Knight For A Lady by Elizabeth Bailey

Author:Elizabeth Bailey [Bailey, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2019-08-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The heat was stifling. Edith had left her bed-curtains open, unable to tolerate the confinement. It was too reminiscent of the days of waiting for Lord Kilshaw to make a move while he was still at the Fox and Goose, like a spider plotting in the middle of his web.

Despite Niall’s warning, Edith felt freer than she had in days. He had made time to visit the vicarage since the fateful dinner three nights ago, sitting with Edith in the front parlour for an hour and heroically partaking of the scones pressed upon him by Mrs Tuffin. He had behaved impeccably. No mention was made of his desires or his feelings towards Edith.

Indeed, she had felt a trifle piqued. She had no right to and she chided herself for her perversity. She had been the one to demand his silence. She should not be offended when he complied with her wishes.

Although, she reflected, as she gazed into the gathering dark of the late summer night, Niall’s reticence had allowed her feelings to flower. She could no longer deceive herself. She cared for him. Loved him. Too deeply to be willing to give herself to him while trammelled with the taint of the past. He did not deserve that. He had been more than kind, taking up the gauntlet for her even before his interest was fixed. A true knight errant.

She contemplated the inner vision of his countenance, changing to his moods, and caught her breath on a swelling within as the image widened to encompass his manly figure. How well his buckskins encased those muscled legs. Even beneath the cloth of his frockcoat, one could see the power of his arm, the sinews honed, she must suppose, with wielding a sword.

She had not before recognised the pull of her body towards his, yearning to be held in that potent embrace. Edith groaned, turning over in the bed to bury her face in the pillows and pummel the mattress with both feet and hands. Sighing, she relaxed again, throwing her arms up to hold the mound of her pillows, squeezing them as her mind presented her with the broad chest she would fling her arms about if she could.

Frustrated with herself, she turned again, beating her fists beside her on the bed. Stop it, Edith Westacott! Torturing herself would only make it worse.

She took a deep breath and tried to relax, commanding herself to go to sleep. Yet no sooner did she allow her thoughts to drift than back Niall came, invading her mind and smiling in that lopsided fashion which could not but melt her heart all over again.

Giving up all pretence, Edith got up out of her bed, threw a cotton shawl across her shoulders and went to her window. She’d left the drapes only partially drawn and the casement slightly open. Edith threw it wide, breathing of the cooler air and gazing up at the pinpricks of tiny stars just beginning to appear.

Her window overlooked the back garden and a movement drew her eye.

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