Of One Heart by Cynthia Wright

Author:Cynthia Wright [Wright, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Cynthia Challed
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

April 4-6, 1533

Andrew and Micheline ate a light supper that night, then adjourned to the second-floor library. A pile of letters and accounts due waited on Sandhurst's desk, so he sat down to review them while Micheline happily perused the bookshelves.

"What a wonderful collection!" she exclaimed.

He glanced up and smiled absently. "I'm glad you think so. The library at Sandhurst Manor is much more extensive, and perhaps I shouldn't allow you access to it."

She whirled around in alarm. "Why not?"

"There's always the possibility that you might bury yourself in books and forget about your husband."

There was a gleam in his brown eyes that made her blush. "You are wrong, my lord. That possibility does not exist if you are to be the husband in question."

"I do believe I am, unless the prospect of becoming Rupert's relative has given you second thoughts." Sandhurst spoke absently as he sorted through a stack of long-neglected business.

"Oh, no, I can tolerate Rupert," Micheline was replying. "I'm sure I'll deal perfectly well with your family. I must say, though, that it is difficult to comprehend that you and Rupert were sired by the same man!"

He broke the seal on a letter and smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Deciding to venture forth a bit further on the subject of Rupert, Micheline said, "Actually I feel rather sorry for him. He seems to mean well, and although I understand why he irritates you, I can't help thinking that—"

"Sweeting, at any other time I would love to chat with you, but right now I really must see to all this correspondence that's accumulated over the past two months."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry."

Sandhurst didn't seem to hear. Micheline watched him for a while, enjoying the sight of his serious, candlelit expression. Shadows played over his cheekbones and the firm line of his jaw. From time to time he would run his fingers through his ruffled hair or touch the swan's feather to his mouth before making an entry in his ledger.

The books! she reminded herself at last, and turned around to confront them. A bright fire blazed in the white stone fireplace nearby, and there were beeswax candles in sconces on every vertical beam between the library shelves, affording Micheline enough light to read the titles.

There were books on every subject: philosophy, languages, proverbs, geography, medicine, chemistry, botany, and history. In addition, Micheline discovered volumes of poetry, songs, memoirs, drama, and even romance. Many she had already read and knew that English translations had been made, yet Andrew kept the original versions.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," she exclaimed after an hour had passed, "but I am so curious! Have you read all of these?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. Most of those books are duplicates of my favorites from the library at Sandhurst Manor," he answered without looking up.

Micheline was impressed. Her thoughts skipped back to the night they'd spent at Queen Eleanor's cottage, when she had been amazed to learn that the man she believed to be lowborn had been to school.

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