Free When I'm with You by Kimberly Nee Page A

was huge and airy, and sometimes Katie wished she could curl up on one of the exquisite, gilt-edged sofas and while away several hours reading from one of the thick volumes.
    A sigh touched her lips as she crouched and flicked her cloth over the legs of one table. Unless she greatly improved, the chances of her reading much more than a grocery list were nil. She still stumbled over the simplest of words, which frustrated her to no end. Two nights earlier, Martha had actually scolded her because, in a temper, Katie had flung the book across the room, scratching its leather cover, and the volume was one of his Lordship’s tomes. “Martha?”
    â€œYes?”
    She straightened up, and her knees and spine cracked in unison. “Do you think we might have a chance to work on my reading tonight?”
    â€œI don’t see why not. As long as you promise not to throw anything like you did the night we snuck in here to read one of his Lordship’s books.”
    â€œI promise. I feel terrible about what happened to that poor crystal duck. It didn’t deserve such an ending.”
    â€œAs do I. I told his Lordship a strong wind must have blown it off its shelf, but I don’t think he believed me.”
    â€œIt’s just so frustrating. When I want to do something, I just want to be able to do it. This struggle drives me mad. It seems I’ll never master reading.”
    Martha swiped at one of the lower panes. “You will. You just need to be patient. When you start to get frustrated, count to ten. Take a deep breath. Get up and go for a walk. The more you fight, the harder it becomes.”
    â€œThe same could be said of a lot of things.”
    With her back to the doorway, Katie couldn’t see who’d come into the library, but it didn’t matter. She would know the low rumble of Rafe’s voice in the darkness. It made her back straighten just a little, and she turned to find him standing in the doorway. Unlike Lord Marchand, who was never without frock coat and cravat, Rafe tended to dress down, more like he had aboard his ship. His buff-colored breeches were obviously sewn from fine fabric, but they looked soft and comfortable, and his shirt of white lawn set off the duskiness of his sun-kissed skin. The neck of his shirt was open, probably more than was considered modest, and he wore neither waistcoat nor frock coat. Come to think of it, she couldn’t recall ever seeing him in a cravat.
    And no woman with a pulse would ever complain about his lack of fashionable attire.
    â€œHave either of you ladies seen Lord Marchand?” As his gaze alit on her, Katie swore she felt a spark, as if he’d actually touched her. Silly, of course, but it made her breath catch. From the corner of her eye, she caught the odd look Martha shot her way, and it was enough to make her shake off her idiocy. “He’s in the breakfast room, Captain Sebastiano.”
    â€œThank you.” Rafe flashed her the same grin that was probably responsible for weak female knees from here to St. Phillippe and all points between, and turned to leave them both staring after him.
    â€œI could eat him with a spoon,” Martha said in a low voice. “Just eat him right up. He’s so beautiful.”
    That was exactly how Katie felt. A slow spoon, if there even was such a thing. Rafe was striking, and he knew it, and he was the sort to use it to his advantage at every turn. She swallowed hard, still staring at the now-empty doorway. “He’s going to marry Lady Sally.”
    The words sounded hollow and odd. Hopefully, when he and Lady Sally married, they would live far from Marchand Hall. Perhaps Rafe would even insist they live on St. Phillippe. Katie wasn’t sure she was strong enough to look at the happy couple every day if they took up residence in Marchand Hall. She felt ill just thinking about Rafe and Lady Sally together. How on earth would she cope with it when the thought