Page 6 of The Case at Castle Rock Cove (Beau Monde Secrets #4)

“M ama,” Willa asked, “do you think a friendship can exist between a gentleman and a lady?”

“Of course.” Mama once again reclined on the sofa, this time with a popular scandal-rag for entertainment. “I am friends with both your uncles, aren’t I?”

Willa made a face. That didn’t count! Uncle Rowland and Uncle Richard were family, not friends. “But have you ever been friends with a gentleman who wasn’t part of your family?”

“Hmm.” Mama turned the pages of her newspaper. “Yes, I have had gentlemen friends. When I was much younger, I was quite good friends with a fellow named Sir Horatio Bradford. He had no interest in marriage, but he had many friends who were women.” She sighed. “He always knew the juiciest on-dits before anyone else did.”

“Like Uncle Rowland?” Willa suggested.

Her mother chuckled. “Apart from both having a good ear for gossip, their personalities and interests were quite different.” She hesitated, a thoughtful look on her face. “I suppose they were also similar in that that they both had a very close particular friend. But what makes you ask about friendship?”

Willa looked down at her embroidery, pretending to be concerned about the evenness of her stitches. “No reason.”

“Is this about the young man up at Marlowe Tower?” Mama asked.

“Of course not. It was merely an idle question.” But Willa’s blush gave the lie to her words. She most certainly was thinking about Mr. Radcliffe. Ever since the dinner party, she’d wondered if the two of them might have a friendship after all, even though he wasn’t the young lady she had imagined.

“I see.” Mama smiled in that knowing, parental way that always annoyed Willa. “There is no harm in forming some new acquaintances while we are here. One never knows when one may need a friend.”

“Quite right,” Willa agreed, though she didn’t think her mother had given a very satisfactory answer to her question.

At least Mama didn’t seem opposed to her pursuing an acquaintanceship with Mr. Radcliffe. Maybe Willa would find out for herself whether a gentleman and a lady could be friends.

*

On the last day of April, Willa and Cousin Sarah paid their promised call at Marlowe Tower. Willa assumed she would find Mr. Radcliffe there, but when the butler ushered them into the drawing room, they found only his aunt.

“Benjamin is out in his workroom,” Miss Marlowe explained. “It’s in the loft above the carriage house. If you like, Rosie can take you there. I know Benjamin was hoping to show you his collection.”

Willa blinked. Was Miss Marlowe suggesting that Willa tour Mr. Radcliffe’s collection without a chaperone? How very improper! But when she glanced uncertainly at Cousin Sarah, the older woman nodded her encouragement.

“Go on, dear,” Cousin Sarah urged. “That way, Miss Marlowe and I can have a comfortable coze without boring you with our gossip.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t be bored.” Willa, who was not the least bit interested in Newell gossip, spoke purely for politeness’ sake. She was quite happy to follow the housemaid out to the stables.

A tall row of holly trees hid the stable block, which was larger than she expected. It was just as well that she had a guide. Rosie politely showed Willa to the staircase leading to the loft above the carriage house, then stepped back. “It’s the only room up there, so you can’t miss it,” she explained.

“Thank you.” Willa tried to hide her surprise when the maid turned and walked away. She had assumed that Rosie would keep her company, for the sake of propriety.

As she climbed the stairs, Willa’s mouth felt dry. This visit, which had seemed so promising, now felt like a very bad idea. What was she doing here? It wasn’t as if she were really interested in fossils or seashells. Maybe it wasn’t too late to turn around and go back. But how would she explain that to Miss Marlowe?

“Arf! Arf!” A sharp bark took the decision out of her hands.

“What is it, Cato?” The door swung open, revealing Mr. Radcliffe and a curly coated dog of unidentifiable breed. “Oh! Lady Wilhelmina!”

Well might he sound surprised, Willa thought sourly. Mr. Radcliffe clearly wasn’t prepared to receive guests. He had taken off his morning coat, revealing a green-striped waistcoat over a linen shirt.

More shocking yet, he had rolled his shirtsleeves nearly up to his elbows. Willa’s eyes were drawn to his forearms. She could not remember the last time she’d seen a gentleman without a coat on.

Mr. Radcliffe broke the silence. “Er, I suppose you are here to see my collection?” He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter the room.

Willa stepped in, doing her best to shape her expression into a look of scholarly interest. In truth, fossils and seashells did not interest her nearly as much as Mr. Radcliffe’s state of undress. While he talked about geodes and sea glass, she kept taking surreptitious glances at his bare arms. When he came to a halt in front of the window, the afternoon light gilded the tiny hairs on his arms. Or were they already golden, like the hair on his head?

Unfortunately, Willa’s glances must not have been surreptitious enough. Mr. Radcliffe caught her looking at him.

“Is there something wrong with—oh! I forgot to put my coat back on. One moment, please!”

Rosy color rushed to his face, highlighting his prominent cheekbones. He turned away and grabbed the dark-blue coat draped over the back of a chair. He kept his back to her as he shrugged it on, giving her the distinct impression that he was avoiding her gaze.

While he repaired his dress, Willa glanced around the room. She had expected it to be full of glass curiosity shelves, but there were only a couple of those. Instead, the room was dominated by walls of shelves and a large apothecary cabinet.

