Read Online I Thee Wed by Celeste Bradley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Celeste Bradley
Ads: Link
later and felt quite virtuous for doing so, as if she had decided to eat her vegetables before eating her dessert.
The next doorway, however, led to a place that made her forget all about her tendencies toward crime.
It was the much-vaunted Blayne library. And such a library! The enormous room was two stories high, and as wide as three posh parlors put together. Attie wasnât one for neatness, tidiness, or organization of any kind, except when it came to the cataloging of books. Sheâd sometimes wondered what it would be like to know precisely where to find a certain book anytime she wanted, and not have to search through piles, thinking that perhaps itâd been on the steps, or perhapsit had been in the upstairs hallway, or perhaps it had been in another place altogether.
There was no such worry in this library. It was a room full of gleaming, well-dusted, neatly cataloged books. The leather-clad and gold-stamped spines glowed with all the colors of the rainbow. The shelves rose all the way to the ceiling, with a walkway along the top and an ornate spiral staircase, as well as a curlicue-adorned brass ladder that would slide on rails from one side of the door where she stood apparently all the way around the vast room and back the other side of the door. In the center of the room, arranged on the diagonal, there were more shelves, much higher than her head, polished oak shelves that one could lose oneself in, every single one filled with marvelous, wonderful books. There were more books in this library than sheâd ever seen in one spot in her entire life. Which she was fairly certain made this heaven on Earth.
How could she ever bring herself to leave? Then again, with her skills, she could venture here anytime she liked.
There was enough room around the central stacks to dance, and even though Attie spent most of her time being rather surly, and uncooperative, and very little inclined to do anything that most people would consider girlish, she did love to dance. She danced around and around, whirling in a giant circle claiming the room and casting a delightful spell of ownership, albeit secret and unbeknownst to the true owners, of every single volume in the most beautiful room in the world.
âYou are a lovely dancer,â came a voice from above her head. Attie went still, then dropped into a feral crouch, her head whipping back and forth as her gaze searched the upper story of the library.
She heard a rustle of fabric and a step. Then, from out of the shadows of the upper tier of the library, she saw a form come to the railing. Attie recalled the slight Latin lilt from the âdancerâ comment. It was that girl, the other girl, the one who wasnât Miss Judith Blayne.
Suddenly, Attie thought perhaps she knew why Orion, her dear, logical, coldhearted brother, had been so distracted yesterday.
The girl was quite pretty, with her dark hair, dark eyes, and pleasing mouth. She had a bosom that even Elektra would have envied, although Elektra wouldnât have dusted the house in that dress. However, many people were pretty. That in itself did not make them special.
The girl grinning down at her in a conspiratorial fashion had another, less definable quality. She had a clever, discerning gaze that carried amusement, disappointment, and wonder in equal portions. It was a thing that Attie had seen before only in her own family. Although she had to grudgingly admit that her married siblings, Callie, Cas, and Ellie, had found spouses with a little bit of that quality.
But this girl was something altogether different.
Attie remained where she was, but abruptly dropped her defenses and took a seat on the floor, disregarding her dress. She doubted there was a dust mote running free in this house anywhere, and she wasnât inclined to worry much about her clothing in the first place. She crossed her legs tailor-fashion and leaned back on her hands to gaze at the girl above her, her head
The next doorway, however, led to a place that made her forget all about her tendencies toward crime.
It was the much-vaunted Blayne library. And such a library! The enormous room was two stories high, and as wide as three posh parlors put together. Attie wasnât one for neatness, tidiness, or organization of any kind, except when it came to the cataloging of books. Sheâd sometimes wondered what it would be like to know precisely where to find a certain book anytime she wanted, and not have to search through piles, thinking that perhaps itâd been on the steps, or perhapsit had been in the upstairs hallway, or perhaps it had been in another place altogether.
There was no such worry in this library. It was a room full of gleaming, well-dusted, neatly cataloged books. The leather-clad and gold-stamped spines glowed with all the colors of the rainbow. The shelves rose all the way to the ceiling, with a walkway along the top and an ornate spiral staircase, as well as a curlicue-adorned brass ladder that would slide on rails from one side of the door where she stood apparently all the way around the vast room and back the other side of the door. In the center of the room, arranged on the diagonal, there were more shelves, much higher than her head, polished oak shelves that one could lose oneself in, every single one filled with marvelous, wonderful books. There were more books in this library than sheâd ever seen in one spot in her entire life. Which she was fairly certain made this heaven on Earth.
How could she ever bring herself to leave? Then again, with her skills, she could venture here anytime she liked.
There was enough room around the central stacks to dance, and even though Attie spent most of her time being rather surly, and uncooperative, and very little inclined to do anything that most people would consider girlish, she did love to dance. She danced around and around, whirling in a giant circle claiming the room and casting a delightful spell of ownership, albeit secret and unbeknownst to the true owners, of every single volume in the most beautiful room in the world.
âYou are a lovely dancer,â came a voice from above her head. Attie went still, then dropped into a feral crouch, her head whipping back and forth as her gaze searched the upper story of the library.
She heard a rustle of fabric and a step. Then, from out of the shadows of the upper tier of the library, she saw a form come to the railing. Attie recalled the slight Latin lilt from the âdancerâ comment. It was that girl, the other girl, the one who wasnât Miss Judith Blayne.
Suddenly, Attie thought perhaps she knew why Orion, her dear, logical, coldhearted brother, had been so distracted yesterday.
The girl was quite pretty, with her dark hair, dark eyes, and pleasing mouth. She had a bosom that even Elektra would have envied, although Elektra wouldnât have dusted the house in that dress. However, many people were pretty. That in itself did not make them special.
The girl grinning down at her in a conspiratorial fashion had another, less definable quality. She had a clever, discerning gaze that carried amusement, disappointment, and wonder in equal portions. It was a thing that Attie had seen before only in her own family. Although she had to grudgingly admit that her married siblings, Callie, Cas, and Ellie, had found spouses with a little bit of that quality.
But this girl was something altogether different.
Attie remained where she was, but abruptly dropped her defenses and took a seat on the floor, disregarding her dress. She doubted there was a dust mote running free in this house anywhere, and she wasnât inclined to worry much about her clothing in the first place. She crossed her legs tailor-fashion and leaned back on her hands to gaze at the girl above her, her head
Similar Books
