“Do you have a library?”
He heard the eager note in her voice that told him she loved books. “Indeed I do have a library whose bookshelves reach to the ceiling.”
She gave him a radiant smile. “Then how can I resist?”
He dismounted in a flash, quickly tethered their mounts, and came to her side. He took a deep appreciative breath, inhaling her fragrance of lemon verbena. This time he did not offer his arms because he knew she was perverse enough to reject him.
Douglas suspected it was a shrewd calculation on his part, because that is exactly what she had planned to do. She slid from the saddle, making sure her shapely legs clad in the soft leather boots were displayed for his enjoyment. As they climbed the steps together, she realized she only came up to his shoulder, and his powerful build made her feel extremely feminine.
He opened the heavy door and her skirt brushed against his legs as she walked into the entrance hall. A male servant nodded to the master, then discreetly disappeared. It made Douglas wonder just how frequently females visited Beaumont Hall.
She was drawn to the Great Hall by the crackling fire. He towered beside her as she held out her hands to the welcome heat.
I could warm my hands at your blazing hair.
She glanced up at him as if she had heard his thought.
“My hospitality is remiss. Would you prefer wine or mulled ale?”
She stared about the room and saw the wine table with its crystal decanters. “Mulled ale, please.”
He hid his amusement. “I thought you would. I’ll fetch a barrel of ale from the still-room. Why don’t you wait for me in the library?”
“A brilliant suggestion.” The library opened off the Great Hall, and when Douglas saw the spacious room with its leather-bound volumes stretching up to the ceiling, she was once again consumed with envy. There were almost too many books to comprehend.
Her attention was caught by a silver reflection of light on the polished oak desk, and it drew her like a lodestone. The exquisite object was a large mirrored pendant. She picked it up reverently and stared into its depths in awe. She had never seen anything quite like it before and she coveted it with all her heart. She ran her finger over the delicate silver filigree and touched her fingertip to the glittering emeralds that formed a vine. She wondered if the flowers could possibly be cabochon diamonds.
Suddenly, she saw the reflection of a dark face in the mirror. She gasped and spun around guiltily to find Greystoke behind her.
“I thought your fascination was books, but I see you are also drawn toobjets d’art.”
“Only if they are priceless!” she assured him.
He set down the two mugs of ale he was carrying on a small table before the library fire, took the poker and shoved it into the coals. When it glowed red he thrust the poker into the ale, heating it until it foamed. He handed her a mug and gestured toward a pair of cushioned chairs beside the desk.
Douglas sat down, lifted the ale to her lips, and took a few swallows with lusty appreciation. “Thank you. It’s delicious. I warrant you brew it yourself.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s almost as good as the ale my brother brews,” she teased. Her eyes were drawn back to the mirrored medallion. “How old is that lovely pendant?”
“I would guess it is quite ancient. I believe it is a Byzantine treasure brought back from the Crusades. It belonged to my grandmother.”
“A gift from a besotted lover perhaps?”
His dark eyes licked over her like a candle flame. “Perhaps.”
Douglas stood up and strolled to the bookshelves, avidly reading the titles as she drank her ale. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s library, she admonished herself with a sigh, but I could stay in this room for weeks and never want to leave. She drained her tankard and threw him a reluctant glance. “Unfortunately, all good things must end. I thank you for your hospitality Lance Greystoke, but now I must bid you adieu.”
“The pleasure was mine, Firebrand.”
Her mouth curved. “Yes, I rather think it was.”
~~~
“Where the devil have ye been, Douglas?” Young Rob Elliot put the salmon he had just caught into the deep basket attached to his saddle. “Yer a right bitch of a sister, roaming off for hours. We’d best get back over the Border before the light starts to fade.”
She tossed her head. “Neither England nor her inhabitants intimidate me.”
