Fans of Eloisa James & Julia Quinn discussion
Monday Puzzler
>
Monday, Oct. 20, 2014: An Apology
date
newest »
newest »
Mod
In the post above, I think you have named the Heroine once. perhaps you wish to remove it? Oh, btw, I have no idea on this one!
Mod
Mod
Mod
Mod
Yay!I think you'll enjoy them, Deb!"
“Good morning,” she said stiffly. “Are you ready for luncheon?” She carefully avoided addressing him as “my lord,” as the doctor delighted in doing. It was her room. She was fighting for her rights as mistress of it and her house.
“Why, thank you, yes, I am,” he said. “The doctor said I can have more than gruel and I confess I’m looking forward to it. If you can restrain yourself from adding rat poison. Look, Miss Gascoyne, I didn’t mean to sound like an…the way I did. I only spoke truth. If I could, I’d leave on the instant. But I can’t. Believe me, you also can’t know how sorry I am to impose on you like this.”
“It’s nothing,” she lied. “Now Mrs. Tooke’s here, we can both relax. I’ll introduce her to you soon.” She forced herself to meet those knowing eyes. “She’s very respectable. In fact, she comes from a fine family. You should have much in common, actually. She’s only in this little village because she married beneath herself, they say. Doubtless you can commiserate about having to tolerate lesser beings. Now. Some soup and a wing of chicken?”
“Touché,” he said, wincing. “I deserve it, I suppose. And though I don’t deserve such a fine luncheon, I’d very much appreciate whatever you bring me.”
She turned. “I’ll just get your tray.”
“A moment, please,” he said. “There’s something else I’d like to say. Please listen. It may be oafish of me to remind you, but after all, we don’t know if I’ll still be here to say it by the time you get back, do we?"
HEROINE’s head shot up. She stared at him, and a slow blush warmed her cheeks. “Oh, lord!” she said. “I forgot. You heard every word we said downstairs, didn’t you? I should have thought…”
“You were otherwise occupied,” he said with a small smile. “Look, Miss HEROINE, I want you to know that I wouldn’t want me as a guest. At least, not in this condition. It was kind and generous of you to take in a wounded stranger, and being repaid by suspicion can’t have been pleasant. My suspicions were as crude as they were rude. I apologize. All I wanted to ask is if you could get me paper and a pen so I can write some letters to cancel some appointments, and most important, let my household know where I am and what I need. I’d like to get things moving so that I can unburden you as soon as possible.”
She paused. It was nicely said, there was no denying it. She might as well be gracious too. “I will,” she said, “but it might be better if you dictated your letters. Otherwise we’d have to bring in a lap desk, and the way your leg feels right now I doubt it would be practical. I’ll be glad to write them out for you—if they’re not too personal, that is?”
“No, I’ll save my love letters until I can remember more poetry,” he said wryly. “All that springs to mind at the moment is Richard’s lament for a horse, and various funeral odes.”
“‘How are the mighty fallen,’” she quoted, low. But not so low that she didn’t win a sudden amused smile from him. It felt so good to have someone understand her so readily that she changed the subject. “Well then, I’ll be happy to write any letters for you. Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked.
“Don’t forgive me that quickly,” he said, grinning. “I deserve a week of cold shoulders and cutting looks, at least. As for what you can get me? Do you think you could manage a new leg? I suppose not. Ah, well, I’d be delighted by luncheon and a letter or two, then some of the doctor’s delicious poppy extract. That’s exhilaration enough for now. I’ll try to sleep the rest of the day away.”
“You don’t have to drug yourself into submission on my account,” she said quickly.
“I assure you, it’s on mine,” he said. “The poppy leads to strange dreams, but they’re better than the reality of my condition just now. Strange indeed…” he mused. “Do you know, when I first found myself here, and you were all here in the room with me, talking, I thought I was abroad because I couldn’t understand a word I overheard. It was all Greek to me. Literally.”
She hesitated, then smiled. “Oh, that. That was reality. I was reading The Odyssey to the boys. For their lessons.”
“In the original?” he asked, astonished.
“Yes, their father was a schoolmaster.” she said coolly. “He insisted the boys be educated. I’m a mere female, but they were at it so much I couldn’t help learning some of it. At least so I was told, and so I was allowed to learn more.”
“Forgive me,” he said. “I put my foot wrong again, didn’t I? Maybe because the other one hurts so much. The damn…deuced thing hurts like blazes. I can bear that. But the doctor said I have to lie still to help it mend. That’s hard for me. So I’ll take the medicine until I can stump around and shake off the fidgets. I’m not a convenient patient, but I’ll try to be an obedient one. The less I do, the faster I’ll heal. And I will, I promise. I’m not ready to die just yet.” He slanted her a conspiratorial smile. “Only the good die young, remember?”