Free Stolen Love by Carolyn Jewel Page A

parlor that had decided him. The way the evening light spread slowly over the green of the Park was a soothing sight to him and one he never tired of. It was worth every hard-earned shilling the place had cost. His favorite room in the whole of the house was the front parlor. It was high-ceilinged and spacious, and he kept it free of clutter. The large windows were curtained with a muted gold fabric and held open with tasseled lengths of similar fabric. The rugs, too, had golden highlights. He had decorated the room with furniture from the last century; there was none of that heavy, dark modern stuff in his parlor. A large table dominated the center of the room. His favorite armchair was by the fireplace, two side tables flanked the windows, a few chairs were scattered about, and a gold high-backed sofa nestled against the wall opposite the windows.
    He was sitting in his parlor with a book open on the table before him. He was not reading; instead he was gazing at the Park. When his butler came in to announce the arrival of visitors, he scowled and looked away from the view. Though he took the card from the salver, he did not look at it, glancing instead out the window as if he expected to see his company standing outside. He did not normally receive much before two o'clock, and he disliked having his quiet mornings interrupted.
    "Shall I tell the ladies you are not in, Mr. Villines?" Mr. Baker asked. He was thoroughly used to his employer's moods, and he thought he recognized this one. He waited for a nod of assent.
    "The ladies?" Nicholas finally troubled to look at the card. "By no means, Baker, you must show them in at once."
    "Yes, Mr. Villines." He masked his surprise at such a breach of custom. "At once, sir."
    Nicholas stood up when Mr. Baker came back with his guests. "Mrs. Willard, Miss Willard… I'm honored you've come. Good morning, Elizabeth." He bowed briefly to all three and took Amelia's arm to lead her to the sofa, commenting as he did that she ought to have a view of the Park. "Baker," he said, "please have someone bring refreshments. Perhaps some lemonade."
    "Yes, sir."
    "We were so intrigued when you described your orchids, we wasted no time in presuming on your offer to show them to us," Mrs. Willard said after she had taken a seat next to Amelia. "Beth, dear, do sit down so poor Mr. Villines may be comfortable in his own house." She waved a gloved hand while she spoke, taking in every detail of the room, from its old-style furniture to the portrait of Nicholas's grandfather that hung over the fireplace.
    Elizabeth looked for a place to sit where she would be out of the way, but Nicholas quickly pulled out a chair for her at the table and seated himself at the head of it in order to have an unimpeded view of the three women.
    "I should be more than happy to show them to you." A maid came in with a tray as he was speaking. "I'm ecstatic you've come so soon."
    He was amused to see Elizabeth glance at Amelia and then at him, evidently imagining the comment to be directed at Amelia in particular. He was not sure it wasn't true. He returned Amelia's smile and wondered if it would be very hard to make her fall in love with him. The idea was not without a certain attraction. Amelia was very beautiful, and there would be the added benefit of frustrating Beaufort Latchley, who, if gossip were to be believed, was much enamored of her.
    He was still considering the notion when he saw Elizabeth was not paying attention to the conversation. She was sitting with one elbow propped on the table, the side of her face cradled in the palm of one hand, examining the surface of the table. One slim finger lazily traced a pattern in the grain of the wood. Every now and then she would make some exclamation of interest, presumably for the benefit of Mrs. Willard. Eventually she turned her attention to the book he had left lying open before him. It was just close enough to tempt her into leaning forward to read the title. It was,