Chapter 1 The Woman In The Library

London, England.

Present-day, May 1831.

THE BALLROOM at the duke of Hanton's town house was ablaze with lights of a thousand candles all placed prettily in a glistening chandelier and crystal brackets interspersed along the wall. At one corner of the room stood Emily Bertram with tears in the back of her eyes as she watched the last man she had pinned all her hopes on, take his newly betrothed, to the dance hall. It was official now. She was going to die an old maid, without even being kissed before.

The young woman was already three and twenty, and she was yet to find a husband, which meant she was practically on the shelf. One more year, and she would be firmly on the shelf.

Mayhap, she could be a great aunt to her brothers' children if they ever got around to marrying one, the young woman thought. But then her lips wobbled, and tears threatened to spill. She wanted to cry out in hysteria, she wanted to sob. She didn't want to be any great aunt, first, she wanted to have her children, and she wanted to be loved. Was that too much to ask?

The young woman clenched her eyes in pain and folded her lips into her mouth. She had always thought she was a strong woman, but here she was, about to break down in tears, in front of all these people. People she barely even knew. She needed a place where she could cry and console her aching soul. A place where she could lose herself in. That's it, the young woman opened her eyes, she needed to bury her nose in a book, she needed to lose her soul.

Turning from where she was standing near the refreshment table, Emily eyed the grand entrance. All great houses were supposed to have libraries, and if she was right, this one should have one too. Picking up a glass of lemonade from the refreshment table, Emily drank from it freeing her parched throat before hurriedly moving over to the grand entrance as discreetly as possible. 

On reaching the door she assumed was the library, Emily pulled it open and was confronted with several shelves stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Flooded with books, blue, green, gold, and red spines lined up flawlessly for perusal. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling and several lamps placed at strategic positions. Casting the library in a semi glow. 

At one corner stood a desk. A floor-length window behind it flocked by heavy drapes and hinting at the outside. A solitary single brass candlestick on the desk. Emily walked over to the first shelf with careful steps and felt the familiar comfort of a library wash over her. She took in a huge breath and ran her fingers over the rows of thick covers. Her glove clad hand settling on one, and she pulled it out and held it close to her chest. Then she turned and started towards the desk with weak steps trying not to think of her dilemma but it came pouring in any way.

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COLE FLETCHER watched from his position opposite the second shelf, as a young woman, stole into Sebastian's library where he was hiding. His first thought had been that she had come to steal something. But after a quick thorough glance over her, he came to the sudden conclusion she wasn't there to steal, for she didn't have the agility attributed to one in that line of occupation.

The earl of Tonfield hated being there. All the bloody reasons why he didn't like attending balls and functions like this, was made visible in the ballroom. Hell! He felt like he was on the market. It was no wonder he is hiding in the library. He rarely ventured into the society and he hated balls. If this one, hadn't been hosted by his dear friend, and his wife, he wouldn't have had cause to step foot inside.

But he had to do right by them. After all, he had played a major role in orchestrating the events that led to their marriage, sometime last year.

So he had come, even though he rather not, and paid his respects to his host, danced with one or two misses to fulfil all righteousness and then proceeded to the library where he divested himself of his neckcloth(The bloody thing was choking him to death) and then scored himself a glass of whiskey from his friend's drawer. That was where he was when the young woman stepped inside.

Cole eyed her again, she seems not to have seen him. She was a pretty thing, although her gown was quite unbecoming a far contrast from the white glove she was wearing. She was a tall woman Cole noticed, too tall for a woman. 

Quietly, he watched her move to the first shelve, stub her foot and curse furiously. Cole smiled as he watched her, he was intrigued. He could tell with every fibre of his being she was a lady, even though, she looked, and dressed more like a governess, than a lady.

The Earl continued his scrutiny and watched the woman who was an enigma to him. At first, she walked with a weak step towards the desk, but then she stopped, squared her shoulders and continue in angry furious steps, the book she held in her right hand swinging up and down in the air. Cole leaned back and rubbed his jaw. She had spirit. Interesting.

The woman snapped the book open on the mahogany table her face almost disappearing in the thick volumes of it. It was then that Cole grinned and stood up from his chair, then sauntered his way lazily over to her. It was about time he made his presence known.

He raised a brow when he saw what she was reading. An account book? Rare, quite rare for a woman. Cole thought and grinned. Resting his body on the desk in a casual pose he looked at her amused.  “I'm surprised, a woman like you would be interested in a book like this, he said and touched a finger to her book.

She paused in the act of turning the next page and jerked her head up at that. Emily hadn't been aware someone else had been in the room let alone standing in front of her now. Her eyes widened briefly before it narrowed into slits. “It wasn't what I had planned to read, it was the first thing I could lay my hands on at the time, and anything,” she paused “Anything was better than being in that dratted ball.”

Amusement caused the earl's lips to twitch to the side. She was angry, furious about something he noticed. Someone must have annoyed her greatly.

Without permission, he sat on the desk and surveyed the woman before him. He might not have been in society for long, but he knew she wasn't supposed to be here alone with him, it could ruin her, but still even after knowing that Cole remained. Something about the way she held herself intrigued him. And then that angry slant of her lips.

Her massive blond curls were wound up high on her hair in a beautiful coiffure, and her eyes were the same shades as emerald, set in a face that was so clear yet so smooth, that it was devoid of any face paint. In general, she had a pretty face and expressive eyes that could make a man come undone if she so much as fixed the intensity of her stare on you.

Unconsciously, without thinking Cole found himself leaning towards her. To take a closer look, he told himself but it was the eyes that intrigued him. He couldn't look away. He could only stare and imagine what she would look like with her blond curls down. Even with the knowledge of her orange unbecoming gown stuffed with a fichu to cover the low neckline. Cole could sense she was a pretty woman one who was in good possession of a pair of ethereal long legs. Her height all but bore testament to that.