When Mr. Radcliffe turned back around, he looked disappointingly respectable again. Only a flush along his cheekbones hinted at his discomposure.

“My apologies, Lady Wilhemina,” he said. “As I was saying, I am more interested in man-made objects that wash up on the beach, but sometimes natural artifacts catch my eye. Like this did, today.” He gestured towards the table in the center of the room.

Willa peered down at the black cloth square in the center of the table. She expected to see a pretty seashell. What she found instead made her cover her mouth with surprise.

“A seahorse! So tiny!” And, sadly, very dead. Poor thing!

“I found it washed up on the beach this morning,” Mr. Radcliffe explained. “I’ve seen them before, but not in such good condition.”

Willa wrinkled her brow. “What will you do with it? Bury it?”

“Bury it? Oh, no. They dry very well. After it dries out entirely, I shall add it to my specimen case. See, I already have a few sea stars.” He gestured to the display case set up along the wall.

Willa pretended to admire the bits of coral and dried starfish. What really caught her attention, though, was a jar full of sweets on a shelf near the table.

“You must like peppermint,” she suggested.

“Hmm?” He looked in the direction she pointed and shrugged. “Oh, my Aunt Patience sent us those. I do like boiled sweets, but I prefer lemon drops or barley sugar. My grandfather is the one who loved peppermints, but his dentist told him they were damaging his teeth. He gives them to me instead.”

He lifted the stopper and took one out. “Would you care for one?”

“Oh, yes, thank you.” She popped it into her mouth. As the cool flavor flooded across her tongue, she looked about the room. A glint of green in one of the glass cases caught her attention.

“Oh, that must be the sea glass!” She hurried across the room to take a look, and Mr. Radcliffe followed her.

The whole case was full of sea glass: mostly green, blue, and white, with a few bits of black and amber glass mixed in.

“Yes, these are all pieces I found either down at the cove or on Newell Beach.” He lifted the glass lid and took out a lovely bit of cobalt blue. “This is the most perfectly shaped teardrop I’ve ever found. Usually, sea glass is more irregular in form.”

He handed the teardrop to Willa so she could examine it more closely. She held it up to the light of the window. As sunlight streamed through the little jewel, her mouth fell open in awe.

“How pretty!” To Willa, this was far more interesting than dead seahorses or starfish.

Mr. Radcliffe’s eyes widened, too. “Look—no, I suppose you can’t see. I haven’t any looking glasses in here. But the color of that sea glass matches your eyes almost exactly. Quite the coincidence.”

Willa blinked, not at all certain how to respond. Was that a compliment? Or merely an observation? She decided to treat it as the latter. Mr. Radcliffe had spoken matter-of-factly. He did not sound as if he were trying to flatter her.

“You could make a charming piece of jewelry with this,” she suggested. “A pendant, for example. I imagine it would be easy to do.” It might be as simple as wrapping the glass drop with wire and attaching it to a chain.

He shrugged. “I suppose so. I know nothing about jewelry, my lady. I shall leave the jewelry making to you.”

She handed the pretty bauble back and watched somewhat wistfully as he carefully returned it to the case.

“I am sure I could make something interesting with glass like that,” she agreed. “It’s a pity I can’t collect sea glass for myself.”

“Oh, but you can,” he assured her. “It’s easy. All you need do is wait for the tide to go out, then walk along the beach. You should stay away from the cliffs to avoid rock falls, though.”

Willa shook her head. Rock falls were the least of her problem. “I do not care for walking along the beach. I hate the ocean.” She wrinkled her nose and confessed, “That’s part of why this long visit to the seaside is so dreadful for me.”

“You hate the ocean?” A puzzled line formed on his forehead. “Why?”

She drew a deep breath, knowing from experience that he wouldn’t understand, no matter what she said. No one ever did. But fortune intervened in the form of a scratch at the door. Mr. Radcliffe hurried over to open it.

It was the same maidservant who’d shown Willa the way to the carriage house. “Lady Wilhelmina? Your cousin is wishful to go back into town now.”

“Oh, yes, I will be there in a trice,” Willa promised. She turned to take leave of her host. “Thank you very much for showing me your collection, Mr. Radcliffe. It was most interesting.” At least, some of it was.

Mr. Radcliffe looked surprised. “Oh, must you go so soon? I didn’t even get to show you the sea pottery I’ve found.”

Sea pottery? She’d never even heard of that. Willa bit her lip and thought quickly. “I mustn’t keep my cousin waiting. Perhaps I can return another day?” She was always looking for ways to occupy her time, since she wasn’t interested in sea bathing.

“Yes, you’ll have to come back some time,” he agreed. “Maybe next week?”

“Oh, yes, maybe.” Willa waited for a moment, expecting that he would escort her back to the house, but instead he sat down at the table and reached for a notebook.

She took that as her dismissal and hurried back to the house. Despite what she’d said, she doubted she’d get to return to the room above the carriage house. Cousin Sarah might have been willing to let her explore it without a chaperone today, but Willa knew better than to expect that to happen again. Even if it were possible for a lady to develop a friendship with a gentleman, propriety would always impose a barrier between them.