Free Sins of Omission by Fern Michaels

Daniel. “And you, my learned friend, will be one of those rich and powerful people who visit Reuben. You will be the most famous lawyer. I feel this,” she said dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest.
    Tea and cakes would be waiting in the library when they returned to the château. After that, they spent an hour on the finer points of bridge and chess. When both were over, after they’d discussed their strategies and errors, Mickey handed out paper and pens and gave a test on what they’d learned during the day. Reuben hated the tests, thinking them juvenile, but he complied. Daniel, on the other hand, loved playing school and always received a beaming smile from Mickey.
    The ninety minutes before dinner were allotted to bathing and choosing the proper attire. Casual suits and dinner jackets had appeared in each of their rooms one day, along with shoes, ties, shirts, belts, socks, and underwear. An old man from the village arrived the day after the clothing did, equipped with tape measure and pins to tailor each article of clothing to perfection.
    Dinner, which was always bountiful, was for eating but also for learning. Which fork, which knife, which glass for which wine; how to open a napkin and how to fold it when finished. They learned how to seat a lady and to help her from the table. Mickey educated their palates to the use of wines and spirits, a skill at which Reuben showed himself to be adept. Mickey said it was yet another indication that he would be a success. If there was anything Daniel disliked, it was lessons in breeding and etiquette, although at Mickey’s rebukes he would merely flush. “I’ll make gentlemen out of you if it’s the last thing I ever do,” she declared with determination.
    Coffee and brandy followed dinner, with talk of the war, what was happening in America, and books. Like Daniel, Mickey was a voracious reader. Their conversations were lively and spirited and usually lasted several hours.
    Finally Mickey would peck each of them lightly on both cheeks, saying, “Well done,” then wave cheerily and retire upstairs to her rooms.
    And always Reuben didn’t know if he was relieved or angry at her sisterly show of affection. When he was alone he admitted that he wanted more. On the third day of his stay he’d decided that Mickey was beautiful. Only at night in his dreams did he allow himself to lust after her. When he woke, frustrated and puzzled, he would punch his fists into the pillows and groan angrily. Why was she torturing him like this? If it was a game, didn’t she know he would be a willing player? But there couldn’t be a game until both players were in agreement and rules set down. Rules…Who makes the first move? Certainly not him; he was a guest. Of course, she was a woman, and as a rule women wanted to be asked, or so he remembered old George saying, but then, most of everything George had said had turned out to be just so much manure.
    Worst of all, he found himself staring at her all the time now, imagining all kinds of wonderful things: how her lips would feel on his, how silky her skin would be, how she’d look lying naked beside him, how she’d taste. It was almost beyond his imagination all the wonderful things an experienced woman like Mickey could do to him. Once when they were walking he thought his head would blow off in excitement when he pictured himself settling urgently between her legs. George had said it was a feeling that had no equal. Mickey had looked at him, looked at him as though she knew what he was thinking. Another time, while they were playing chess, he’d let her capture his knight because he was watching as her pink tongue moistened her lips in concentration on the game. She’d looked fully aware of his thoughts then, too.
    It was a game, Reuben knew it in his gut. Who would weaken first? By God, he’d wait her out no matter how long it took. With that decision