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“Later! It is already late,” Fergus pointed out as Antony walked past him.
“This from the man who has gone to the study to work,” Antony said wryly.
“I’m just looking over my next orders for the navy,” Fergus said. “What are you going to do?”
“Read,” Antony called back to his brother as he passed from the mail hallway into a narrow corridor beyond. The library was a place he found solace in when the depths of night were upon him. There, he could lose himself in tales of beings whose lives were so different to his own, and he could imagine he lived in their shoes for a short while.
As he pushed open the library door soundlessly, he was startled to find there was already a candle in the room, for the orb was visible, streaming through the gaps in the bookshelves. Curious, he didn’t head straight for the book he was currently reading. Instead, he started to wander through the labyrinth of shelves, searching for the source of the light.
When he caught sight of the candle perched on a table beside an armchair, his feet stopped abruptly beneath him. Someone was in his father’s favorite armchair. The thought was too abhorrent. Since his father’s passing, he didn’t allow anyone to sit there.
He hurried forward again, rounding one of the bookshelves until he caught sight of just who had been so bold as to sit there.
It was a woman. Dressed in a pale blue gown with a deep neckline and sleeves that reached her elbow, he could see even sitting down she was petite with soft curves. Her legs were crossed delicately, showing the length beneath the gown. She hadn’t noticed his approach for she was too busy reading the book in her lap.
She turned a page in her book, resting one of her hands on the arm of the chair. The movement shook Antony out of his ogling of the stranger, reminding him of the brazen disrespect of the moment. A stranger had made herself at home in his father’s chair.
“Who are you? And what are you doing there?” he asked, finding his voice.
