Free To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) by Jane Charles Page B

had
insinuated they liked the sight of his form as well, but they had
been mistresses and were paid to do so. The reaction by one who was
not required to show interest was another thing entirely.
    A smile pulled at his lips as he poured of
splash of brandy in his glass.
    Veronica used to say she couldn’t keep her
hands away. He felt the same about her. Thoughts of Veronica had
kept him alive on the continent, through the ugliness of the
battles and while recovering from his wounds. All he could think
about when he traveled home was returning to her, their bed and
making love to her until it was impossible to do so any longer. He
never got the chance.
    Vincent tossed back the glass of brandy and
poured another.
    That night was not her fault. Her death was
not her fault, but his. No, the blame lay elsewhere.
    He sighed and set the glass aside. At least
he wasn’t thinking about Miss Crawford any longer and may be able
to return to sleep. He wondered if Miss Crawford realized her eyes
turned a dark grey when she was aroused.
    Vincent groaned. The thoughts of Miss
Crawford being aroused were not helping his current situation.
    How could he be thinking about Veronica and Miss Crawford, and the arousal they both brought? He
picked up the glass and tossed back the contents. Was it disloyal
to think of another woman, be painfully aroused by her, when
thoughts of his former wife floated in his brain?
    Yes, he should and the guilt was welcoming,
for it cooled his loins. Thank goodness because between the
servants moving furniture and his physical state, Vincent was
convinced he would not have been able to return to sleep.
    With a sigh, he placed the glass back on the
table, removed his dressing gown and crawled back into bed.
    A large piece of wood knocked against his
door. Vincent tried to shut out the noise.
    “Oh, please, we must be quiet,” Miss Crawford
insisted. She must be on the other side of his door for her words
were clear even though they were low in volume. A low, sultry
tone.
    Is that how she would sound in the throes of
passion?
    Vincent sat up. He must not think of Miss
Crawford in the throes of passion. That would keep him awake longer
than the banging outside his door.
    “Be careful,” she pleaded. “Don’t hit the
walls or the door.”
    Vincent stood. He would never get a wink of
sleep while she was in the hall, right outside his bedroom. He
grabbed a pair of trousers and a shirt. With quick movements he was
dressed and grabbed a pillow from his bed before he stomped forward
and yanked the door open.
    As before, all eyes focused on him. Miss
Crawford’s wider than the others, her face paled with fright. Was
he really such a scary person?
    “I believe I will find rest elsewhere.” He
stomped past them and down the hall until he reached the stairs.
Where was he to go? Noise, and Miss Crawford, were on this floor.
They were moving furniture above, and the students were probably
taking lessons below.
    His house had been invaded and he was without
a place of his own. There had to be somewhere. Ah, yes, the cellar.
A chaise and chairs had been moved down there when he and Veronica
had first married. After an intimate moment in the wine cellar, she
had deemed it one of her favorite rooms and set about making it as
comfortable as possible, in the event such activities occurred
again, in the future.
    Sadly, Vincent could not recall if they had.
Oh, he wished he could remember. What did that say about his love
for her, if he could not recall such important details?
    The servants stopped what they were doing
when he marched past them in the kitchen and took the stairs to the
cellar. Let them think what they will.
     
    * * *
     
    Tess stood in the hallway, list in hand, and
assigned the rooms. She wanted the girls settled, with their things
put away, before dinner. Though she hated that Lord Atwood was
forced to leave his chambers and find refuge elsewhere, it did make
her job a bit easier.
    The younger ones were