“Lady Harriet,” he said with a smile. “I see you have discovered the secret library as well.”
“Indeed.” She glanced about. “It’s a lovely room and they have an excellent selection of books.”
“I’ll find a book and leave you to the peace and quiet.”
“No need.” Heat warmed her cheeks. Was she being too forward? Yet it seemed ridiculous to keep the whole room to herself. “You’re welcome to remain if you’d like.”
“Thank you.” He turned to the shelves of books and perused the offerings, the silence peaceful rather than awkward.
Harriet returned her attention to the page only to realize she had no idea what it said. With a quiet sigh, she allowed herself to admire the viscount’s broad shoulders as he walked slowly along the shelves.
Yet she couldn’t halt a rush of guilt as Frances came to mind. This could be the perfect opportunity to mention her friend to him.
Suddenly he turned to face her, his gaze meeting hers.
She stilled, remorse flooding her at being caught staring at him. How embarrassing.
“May I ask what you’re reading?” he asked, seemingly unaware of her fascination with him, much to her relief.
“Oh.” She glanced at the book, her mind blank for a moment. “Charles Dickens, actually.”
“You truly do enjoy his work?”
“I do. He wrote from the heart about what he observed around him. I’ve reread his stories numerous times. I suppose it’s like seeing old friends again.”
Garland nodded. “The familiar provides a certain comfort, especially when one is troubled.” He pulled out a volume before looking back at her. “I’m joining you with another one from Dickens.”
Her heart warmed as he walked toward her and sat in the nearby chair. His words lingered in the air between them, and she couldn’t let them go.
“Are you?” she asked quietly. “Troubled, that is,” she added when he glanced up, one brow lifted in question.
He blinked as if only now realizing what he’d said. “I suppose I am. Life is often more complicated than I’d like.”
She nodded, telling herself not to say anything more on the topic. Why would he confide in her when they hardly knew one another?
“Are you familiar with Reverend Henderson?” he asked.
Harriet told herself not to be disappointed by the change in subject. It was to be expected since they were mere acquaintances. How silly to think he might unburden himself to her.
“Only from his time here.” She hesitated to say more though she had already decided she didn’t like the man. He had a sly quality she didn’t trust. In fact, something about him reminded her of her stepfather.
“And?” Garland studied her. “Would you care to share your opinion?”
“I don’t really know him well enough to say.” What if Garland admired him?
“Do you have a first impression?”
Harriet drew a deep breath as she considered how to word it without causing offense. “He seems to have strong opinions on several topics with which I would be hard-pressed to agree.”
The viscount smiled. “I knew I liked you.”
Her stomach flipped again at his easy smile not to mention his words.
“Do you happen to know why he’s here?” he asked.
“No, although the question crossed my mind as well. I thought about asking Frances.”
“This might sound like an odd request, but if you learn anything, would you share it with me?”