Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy by Luccia Gray

Author:Luccia Gray
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2016-06-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter XVII Manderley

The following two weeks flew by. The weather improved, flowers started blooming and I realised St. Ives was a wondrous place. The morning sun flooded through the windows like stardust, the evening sky reminded me of fresh peaches, and the night stars were like sequins on a velvet evening dress. If I were a painter, I should be inspired to paint beautiful pictures of the sea and the sky, which were never the same colour for more than an hour. Nevertheless, today I was worried about an invitation. Michael and I needed to mix with the local people, but there were still so many lies. It did not seem right to be deceitful to people who offered their friendship, but at the moment we had no choice.

“What’s wrong, Jane?”

I slipped my lips along his jaw, kissed the side of his mouth and smiled. “How do you know something’s wrong?”

He ran his finger down my cheek. “I’ll tell you how.” He brushed his lips across mine. “In a moment.” He deepened the kiss and nothing else mattered as I slipped into a dream world.

He broke the kiss. “Because of the way you said ‘Michael’.”

“Really?” I pushed my fingers through his hair. “How did I say, ‘Michael’?”

“Just now the ‘i’ was almost a whisper, so you wanted me to kiss you.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, you did. That’s why I kissed you, and I will, again, when I answer your question.”

“What question?”

“When you’re worried, the ‘i’ is high and long, so I rush to your side and ask you what you need.”

“Do you?”

“Always. And when it’s quick and the ‘k’ is louder than the ‘i’, you’re angry.”

“Never with you.”

“With someone else, and you need me to do something about it.”

“You know all that just by listening to me say your name?”

I nodded. “I’ve been listening to you say my name dozens of times every day for seven years.”

“Michael,” I said softly and he kissed me.

“In fact, I don’t even need to hear you speak. I can tell how you’re feeling by listening to you move.”

I took a step back and twirled like a ballerina. “Like this?”

“Come here,” he said and pulled me into his arms. “When you’re worried you take small steps to the fireplace and back, when you’re distressed I can hear your palm smooth your dress. When you’re angry your dress rustles past the legs of the chairs and tables on your way to the window, and when you’re very upset, your palms press on the panes.”

“And when I want you to hold me?”

“Then there’s silence. You’re sitting dreamily, but I can hear your breathing quicken when I approach.”

“Can you?”

“Yes, and I can hear your smile as I walk in the room.”

“Since when?”

“Since I first saw you, by the window in Diana’s house. I swear I could hear the sun’s rays bouncing on your hair.” He strummed his fingers through my almost shoulder-length tresses, as he liked to do. “Do you remember I couldn’t speak when I met you?”

“Of course I remember.

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