Risking the Detective (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 6) Page 21
“Digger!” she called out, hoping the dog would come back quickly.
She was to be disappointed, for Digger was so focused on his new friend that he didn’t seem to have any inclination to return to her.
She sighed and began trudging up the hill, onto the black charcoal of the cliffs and away from the sandy beach. Around the small circle of trees were cliffs rising high on either side, and it was almost like descending into the darkness, into the shadows and away from the light as she went.
As Rose neared, she realized that the object was a sketchpad. She looked back over her shoulder at the landscape beyond her, seeing why this would be a seat of choice for any artist.
“Good afternoon,” she said as she approached, wondering if the man was ever going to look up. “I’m sorry to disturb you, I—”
“Stop.”
He held out a hand and Rose did as he said, so shocked was she by the sudden directive.
“I’m sorry?”
“Stop right there,” he said, still holding out his left hand as his right flew across the page in front of him. “That’s perfect.”
She looked around her, finding nothing in particular to note.
“What’s perfect?”
“You.”
Rose opened her mouth but then had to close it again, for she was at a loss for words.
“Me?”
“Yes,” he said. “The light is perfect. Your stance is perfect. Your face – yes, that’s it – don’t move it.”
Rose could only widen her eyes as her lips remained parted while she stared at this fascinating man. Who was he?
“Are you sketching me?” she couldn’t help but ask as the dogs began to run circles, from her to him and back again.
“I am.”
“Why?”
Finally, he lifted his head, but when he did, she rather wished he hadn’t.
For he was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Strands of light hair peeked out from beneath his hat, while his eyes were the color of the sea behind her, a blue-green aqua that she wasn’t sure could ever have been accurately captured within anything outside of nature.
She had been wrong.
“Wh-who…” she stammered, but then swallowed her nerves, berating herself for acting the fool. “Who are you?”
He tilted his head to the side as he considered her through slightly narrowed eyes.
“Perry.”
“Perry?” she asked. “That’s it?”
He smiled, his face warming considerably when he did so – a warmth that traveled from his lips down through her to a place she couldn’t accurately describe. She had no idea why Perry didn’t want to reveal his actual identity to her. She could tell from his speech that he was well-educated, if not gently bred. He couldn’t be from anywhere around here.
“And who are you?” he asked in return, leaning one forearm against his bent knee in a most casual position.
“Rose,” she said, not providing him with anything more than he had given her.
“Rose,” he repeated, her name sounding rather sensual upon his lips. “And what brings you to Lyme Regis, Rose?”
A hot trickle of awareness began to creep down her spine, and Rose looked around for Digger to see if he was ready to resume their walk, but it seemed her faithful companion had abandoned her for another.
“I live here,” she answered simply.
“Do you?” he raised his brows. “Why have I never seen you here before?”
“Do you live here, sir?”
“From time to time.”
“Then I suppose our paths simply have not had reason to cross in the past,” she said.
She couldn’t help it. This man intrigued her.
“Can I see it?” she asked, gesturing to his sketchpad. His smile fell somewhat.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just a rough sketch. I haven’t finished.”
“Don’t tell me you are shy,” she teased, surprised when he flinched slightly.
“I usually am, as it happens.”
He looked down for a moment, and Rose’s heart went out to this man whose cheeks flushed bright red from a few exchanged bits of conversation with her. He was handsome, yes, she had been right about that, but he was also… bashful. Endearing. She was curious to learn more.
“Very well,” she said. “You may sketch me, but I will not stand here like a fool. I shall sit over here, far enough away that I cannot see what you are doing.”
She folded her skirts beneath her and sat down upon a large rock that she had assumed at one point of time had been part of the cliffs above.
He looked up at her, and suddenly his slight awkwardness vanished as he flipped over the piece of paper on his sketchpad and began drawing anew.
His features lit up as became engrossed in his work, and Rose had the feeling that it was only with a piece of charcoal in his hands that he was truly comfortable.
“Are you drawing me again?”
“I am.”
“You must be lacking people to pose for you, then?”
He grunted his negative response as he shook his head.
“I’m lacking people like you.”
“Meaning?”
“Beautiful yet striking. Different yet captivating.”
Rose’s cheeks warmed at his words. She had the sense he had not said them as a compliment, but rather as his truth, which somehow made them all the more sincere.
She bit her lip as she looked down, her eyelids fluttering down as she was unsure just how to respond.
“I—thank you,” she decided on simply and he nodded.
“Your dog is lovely,” she said, to which he chuckled lowly, a sound that vibrated through her.
“I’m not sure if lovely is the proper term to describe Onyx,” he said.
“Onyx?”
He nodded. “For her color. It’s not very original, I suppose.”
“Only an artist would choose such an elaborate name for a color. Digger seems quite taken with her.”
She gestured out toward the beach, where the dogs were still playing in the sand.
“Digger?”
“So named for our favorite pastime.”
“Your favorite pastime as well?” He looked up at her, confusion etched on his face.
“Yes,” she said, “that’s what we do here on the beach – we dig.”
“For what?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could do so, a long, low rumble resounded around them. Perry twisted his head from one side to the other, looking to see where it had come from, but Rose didn’t have to – she was all too well aware that the only place to look was up.
As she did, a streak of fear laced through her. For the rock that was vibrating, the rock about to slide down the cliff – was right above Perry.
A Noble Excavation is available here for pre-order.
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Also by Ellie St. Clair
The Bluestocking Scandals
Designs on a Duke
Inventing the Viscount
Discovering the Baron
The Valet Experiment
Writing the Rake
Risking the Detective
A Noble Excavation
The Victorian Highlanders
Callum’s Vow
Finlay’s Duty
Adam’s Call
Roderick’s Purpose
Peggy’s Love
Blooming Brides
A Duke for Daisy
A Marquess for Marigold
An Earl for Iris
A Viscount for Violet
The Blooming Brides Box Set: Books 1-4
The Unconventional Ladies
Lady of Mystery
Lady of Fortune
Lady of Providence
Lady of Charade
Happily Ever After
Someday Her Duke Will Come
Once Upon a Duke’s Dream
He’s a Duke, But I Love Him
Loved by the Viscount
Because the Earl Loved Me
Happily Ever After Box Set Books 1-3
Happily Ever After Box Set Books 4-6
Searching Hearts
Duke of Christmas (prequel)
Quest of Honor
Clue of Affection
Hearts of Trust
Hope of Romance
Promise of Redemption
Searching Hearts Box Set (Books 1-5)
Standalone
Unmasking a Duke
The Stormswept Stowaway
Christmastide with His Countess
Her Christmas Wish
About the Author
Ellie has always loved reading, writing, and history. For many years she has written short stories, non-fiction, and has worked on her true love and passion -- romance novels.
In every era there is the chance for romance, and Ellie enjoys exploring many different time periods, cultures, and geographic locations. No matter when or where, love can always prevail. She has a particular soft spot for the bad boys of history, and loves a strong heroine in her stories.
Ellie and her husband love nothing more than spending time at home with their two sons and Husky cross. Ellie can typically be found at the lake in the summer, pushing the stroller all year round, and, of course, with her computer in her lap or a book in hand.
She also loves corresponding with readers, so be sure to contact her!
www.elliestclair.com
ellie@elliestclair.com