Free Edith Layton by The Conquest Page B

to recovery.”
    “Not us,” Kit said. “Ally, do go on.”
    “Wait for Rob, or we’ll never hear the end of it,” Vic said.
    Rob hurried back down the steps. “He wants to talk to you, Ally. Go on up and come down quickly.”
    Alexandria put down her book, and went up the stair. She went in the half open door and looked around the bedchamber. Nothing seemed wrong. Her patient lay propped on pillows on her feather tick, covered by the best quilts in the house. A good fire bloomed in the hearth, lamps adding their own mellow light. The windows were securely shuttered, the room was comfortably warm. Her guest had a table near his elbow that held a pitcher of water, medicines to take if he felt pain, and books he said would interest him.
    She looked at Drum. He wore a slightly embarrassed expression. “What is it?” she asked. “Are you in any pain? Do you need anything? I thought you were settled for the night.”
    “So I was,” he said, and let out a long breath. “I—I hear your voices,” he said.
    “Oh. I’m sorry. Did we disturb you? The boys get carried away sometimes, and we forget. I’ll hush them so you can sleep.” She turned to go, closing the door behind her.
    “No!” he cried quickly.
    She turned around and stared at him. “That’s just it,” he said, a little desperately. “I don’t want to sleep. If I were home now, I’d be starting out for the night! My dear Miss Gascoyne, you’ve given me everything an invalid could want. The problem is that I’m not used to being an invalid. I hear your voices downstairs, and…” He flashed her a dizzying smile. “I’ll confess. I want to be in on it. You did get me settled. The problem is that I think of it as being—planted. Yes. Exactly like being planted, watered, then abandoned and forgotten until summer.”
    She put her head to the side. “I’m only reading the boys The Odyssey, commenting on it now and then. It helps their studies.”
    “I read Greek,” Drum said quickly. “I got marvelous marks in history,” he added hopefully. “You were all in here doing that when you thought I was unconscious. Surely my being awake won’t matter? There’s room for Mrs. Tooke too, isn’t there?”
    She smiled. “Surely, there will be.”
    A few minutes later, they’d all reassembled in the invalid’s room. Alexandria picked up her book, and on a sudden inspiration—and a belated fear that her Greek wasn’t as perfect as she wished it to be—laid it down again. She looked at Drum. “Would you care to read?” she asked.
    “I’d be happy to,” he said, putting out a long slender hand. He took the book, and Alexandria leaned over his shoulder to point to where she’d left off.
    Her cheek almost brushed his. He felt the warmth of her, and scented her elusive perfume, his nostrils widening.
    She noticed again that his shoulders were really very broad for such a slender man. He smelled of good soap, and his ink-black hair looked so soft she had to restrain a sudden urge to rest her cheek against it.
    She straightened up and quickly left his side. He forced himself not to look after her. They were both surprised by how unexpectedly intimate the moment had been, even in the midst of company.
    She went to her chair and took up her sewing.
    He picked up the book and began to read smoothly.
    He hadn’t got a whole page read when Rob muttered, “ Wine -dark sea? I don’t understand. I thought I knew that word. But how can a sea be the color of wine? A sea is blue, right?”
    “It’s a metaphor,” Vic said. “Go on, sir, please.”
    “I know what a metaphor is,” Rob said hotly, “and if it is one, it’s a bad one, because water isn’t purple, not by a long shot.”
    “Quiet, Rob,” Kit ordered. “You’ve never seen the sea.”
    “Well, but I have seen a pond,” Rob protested, “and a brook, and pictures of the sea. I read about the ocean too, and it’s always blue. Or green,” he added fairly, “Maybe even gray. But wine