Not a Perfect Earl by Janis Linford

Author:Janis Linford [Linford, Janis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-08T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Adam rolled up his shirt sleeves and stripped the leaves off a rosemary stalk. He added them to his mortar and pestle, along with some almond blossoms and four pink rose petals. The mixture was pounded into a matted paste and then added to the liquid in a white ceramic dish. The resulting color would be his seventh attempt to find a match for his face. Unlike Ella, whose fair, creamy skin had been easy to match, his tanned cheeks were more of a challenge.

He picked up the dish and swirled the contents, hoping the color had leached sufficiently to obtain an accurate likeness.

The study door opened, and Creswick came in with a letter in his hand. “This has just come from London, sir.”

Adam’s heart leapt. He’d been waiting to hear how Ella was coping with his mother and also what she thought of London.

“Thank you, Creswick. Can you leave it on the table? I’m at a delicate stage of this process at the moment.”

If the letter was from Ella he didn’t want to appear too desperate to open it.

“Righto, milord.”

Creswick placed the letter on the table and left. Once the door had closed behind him, Adam put the dish down and picked up the correspondence. It was definitely Caroline’s seal.

He broke the wax and opened out the parchment, glancing quickly at the signature at the bottom. Ella.

He read slowly, delighting in her descriptions of a trip to the dressmakers and how wonderful she’d found Lady Julia. Her funny observations of everything around her touched him deeply.

How he wished he was there in London with her. To show her the sights, see the delight of discovery in her eyes, and witness her joy and curiosity.

He sniffed the letter for any smell of her. A faint perfume lingered on the parchment and his loins tightened at the scent. She was a beautiful woman, mesmerising, and far too good for him. He’d done the right thing, putting distance between them, but still he missed her.

Once or twice he’d settled in his library chair and had reread those Shakespeare passages he’d read to her, just to capture in his mind the way her eyes had flashed with laughter and interest. She’d been a ray of sunshine in his life, and like a cat seeking the warmth, he wanted to be near her, nestled in the brightness of her being.

He refolded the letter with a snort of self-disgust. What blasted stupid notions he had. If she were privy to his thoughts, and thank the saints she wasn’t, she’d surely laugh. She was much better off without him. In London, she’d find a man who would belong in society like he could not. A worthier man, who could give her everything.

He stuck the letter in his red leather journal and picked up the ceramic dish with a sigh. He needed to concentrate on his invention and consign his fleeting, foolish memories to the waste pit behind the stables.

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