The Incorrigible Lady Catherine by Elena Greene

Author:Elena Greene
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Let us go down to my study. It is too chilly here for us to talk.”

Catherine could see how eager Philip was to hear her story, so she gathered her courage and turned to follow him down the corridor. They were probably safe from interruption. The servants were all asleep on the third floor, and it was unlikely that any of the family would awaken, as long as she and Philip were quiet. Softly, they went down the carpeted passageway and down the stairs. As her bare feet hit the ice-cold stone floor of the hall, Catherine winced, and involuntarily stepped back onto the last carpeted step.

“Give me your candle,” Philip whispered.

She obeyed. He set both candles down on a table, then surprised a gasp out of her by picking her up. At first she stiffened, then leaned unresisting against his warm chest, her heart pounding furiously at the intimate contact, at the feel of his arms, one clasping her back, the other around her legs. With little apparent effort, he carried her across the hall toward his study, where she could see a fire still burning. Though a rug covered the floor, he did not set her down until he had reached a comfortable-looking chair by the fire.

She settled into the chair, trying to ignore the riotous feelings being clasped against his chest had inspired in her. She curled her feet under her and wrapped the shawl around herself as discreetly as possible. If she invited any more lovemaking, she would lose any shreds of judgment she still possessed.

She looked around as Philip put another log onto the fire. She had never been in his study before. It was a good-sized room. She was not surprised to see that most of its walls were covered with bookshelves filled nearly to overflowing. By now she knew that Philip’s parents had placed a greater importance on the education of their children than was customary for those of their station in life. She knew Philip had studied at Oxford and was a voracious reader of anything from the classics to modern poetry.

She looked back at him, and watched as he stirred the fire to a cheery blaze.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Perhaps you would care for a drink?” He walked to a sideboard beyond his desk. From a decanter sitting there, he poured small amounts of golden liquid into two glasses.

“What is it?”

“Uisge beatha,” he intoned. “The water of life. I got this while visiting a friend in Scotland.”

“Do you think to loosen my tongue with it?” she asked.

He smiled, handing her the glass. “Would that I could. No, I only wish you to be comfortable.”

He sat down in a chair on the other side of the fire and drank his drink. Catherine gazed at the tiny amount of amber-colored fluid in her glass, and took a cautious sip. It seemed to burn her mouth, and all the way down her throat.

“My, that is strong!” she said. She coughed, and felt a sudden rush of additional warmth course through her veins.

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