Beware of Virtuous Women by Michaels Kasey

Author:Michaels, Kasey [Michaels, Kasey]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9781460305447
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2006-05-02T07:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Eleanor sat in the drawing room with her leather case open on her lap, paging through the watercolors she'd painted from memory, or what she thought to be her memory.

Knew to be her memory...

Jacko had taken her portfolio with him when he'd gone off for over a week a few years ago, then come back to her with them. He'd walked into her bedchamber unannounced, handed her the watercolors, nodded his head once, and then left again.

Neither Jacko nor Eleanor nor her papa had ever spoken more than a few times about the watercolors, what they meant, what any of her slow, painful recollections meant. The implications. She hadn't told Jacko that she'd also remembered what had happened that last terrible day, and his part in the horror. All she'd at last said to her papa was that she had decided she would be happiest remaining at Becket Hall.. .and he had agreed.

Some things, things that could not be changed, were best left alone. Her real name. Her childhood home. Jacko and those last minutes before her escape from Chance's arms and her terrified run across the flaming decks.

And Papa. Always, everywhere, the kind, gentle, guilty Ainsley Becket.

She should have destroyed the watercolors. But how could she do that, when they were all she had of the first six years of her life? She'd actually enjoyed looking at them, or had until she'd come to London.

Eleanor shut the case and propped it next to her seat before rubbing at her left calf, not even realizing what she was doing.

"Another cramp, Eleanor?"

She looked up, startled, because she had been waiting seemingly forever to hear the front door close in the foyer below, been listening for the sound of Jack's voice. "No, er, no, I'm fine, thank you." She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap. "It's habit, I believe," she said, looking at him as he walked into the room, so very male, sending her thoughts slamming back to the previous night: how his body had felt against hers, the way he'd held her, the way he'd breathed her name, the way he'd brought her fully alive.

Now here he was, and she couldn't find any words, was more nervous than she'd been in her life. How could two people share such intense intimacy, then be unable to meet each other's eyes? Because Jack seemed to have developed some sort of fascination with the wine decanter he'd lifted, now held in his hand, still not removing the crystal stopper, filling his glass.

Eleanor felt her throat tightening, wondered where all the air in the large room had gone, because she was having trouble catching her breath.

Jack turned to Eleanor, holding up the decanter. He felt like a raw youth, and the feeling unsettled him, added to the anger he'd carried home with him. "Would you...?"

"No. No, thank you," Eleanor said, then looked down at her entwined fingers. "Urn... Treacle summoned a glazier and the window is repaired."

"Good

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