stared at the man as if he were a hero from a great battle. He stopped his own horse and listened, realizing they had stumbled across the great Lake poet himself, dictating lines to his sister.

For a moment, they listened, spellbound, and then Rupert motioned silently to them. They began to walk their horses again, moving away. Once out of sight, he stopped, the others following suit.

“It was him—Wordsworth!” Lady Lia cried. “Oh, I am trying to recall what he told his sister. She was writing down every word he uttered.” She paused, a look of reverence on her face. “When the volume of poetry is published, I know I will recognize the lines we just heard.”

She looked to him. “Thank you, Lord Cressley. I believe I have experienced something incredibly unique. To my dying day, I will recall my skin tingling as I heard the greatest living poet in all of England creating poetry aloud, his inspiration the surroundings about him.”

They returned to the center of Grasmere, first returning their horses and then walking back to the inn together. As they entered, the innkeeper greeted them.

“Can I get you some ale, my lord? And perhaps lemonade for the ladies? You must be parched after your long ride.”

“Yes, please,” he said, indicating a table for them to sit.

The innkeeper’s wife returned with a tray of drinks, and Lady Lia said, “We think we saw Wordsworth on our ride.”

“If you did, he would be walking around, spouting poetry, while his sister records what he dictates.”

“Yes, that is what we witnessed,” Lady Justina said, barely containing her excitement.

“I’ve heard he likes to walk and think,” the woman told them. “If anyone local comes across them, we leave them in peace.”

“We did,” Rupert assured her. “Not even one greeting was exchanged.”

“It was as if they were in their own small world,” Lady Lia continued. “ They took no notice of us. In fact, I am not certain they truly saw us.”

“It was as if we were not even there,” Lady Tia said breathlessly. “It was genius in the making.”

“Well, you’ll have a story to tell your little ones,” the innkeeper’s wife said. “Let me know if you need anything else, my lord.”

The duchess and countess entered the inn, and he stood, motioning them over. The two older women joined them, and the four young ladies excitedly told their mothers about their sighting of the great poet.

“And he did not even seem to see you?” Her Grace asked, puzzled.

“He was that focused on his art, Mama,” Lady Lia said.

The duchess sniffed. “I think him merely rude. Let us tell you about our shopping expedition.”

The women talked for several minutes, Rupert doing his best to glance at each one as they spoke, when all he wanted to do was focus his sole attention on Lady Lia.

They finished their lemonades and made plans to meet again when it was time for dinner.

He returned to his room and sat on the bed, thinking of how next Season might play out.

Him, dutifully looking for a bride who would care for Celia and provide him with an heir.

Lady Lia, on her quest, searching for love.

Rupert lay on the bed, pillowing his hands behind his head, wishing he could have just one more kiss with her. Then he would let go of the sometimes foolish notions that played in his head about her, thoughts that came to him in the dead of night, when the house was still and he could not sleep.

Perhaps tonight might be the night. In fact, he realized this might be his only chance since he doubted he would see her before she left for Millvale. The question was where they could be alone without anyone seeing them.

And if Lady Lia would even permit a kiss from a man she did not love.