"Really. What for?" She was hungry, and the longer she thought about it, the less she understood why they had to hide in her bedroom while the other guests were eating supper.
He lowered the cravat in his hands, and a slow grin spread across his face. "A night of passionate lovemaking that lasts only half an hour is rather pathetic, don't you think?"
Ellen stuttered.
She endedup reading to him to pass the time.
He'd suggested it, and she'd agreed, opened her book and read the story of Sinbad. She'd read it countless times to her students at the seminary. This would be no different, she told herself.
But several times, her voice wavered as she read. She'd had to clear her throat and read the sentence again.
He sat in a chair across from her, his hands clasped behind his head, one booted leg crossed nonchalantly over the other, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Ellen paused to study his face.
He'd washed his face, and he looked so much younger without the patches of blush and heavy kohl under his eyes. He'd taken off his cravat and shrugged into a silken banyan, lavishly embroidered with red and blue flowers. His dark hair was tousled and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.
He met her gaze with a question in his eyes. "And? What happens next?"
"He returns to Baghdad, and shortly after that he embarks on his second journey, which is even more fantastic."
Tewkbury was silent. "Lucky Sinbad. What a life to be able to travel the Seven Seas so carefree, lurching from one adventure to another."
"I don't know. Reading about it is one thing, but I wouldn't want to experience being attacked by monster whales, giant birds, snakes, or other horrible creatures. Sinbad always escapes and returns with riches, but I wouldn't want to go through that. That is what our imagination is for, and we can relive it all in books." She clutched the leather volume to her chest.
Edmund shrugged. "I have a good imagination without books."
"You don't seem to read much, do you? I noticed you don't have any library. It appears you have no books at all in your house."
That must have been the wrong thing to say, because the unguarded, carefree expression on his face disappeared as an invisible mask slipped over it.
"I have no time to read, ma'am. I am a busy man and have better things to do with my time." He got up. "I say. Enough time will have passed. I'll have a tray sent to your room."
He bowed stiffly and left the room.
Ellen stayed behind, wondering what it was about her words that had caused him to take offence.
Sometime later, a housemaid knocked on the door and brought a massive tray with white soup, fish with wine sauce, a savoury pie, and a slice of chocolate tart with fruits and marzipan. It was divine. Having eaten, she prepared for bed and crawled between the sheets.
She had six hours to sleep.
She wondered what he would do for six hours.
Play billiards and get drunk, probably.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ellen woke up an hour early, readied herself, and left the room. She met no one on her way downstairs and wondered where Tewkbury was. The entire house was quiet, and the early morning sun had not yet risen above the horizon. She went down to the dining room and found that breakfast was not yet ready as the footmen were setting up the sideboard. Ellen sighed. What a nuisance. She figured the rest of the guests would be asleep until midday, which meant she would have to amuse herself until then.
As the weather was fine outside, she decided to go for an early morning walk. She fetched her coat and set off.
The air was crisp and clean, and the birds were singing.
She walked around the lake, into the adjacent woods, and followed a forest path that led to a pretty little gazebo in the middle of a clearing. After a brief rest, she had no desire to return. Most of the house would still be asleep. She could finish walking through the forest and then she'd be able to see what was on the other side.
When she came out of the forest, she saw a meadow with a stone fence, and she stepped over the fence. Her goal was the hill with a massive oak on top. There she would rest and then turn back.
The morning sun had grown quite strong, and Ellen took off her cloak as she walked. Beads of sweat trickled down her back.
