A Song at Twilight by Pamela Sherwood

Author:Pamela Sherwood
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall

And she me caught in her arms long and small

Therewithal sweetly did me kiss,

And softly said, “Dear heart, how like you this?”

—Sir Thomas Wyatt, “They Flee From Me”

At any hour of the day, Paddington station swarmed with activity as hordes of travelers descended from the trains or rushed to board them. Shrouded in steam, the engines squatted in position like mechanical dragons, their doors gaping open to receive or disgorge passengers. Now and then a whistle blew, mournful and imperative at once.

Valise in hand, a copy of The Times tucked under one arm, Robin strode along the platform toward the first-class carriages, glancing through the windows of various compartments. At last he spied one that looked almost empty, except for a veiled woman in a plain dark dress sitting by the window, her nose buried in a book.

Without hesitation, he opened the door and stepped up into the compartment.

“Madam, if I may?” he inquired with perfect formality, as he closed the door behind him.

The woman glanced up from her book, bestowed upon him a look of cool appraisal—just discernible through her veil—and inclined her head, before returning her attention to whatever she had been reading.

Curious, Robin glanced at the spine of her book: The Huntsman Winds His Horn by Lewis Wells, a popular author of detective stories. Well, at least it wasn’t Marie Corelli or someone equally dire. Amused all the same, he stowed his valise in the overhead rack, took the seat opposite her, shook out his newspaper ostentatiously, and began to read as well. A lady and a gentleman, sitting in silent, solitary decorum: two strangers who could not be less interested in one another. A few minutes later, the train’s whistle wailed and they pulled out of the station.

Much to Robin’s relief, no other passengers entered their compartment. After the conductor had collected their tickets and departed, he moved almost casually to sit beside his fellow passenger. He felt her entire body relax as he seated himself, and caught the glimmer of laughter in her sea-green eyes beneath that absurd veil.

He found himself grinning like a schoolboy, caught up in the lunacy of this entire escapade. “Minx! A Spanish duenna couldn’t have improved upon that look!”

Sophie stifled a giggle. “Was I that convincing? I did feel I had to be, just in case we acquired an audience.”

“You effectively thicked my blood with cold,” he assured her. “Fortunately, we’re still alone, so you can dispense with the basilisk stare for now.”

“With pleasure. But I must confess,” she added in a low voice, tucking back her veil, “I feel as if I’m performing in a French farce.”

“The only thing missing is a bed,” he murmured, and saw her flush deliciously.

She lowered her gaze, deceptively demure. “That will come into play soon enough.”

The thought was enough to send a hot rush of arousal through him, but, mindful of their surroundings, he contented himself with taking her hand. Their fingers twined together, as intimate as a kiss.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.