small squeal of surprise and glanced at him with approbation. "What do you think you are doing?" she asked with a briskness that betokened more affront than aggravation.
"Carrying you to this stool, where your hair may be combed out."
At least she made no further protests, instead turning to the looking glass set before the vanity stool on which he had perched her.
"Oh! I do look a fright." she admitted at once, reaching up to comb her fingers through her tangled locks.
Gideon was not so stupid as to reply to such a comment from a female, so instead he made her a bow. "I shall send a maid to you at once. Is ten minutes a long enough time in which to make yourself ready, do you think?·
She stopped raking her fingers through her hair, and looked up at his reflection, their gazes meeting in the silvered surface of the looking glass. "You want these people gone as soon as possible." she stated.
He was faintly intrigued by the way Elizabeth tilted her head. an obvious sign of comprehension. Mama had often not heard his questions, living as she had in a world of her own making, but then again she had also had a habit of blurting out sudden comments or observations just as this lady did. "It is as obvious as that?" he murmured.
"Why is that 0 " she asked. "Why do you not want the ladies to call upon you?"
He was not concerned for what the church ladies would make of him. or even of Elizabeth. If the fates were kind, the ladies would find something to make them whisk the dark-haired lovely from his home. No. what interested him was the clarity with which Elizabeth spoke, the flash of sanity she seemed to exhibit. She was having a "good day." as Mama used to call those days when she appeared alert and aware of the people and situations around her.
He shrugged in answer to her question. "I am not a social man."
"Why not?'
Ah, now there was a question more in keeping with his experience, a question such as a childlike mind would pose, wanting to understand subtleties that could never be explained with mere words.
Instead of answering her. he repeated his earlier question. "Is ten minutes sufficient time to be readied?"
"Yes," she said, turning back to her reflection in the looking glass.
Gideon knew he should turn and leave, but there was something in the set of her shoulders that made him linger a moment, that made him glance once more into the reflection in the looking glass. Their gazes met there, and locked for a moment. How tempting it was to search for sanity and reason there, to hope the clarity of her unblinking gaze meant clarity of mind, but he knew better. God save him from old memories, he knew far better.
He bowed then, annoyed at himself for the stiffness in the gesture, and strode from the room and down the stairs. He went at once to summon a maid to bring a dressing gown—one of Mama's old ones—for Elizabeth. For she surely required something to cover her charms.
Although, he thought with a spike of dark humor, the church ladies might be all the more likely to whisk Elizabeth away from his evil influence were they to see her in the dishabille he had witnessed.
Chapter 7
Blushing, Elizabeth gratefully received the dressing gown from Polly's hands. Lord Greyleigh must have seen what Elizabeth had eventually noticed in the looking glass—the diaphanous nature of her night rail. What must he think of her. stretching and sitting up in a gown that revealed too much?
On the other hand, what was she to think of him? How had he come to be at her bedside, awakening her? Had she been so lost to dreams that she had never heard his knock? Why had a maid not been sent to awaken her?
And what had been that look on his face? For the first time she had caught an expression there other than annoyance or cool indifference. He had appeared almost. . . pained, as if looking upon her had caused him some injury. The thought made her flush with embarrassment, but it was an awkward embarrassment that did not quite make
"Carrying you to this stool, where your hair may be combed out."
At least she made no further protests, instead turning to the looking glass set before the vanity stool on which he had perched her.
"Oh! I do look a fright." she admitted at once, reaching up to comb her fingers through her tangled locks.
Gideon was not so stupid as to reply to such a comment from a female, so instead he made her a bow. "I shall send a maid to you at once. Is ten minutes a long enough time in which to make yourself ready, do you think?·
She stopped raking her fingers through her hair, and looked up at his reflection, their gazes meeting in the silvered surface of the looking glass. "You want these people gone as soon as possible." she stated.
He was faintly intrigued by the way Elizabeth tilted her head. an obvious sign of comprehension. Mama had often not heard his questions, living as she had in a world of her own making, but then again she had also had a habit of blurting out sudden comments or observations just as this lady did. "It is as obvious as that?" he murmured.
"Why is that 0 " she asked. "Why do you not want the ladies to call upon you?"
He was not concerned for what the church ladies would make of him. or even of Elizabeth. If the fates were kind, the ladies would find something to make them whisk the dark-haired lovely from his home. No. what interested him was the clarity with which Elizabeth spoke, the flash of sanity she seemed to exhibit. She was having a "good day." as Mama used to call those days when she appeared alert and aware of the people and situations around her.
He shrugged in answer to her question. "I am not a social man."
"Why not?'
Ah, now there was a question more in keeping with his experience, a question such as a childlike mind would pose, wanting to understand subtleties that could never be explained with mere words.
Instead of answering her. he repeated his earlier question. "Is ten minutes sufficient time to be readied?"
"Yes," she said, turning back to her reflection in the looking glass.
Gideon knew he should turn and leave, but there was something in the set of her shoulders that made him linger a moment, that made him glance once more into the reflection in the looking glass. Their gazes met there, and locked for a moment. How tempting it was to search for sanity and reason there, to hope the clarity of her unblinking gaze meant clarity of mind, but he knew better. God save him from old memories, he knew far better.
He bowed then, annoyed at himself for the stiffness in the gesture, and strode from the room and down the stairs. He went at once to summon a maid to bring a dressing gown—one of Mama's old ones—for Elizabeth. For she surely required something to cover her charms.
Although, he thought with a spike of dark humor, the church ladies might be all the more likely to whisk Elizabeth away from his evil influence were they to see her in the dishabille he had witnessed.
Chapter 7
Blushing, Elizabeth gratefully received the dressing gown from Polly's hands. Lord Greyleigh must have seen what Elizabeth had eventually noticed in the looking glass—the diaphanous nature of her night rail. What must he think of her. stretching and sitting up in a gown that revealed too much?
On the other hand, what was she to think of him? How had he come to be at her bedside, awakening her? Had she been so lost to dreams that she had never heard his knock? Why had a maid not been sent to awaken her?
And what had been that look on his face? For the first time she had caught an expression there other than annoyance or cool indifference. He had appeared almost. . . pained, as if looking upon her had caused him some injury. The thought made her flush with embarrassment, but it was an awkward embarrassment that did not quite make
Similar Books
Analog SFF, June 2011
Dell Magazine Authors
This Battle Lord's Quest
Linda Mooney
Starting Over
Marissa Dobson
The Stiff and the Dead
Lori Avocato
Sandra Chastain
Firebrand
Plague Of The Revenants
Edward Chilvers
Resurrecting Harry
Constance Phillips
Nocturnal
Nathan Field
Eye of the Oracle
Bryan Davis