Free Dreamspinner by Olivia Drake Page B

that despite the differences between the two families, both their homes held that one distinct similarity.
    The muted noises of traffic emphasized the eerie silence within the house. The sensation of solitude puzzled her a moment; then she realized why. She was accustomed to servants bustling about, unobtrusive yet ever present. Kent’s town home seemed empty and forlorn, like a neglected winter garden.
    Parting the yellowed lace at a window, she peered outside. Carriages and drays rattled along the street; a nursemaid wheeled a pram; a pair of elderly ladies strolled past. So ordinary a scene. Yet she felt as if she were trembling on the brink of a great adventure.
    The heavy fall of footsteps emanated from the hall. She swung to the doorway as Kent walked into the room. His handsome face wore a welcoming smile that made her heart leap with gladness. Today he’d left off his formal coat; in a plain white shirt and dark trousers he looked alert and vital.
    “Juliet,” he said, taking both her hands. “You’re like sunshine in this musty old place.”
    Bending, he planted a kiss on her cheek, and even that chaste gesture nearly made her knees wilt. She loved the feel of his fingers around hers, his large, solid hands holding her tenderly.
    “I’m delighted to be here.” Laughing, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, that sounds like a platitude... and it seems so inadequate to express how I feel right now.”
    His dark lashes lowered a bit, making his eyes appear blacker. “And how do you feel?”
    “Happy,” she whispered. “Happy to be with you, no matter where we are.”
    For a moment his face remained soft; then a muscle in his jaw tightened and he released her hands. “Come along,” he said, pivoting. “I promised you a surprise, and I won’t have you accusing me of reneging.”
    As they headed down the shadowed hall, Juliet sensed that she’d stirred deep feelings in Kent. Excitement shivered through her. Surely he’d reveal those feelings today.
    “Did you have any difficulty getting here?” he asked.
    “No... and no one saw me.”
    “I wish you’d have let me come for you.”
    “It’s better this way,” she said firmly. “We agreed not to risk someone seeing me getting into your carriage.”
    He nodded, then led her through a doorway. Juliet found herself in a study lined with glass fronted bookcases. A camelback sofa sat on a Turkish carpet, both in jeweled shades of burgundy. Like the drawing room, the air held a trace of staleness, though a pair of long windows stood open, the floral drapes undulating in the summer breeze.
    Intending to put down her gloves, she walked to a mahogany desk, where a pungent odor made her sniff. She tilted her head at Kent. “Tansy?”
    He glanced away. “The flower you gave me last week got accidentally crushed. I had to throw it away.”
    “Then I’ll be sure to give you another,” she teased. On the desk, a silver pen lay carelessly across a drawing. “Is this your work?”
    “Yes.”
    “May I look?”
    He smiled. “If you like.”
    Picking up the paper, she studied a cutaway view of a curious boxy machine. Neatly labeled were several conveyor belts, fans, and wheels. “What is it?”
    “The mechanical thresher. It runs on petrol.”
    “Petrol?”
    “A fuel used by the horseless carriage.”
    “I’ve never seen one of those, but I heard my father speak of them.” Fascinated, Juliet stared at the drawing. “Does it really work?”
    He laughed at her questioning look. “I hope it will someday. Right now it’s only an experiment.”
    Admiring the precise beauty of the sketch, she felt a flash of resentment that her father could disparage Kent for having the vision to dream, to create. “Have you invented anything else?”
    “A few odd things here and there. But enough about me. This is what I wanted to show you.”
    He walked to the fireplace, where a pair of brass peacock andirons guarded the empty hearth. Atop the marble mantelpiece stood