Read Online Household by Florence Stevenson - Free Book Online Page B

have been on my way back to our castle instead of being here in this horrid place amongst these devils, who make a mockery of all that’s pure and holy. You think I do not know you for what you are, but I do, and oh, may Christ and all his saints have mercy on me!” Disappointment and chagrin warred with a deep sense of shame. Richard knew she had to be telling the truth. Much as he wanted her, he could never take her under these conditions. He had to save some of the shreds of his honor. Striding to the door of the cell, he called loudly, “Let us out. I beg you’ll let us out!”
    Laughter greeted his cry—laughter from the other cells—but there were also footsteps in the hall, swift footsteps that brought the young servant to stare wide-eyed through the grill.
    “What do you wish, my Lord?”
    “I wish to be taken to Sir Francis,” Richard told him curtly.
    ❖
    Still in his monk’s robes, Sir Francis joined Richard in a small octagonal chamber furnished with an octagonal table flanked by eight chairs. Pushed against one wall was a long graceful sofa, carved with gryphons and unicorns and covered with his favorite green damask to match green walls, ornamented with genuine Persian miniatures. Through tall French windows, Richard could see a portion of the garden. A wind had risen and the swaying shadows of the tree branches were moon-projected upon the floor.
    “Well,” Sir Francis said, eying Richard with some surprise, “you seem to be in a sad taking, my friend. Did my servant inform me correctly? Is your Catlin actually a virgin?”
    “Indeed, she is, damn it,” Richard muttered resentfully. “I know truth when I hear it. She’s a virgin and a lady.”
    “Both conditions are subject to change,” Sir Francis murmured.
    “Not through me,” Richard snapped.
    “A man of honor, I see.”
    “I wish that were true,” Richard said heavily, “but I fear you’ll not get her to agree. I acted impulsively, foolishly. I thought... but no matter. I pray you’ll send her home.”
    “If that is you wish...”
    “It is what she wishes,” Richard stressed.
    “Very well. I’ll have her removed from the... Corridor of Delights. As a virgin, I am sure she’s of no mind to be stimulated by what she hears.” Moving to a silken tassel hanging on the wall near the door, Sir Francis pulled it twice. In a few seconds, the boy returned. “Bring me Miss O’Neill,” Sir Francis ordered.
    In a short time, Catlin came in. Evidently, she had been weeping bitterly, and though she was now making an effort to subdue her sobs, she was not successful. Her face was suffused with blushes, and she clutched her transparent robe about her with hands and arms employed to hide as much as possible.
    “Obviously, a virgin,” Sir Francis commented. He gave her a reassuring smile. “My dear child, a great effort has been made and I, a party to it. My sincere apologies. I pray you’ll sit down.” He waved at the sofa. “You see there are pillows. I beg you’ll make use of ’em until I send for your garments.”
    She nodded miserably, and sitting down, she clutched the proffered protections tight against her, looking at neither man and keeping her shamed gaze seemingly upon a bouquet of golden flowers embroidered on a green satin pillow.
    Moving swiftly to a decanter standing on a side table, Sir Francis poured wine into three goblets, handing one to Catlin, who shook her head, evidently still unable to speak for the sobs that wracked her slender body.
    “Come,” Sir Francis said softly. “’Twill calm your nerves, and you need not fear it. I, too, am drinking from that same bottle, and I hope Richard will join us. Poor lady, as you can see he’s much cast down for sure. As I think you must agree, virgins are at a premium upon our English stages.” Sir Francis held out the third goblet. “Richard?”
    Richard accepted the drink. “I thank you,” he responded dully, wishing he could throw that same wine in his