positioning it closely enough that their knees were touching, their feet and legs tangled.
“What is it about?” he inquired.
“I’m very tiny, and I’m down at the docks. Maybe in London? I’m not certain where it is. There are some boys with me—they might be my brothers. We’re being separated. I have to go away with someone, and I don’t want to. I want to stay with them.”
“You don’t remember if you have brothers?”
“No.”
“How many are there?”
She thought and thought, then said, “Three? There’s always one for sure, and he’s the oldest, but there might be others. Sometimes they’re present and sometimes not. The oldest one claims I shouldn’t be afraid, that he’ll find me.”
“Then what happens?”
“Then…I wake up. I guess the ending must be so heart wrenching that I can’t bear to know what it is.”
“Or perhaps you know the ending. Perhaps he was a child and wasn’t able to come for you.”
“Oh, don’t say it! It would be too depressing.” She forced a smile. “It’s most likely just an orphan’s fantasy due to my desire to have a family.”
“Please don’t tell me you grew up in an orphanage.”
“No, in a boarding school.”
“Thank heaven for that.”
“Yes, my life has been all right—for all I don’t recall the beginning of it. In my first memories, I’m four or so, and I’m at school.”
“But safe and sound?”
“Yes, always safe and sound there.”
She drank down the rest of the liquor, and it visibly relaxed her. As she placed the glass on a nearby table, he studied her.
In the fading firelight, she looked young and pretty and very, very alone. From the moment they’d met she’d fascinated him and that fascination appeared to be increasing at an alarming rate.
She was exhibiting a brave front, but he suspected that if he hadn’t blustered in, she’d be weeping in anguish. Were her memories that ragged?
He wasn’t the sort of person who comforted others. If he’d been asked to describe himself, he’d have said aloof, detached, cold, and stern. But suddenly, he was anxious to comfort her .
Acting on instinct, he didn’t allow better sense to prevail. He drew her onto his lap, dragging her from her chair and onto his own. He spread his legs and balanced her on his thigh. She tried to push away, but he snuggled her down so she was nestled to his chest.
He caressed a soothing hand up and down her back, and he was surprised to discover that he liked it very much. Maybe he wasn’t such an ogre after all. Maybe, deep down, there was a glimmer of humanity lurking beneath the stuffy, pretentious façade he showed to the world.
He’d had his share of romantic entanglements, but he wasn’t a warm or cuddly fellow. He viewed his carnal relationships as commercial transactions: money paid for services rendered. There’d been no tender encounters, no quiet interludes in the dark of night, so he hadn’t realized that affection could be so pleasant. The interval was emotionally charged, but in a way he enjoyed very much.
Eventually, she straightened and gazed at him. Her lush, ruby lips were only an inch from his own, and he couldn’t help but kiss her. He just managed to touch his mouth to hers when she gave him a hard shove and jumped to her feet.
“No, no, no,” she scolded. “We’re not doing this. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
He grabbed her wrist, but she jerked away and stomped across the room. She pulled the door open and hovered next to it, as if—should he say or do the wrong thing—she would run out into the hall.
“What is it you want from me?” she inquired.
“I don’t know.”
“This is the second time you’ve come in here. I’m your guest. I should be safe in your home.”
“Safe—with me? You’re mad if you assume so.”
“If you can’t leave me alone, then I agree with Vicar Bosworth. I need to stay somewhere else until my wedding.”
“No.”
“I’m not a chattel, and I’m not a
“What is it about?” he inquired.
“I’m very tiny, and I’m down at the docks. Maybe in London? I’m not certain where it is. There are some boys with me—they might be my brothers. We’re being separated. I have to go away with someone, and I don’t want to. I want to stay with them.”
“You don’t remember if you have brothers?”
“No.”
“How many are there?”
She thought and thought, then said, “Three? There’s always one for sure, and he’s the oldest, but there might be others. Sometimes they’re present and sometimes not. The oldest one claims I shouldn’t be afraid, that he’ll find me.”
“Then what happens?”
“Then…I wake up. I guess the ending must be so heart wrenching that I can’t bear to know what it is.”
“Or perhaps you know the ending. Perhaps he was a child and wasn’t able to come for you.”
“Oh, don’t say it! It would be too depressing.” She forced a smile. “It’s most likely just an orphan’s fantasy due to my desire to have a family.”
“Please don’t tell me you grew up in an orphanage.”
“No, in a boarding school.”
“Thank heaven for that.”
“Yes, my life has been all right—for all I don’t recall the beginning of it. In my first memories, I’m four or so, and I’m at school.”
“But safe and sound?”
“Yes, always safe and sound there.”
She drank down the rest of the liquor, and it visibly relaxed her. As she placed the glass on a nearby table, he studied her.
In the fading firelight, she looked young and pretty and very, very alone. From the moment they’d met she’d fascinated him and that fascination appeared to be increasing at an alarming rate.
She was exhibiting a brave front, but he suspected that if he hadn’t blustered in, she’d be weeping in anguish. Were her memories that ragged?
He wasn’t the sort of person who comforted others. If he’d been asked to describe himself, he’d have said aloof, detached, cold, and stern. But suddenly, he was anxious to comfort her .
Acting on instinct, he didn’t allow better sense to prevail. He drew her onto his lap, dragging her from her chair and onto his own. He spread his legs and balanced her on his thigh. She tried to push away, but he snuggled her down so she was nestled to his chest.
He caressed a soothing hand up and down her back, and he was surprised to discover that he liked it very much. Maybe he wasn’t such an ogre after all. Maybe, deep down, there was a glimmer of humanity lurking beneath the stuffy, pretentious façade he showed to the world.
He’d had his share of romantic entanglements, but he wasn’t a warm or cuddly fellow. He viewed his carnal relationships as commercial transactions: money paid for services rendered. There’d been no tender encounters, no quiet interludes in the dark of night, so he hadn’t realized that affection could be so pleasant. The interval was emotionally charged, but in a way he enjoyed very much.
Eventually, she straightened and gazed at him. Her lush, ruby lips were only an inch from his own, and he couldn’t help but kiss her. He just managed to touch his mouth to hers when she gave him a hard shove and jumped to her feet.
“No, no, no,” she scolded. “We’re not doing this. I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
He grabbed her wrist, but she jerked away and stomped across the room. She pulled the door open and hovered next to it, as if—should he say or do the wrong thing—she would run out into the hall.
“What is it you want from me?” she inquired.
“I don’t know.”
“This is the second time you’ve come in here. I’m your guest. I should be safe in your home.”
“Safe—with me? You’re mad if you assume so.”
“If you can’t leave me alone, then I agree with Vicar Bosworth. I need to stay somewhere else until my wedding.”
“No.”
“I’m not a chattel, and I’m not a
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