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‘Yes, indeed.’ Her emphatic agreement had him smiling in earnest. He got to his feet and held out his hand. Elinor put hers in it and managed to smile back. ‘It is such a…crowded feeling. I think it makes the Greek myths a lot easier to comprehend.’
Theo gave a snort of laughter, hastily choked back. ‘Shh! We are getting close to the bedchambers. Do you want to explain to Aunt Louisa that we have been discussing mythology?’
On the threshold of her room he stopped and looked down at her for a long moment. ‘I am not going to kiss you goodnight, Nell.’
‘Very wise.’ She put one hand on his shoulder, stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his cheek. ‘Goodnight, Theo.’
‘Goodnight, Nell.’
The clock struck four and Elinor yawned, her jaw cracking, as she dragged off her clothes and stumbled into bed. Theo was wrong, she decided as she began to drift off to sleep. It was possible to understand this physical desire intellectually. The trouble was, it seemed impossible to make her body understand as well.
Chapter Eleven
‘I don’t remember you wearing this dress yesterda
y, Miss Elinor.’
Elinor looked up from her sleepy contemplation of her cup of chocolate to find Jeanie holding up the green walking dress, crumpled and dusty. The chateau’s staff did not dust under desks, she thought, then caught herself before she said so. ‘I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and walked about,’ she explained, stifling a yawn.
‘What, in this spooky old place?’ Jeanie shuddered dramatically. ‘I wouldn’t set foot outside my door in the dark, that’s for sure, no matter what I heard outside.’
It took a moment or two for that statement to penetrate Elinor’s drowsy brain. ‘You heard something in the night? What, exactly?’
‘Footsteps, and knockings and sounds like stones shifting,’ the maid said, eyes wide, clothes brush suspended in mid stroke.
‘Really? How odd. But then old buildings always sound odd if you aren’t used to them,’ Elinor said, suddenly no longer tired. She set her cup down. ‘Where exactly are you lodged?’
Jeanie proved to have a poor sense of direction and even poorer descriptive skills. Eventually, with the help of the plan, Elinor pinpointed her room. ‘You are on the ground floor?’ That was odd for servants’ rooms. Then she realised that it was part of the oldest wing and was immediately over the ancient cellars and dungeons. Presumably all the family and guest rooms were in the more modern parts of the building.
‘Is Mr Ravenhurst up, do you know?’ She slid out of bed and went to look out of the window. The sun was already brilliant; Mama would probably want to spend all day in the chapel.
‘I saw him as I was bringing your hot water, Miss Elinor. He pinched my chin and told me I was looking too pretty for a man to stand at that time in the morning.’ Jeanie tossed her head, obviously delighted with the compliment. ‘Cheek, I call it.’
‘That’s men for you,’ Elinor replied, from her wealth of recent experience.
It seemed Theo and the count had been for a ride, for they were both in the breakfast parlour when she came down, both slightly windswept and apparently in better humour with each other. She had not known what to expect when she saw Theo again. Surely the fact that they had been so…intimate would show somehow? Would she even be able to meet his eyes?
And then, miraculously, it was all right. Theo was just her friend and cousin again, his hair tousled, his smile when he saw her, wide and uncomplicated. Or was he feeling like she was, very different inside? No—as he had implied, men hardly regarded a kiss as significant.
Elinor dimpled at the count, biting her cheek at Theo’s comically raised eyebrows and took the opportunity to hiss as she paused beside his chair, ‘Jeanie heard noises last night in the cellars. Someone else is searching.’
‘It’s a miracle we didn’t bump into all the rest of the guests,’ he murmured back, the scraping of chair legs as he resumed his seat covering the exchange.
‘And what would you like to do this morning, Miss Ravenhurst?’ the count enquired, placing a plate of very English-looking food in front of her. ‘I still enjoy my English breakfasts,’ he explained, sitting down to his own dish of kedgeree.
‘Thank you. I will assist Mama, I expect. She will want to spend time in your lovely chapel, I am sure. The light will be good with so much sunshine.’
‘And I cannot tempt you outside into that sun?’ He was so hopelessly good looking, she thought. Those long lashes, those dark, stormy eyes, that beautifully chiselled jaw. And the intense way he focussed on her. It sounded as though his day would be ruined if she did not join him in the grounds.
‘Oh.’ Elinor tried fluttering her lashes. Her sister seemed to be able to do it to effect. She felt a complete idiot. On the far side of the count Theo raised his eyebrows, apparently in agreement with that assessment. ‘That sounds lovely. But what I would really like to do is to see your dungeons. I love Gothic romances and they must be so atmospheric.’
Theo stopped pulling mocking faces and nodded approval. Clever, he mouthed.
‘The dungeons?’ The count looked wary. ‘They are not very exciting these days, just cellars now full of wine barrels and old furniture. No hideous instruments of torture or skeletons in chains to send a frisson down your spine.’ He did not seem exactly eager to take her, but then what host would be delighted at a request to tour his cellars on a bright sunny day?
‘Please, Count?’ Elinor tried wheedling. ‘I am sure you could make it seem so exciting.’ Theo, his mouth full of coffee, choked alarmingly.
‘I cannot promise that,’ he said, his eyes suggesting he lied. Elinor felt herself turn pink. Lord! Her inept flirting must be having an effect. ‘But I will do my best. And you must call me Leon.’
