Free Love In The Library by Cheryl Bolen Page B

been comfortable in brown woolens.
    His brother, on the other hand, looked as if he'd spent two or three hours of preparation with a gifted valet. From his charcoal pantaloons, to his claret silk waistcoat, to his rich velvet jacket, he presented a courtly appearance. How had he managed on so rainy a day? He must have been protected in a carriage or hackney.
    "Won't you sit across from me?" she said.
    He took a seat upon a damask settee that matched the one she sat upon. His gaze circled the chamber. "My brother is not here today?"
    So Mr. Steffington had complied with her request not to mention the Chaucer manuscript to anyone. Had he not told his brother anything about what he was doing today? She feared that her version of his activities might conflict with Mr. Melvin Steffington's; therefore, she said as little as possible. "No, not today."
    "I say, my brother's been rather quiet about the nature of the research he's helping you with."
    She had known since that first day she could put her trust in Melvin Steffington – Aristotle. He had not betrayed that trust by confiding in his twin brother. She cocked her head and regarded him with dancing eyes. "I would be very surprised to learn that your scholarly brother was ever terribly communicative."
    He chuckled. "Right-o. He has always been more given to reading than to talking."
    His speech was really nothing like Aristotle's. The timbre of their voices was the same, but Sir Elvin's speech exuded the same confidence peculiar to those firstborn. Like Mr. Bexley. Melvin. Steffington, on the other hand, chose his words carefully and sparingly.
    She was convinced she would never mistake Sir Elvin for his more sober twin, though as she peered at this one, she was astonished at how much the two looked alike. Astonishing, too, was her disappointment that he wasn't Aristotle. This was the first day she hadn't seen Mr. Steffington since their association had begun.
    "What about you, Sir Elvin? Do you enjoy reading?" She wished to steer the conversation away from Melvin Steffington for fear her information might conflict with what he had told his brother.
    He shook his head. "I've always preferred being out of doors. I'd rather shoot than anything – another difference between me and my twin brother."
    "Yet you two are close?"
    "Very. I cannot bear to think of him taking a post and moving away from me. The very thought is almost as painful as a death in the family."
    She could not imagine Melvin Steffington ever confiding something so personal. Yet, because Sir Elvin had spoken of something so deeply emotional, she liked him far better than she had expected she would. He was not shallow like Mr. Bexley had been.
    Oddly, she understood how Melvin's absence could disturb. For she greatly missed seeing him today. In a very short time she had become accustomed to and comfortable in his presence. "I understand."
    "Forgive me, madam, for speaking of death so soon after your mourning has ended."
    He displayed wonderful manners—as did most accomplished dancers. A pity he wasn't his brother.
    There was a knock upon the door, and Simpson announced Mr. Longford. A moment later, that gentleman entered the chamber, his shiny boots still wet from the day's rain but the rest of him remarkably dry. She supposed his oilskins puddled on her marble entry hall.
    Ever gracious, Sir Elvin replaced a cringe (displayed briefly after hearing Longford's name spoken) with a friendly greeting.
    Mr. Longford wasn't nearly so gracious. He was unable to conceal his disappointment that Sir Elvin was calling upon the widow he so favored. After stiffly shaking the baronet's hand, he turned to Mrs. Bexley, bowing as he offered her a nosegay. "Allow me to offer these roses that match the bloom in your lovely cheeks."
    "How thoughtful of you," she said.
    The gentleman could not have looked more pleased with himself had he just placed a crown upon the queen's head. "That is the very same floral arrangement my brother