A Companion for the Count: A Regency Romance, Britton, Sally [books to read for self improvement .txt] 📗

in reading, and little else. So, Josephine read to the duke’s mother, and skipped the etiquette lessons.

Rather than peruse the shelves for a book—she had quite a few in her room she had yet to finish—Emma threw herself onto the most comfortable couch in the room. The large velvet couch, cream colored with dark green pillows heaped on each corner, had always proved a perfect place to pass the morning.

The windows of the library lined one wall, their Gothic arches bearing stained glass fleurs-de-lis bathing the room in colored light. The duke had covered the walls in bookshelves twice her height, with busts of eminent historians and playwrights atop them. A table and practical chairs, along with comfortable high-backed chairs, and a writing desk furnished the room most comfortably.

Emma stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the quiet.

Until the hidden door between the duke’s personal study and the library opened behind her, the click so soft that most would not even notice the sound.

Hastily, Emma sat up, correcting her posture.

Men’s voices drifted into the library, and she belatedly remembered that the duke had scheduled an early meeting with the ambassador.

The duke’s deep voice came from within the room, not the doorway. “I will think on what you have said, Lord Atella, and send for the requisite documents from London.”

“Thank you for your attention to this matter, Your Grace.” The conte. He stood in the doorway.

“We will meet you for the ride this afternoon, Your Grace.” And that was the secretary, Mr. Torlonia. “If you would excuse me, I will compile the notes of our meeting for you both.”

“Grazie, Torlonia.”

The secretary walked through the room at a fast clip, papers held to his chest, not even noticing Emma sitting in the couch’s corner. She relaxed. Perhaps the ambassador wouldn’t see her, either.

The door between the library and study clicked closed, and the conte took a few steps into the room, then stopped. “Miss Arlen?”

Emma rose from her place and turned toward him, making brief eye contact before bending her knee in a polite curtsy. “Good morning, Signore.”

He wore a dark blue coat over an ivory waistcoat, colors rich and well suited to him. His hair had been combed to one side, but the wave at his forehead suggested it would not hold in that strict style for long.

He bowed to her, then his gaze swept the room before settling on her again. “You are alone? Did you wish to see His Grace?”

“No, I have no need to bother him at the moment.” She gestured to the couch. “I am enjoying the quiet. The duke took care that this room is always silent, for reading and contemplation, when he and the duchess built the castle.”

For a long moment, the man said nothing. At last, he nodded. “It is near silent in this room, isn’t it?” He gestured to the couch behind her. “Please, do not let me disturb you. I know too well the value of quiet thought.” He almost sounded sad at the admission.

Retaking her seat, Emma studied the conte with interest. “I suppose a man in your position needs time to organize his thoughts.” She gestured to the chairs. “Would you like to enjoy the quiet for yourself? I am perfectly capable of sitting without saying a word, so we may both enjoy a moment’s peace.”

Rather than turn down the silly offer, the conte surprised her by taking one of the empty chairs situated several feet away from the couch. He did not look at her, but instead took in the room itself. “It amazes me how this castle and its rooms appear so old, when they have not stood even so long as I have lived.”

Part of the charm of Clairvoir Castle for the duke and duchess had been filling the entire castle with ancient artifacts from other family holdings and the Continent.

As the castle had been Emma’s home for half her life, she took pride in the building, too. Which meant she could not resist the topic. “The first day I stepped into the castle, it already had suits of armor lining the entrance passage.”

“When did you join Lady Josephine?” The ambassador appeared as impassive as ever in his expression, but she noted the way he tapped the arm of his chair with his fingers—the only sign of possible restlessness. “I confess, I know little about the practice of introducing a lady’s companion to a household.”

Emma studied his eyes, unabashedly attempting to read him and his interest in her. Did he make conversation with her out of politeness? Boredom? Or only to find out more about Josephine or the family? Her first loyalty always fell to the Duke of Montfort. He had acted as a father toward her almost as long as she could remember.

“I first came to the castle directly after the builders finished work, a decade ago. I was ten years old to Lady Josephine’s nine.” Of course, she had been a part of the family since her sixth birthday, when a tragic accident took her parents away forever.

Had she not been paying attention, she would not have seen the slight widening of his eyes and the way his chin came up just a fraction. Most people either thought of companions as glorified servants or conveniently impoverished relatives.

“I have surprised you, Signore.” Emma smiled at him and had the pleasure of seeing him shift in his seat when he dropped his gaze from hers.

“You were very young when you began your work. The family has treated you well?”

If she told him of her position as the duke’s ward, would that explain things to him? Not that it was any of his business. Best to answer his question and nothing more. “They have treated me with the best of care and understanding.”

He nodded once. “Good.” Then he stood and went to one of the bookcases with an abruptness that made her blink.

Hesitantly, Emma came to her feet again. “Do you need help finding something to read?”

“You said you