“Not at all.” I grinned, shoving back my own chair. “In fact, I think I’ll go to the kitchens and see if I can get some more food, if you’d both like to sit together. Perhaps you could take Heathcliff for a walk around the courtyard after breakfast?”
Heathcliff glared at me. “Why are you making things worse?”
“Have fun!” I waved as I stood up. I grabbed an empty plate off the end of the buffet, maneuvered my way around the staff cleaning the carpets, and entered the short hallway leading toward the kitchens.
Gerald stood in the middle of the hall, his bulk blocking my way. He had his head bent low, whispering with Alice Yo and Professor Carmichael. As I cleared my throat to indicate they might shuffle over and let me pass, all three snapped their heads up, eyes wide. They scattered in three directions, leaving the hall deserted.
What are they up to?
Chapter Eighteen
Ibarely saw Heathcliff for the rest of the day. The one time I glanced at him across the room during a lecture on spinster tropes, Hannah was practically sitting in his lap and he’d acquired two more black-clad admirers. It looked as though the Argleton Brontë society had found their new leader. I wondered what Gerald thought of it all, but I hadn’t seen him in any lectures, either. Maybe Cynthia had asked him to leave.
While I waited for Professor Carmichael’s lecture – the final lecture of the day – to begin, I scanned the tiny room for Morrie. He’d been absent all day as well. Lydia led him from activity to activity, showing him off and breaking into impromptu dances in the halls. He seemed perfectly content to bask in her growing popularity and cater to her whims. I tried not to feel jealous.It’s probably for the best. Although Morrie had come back to the room last night and fallen asleep in bed with us, he hadn’t said a word to me all day. He had to be thinking about what I told him last night.
Maybe I read him all wrong. Maybe he really doesn’t care about me. I’ve made a big mistake—
Morrie dropped down into the chair beside me. “Good afternoon, gorgeous.”
My stomach did a little dance. “You’ve sprung yourself free.” A horrible thought occurred to me. “Wait a second, you haven’t stuffed Lydia in a closet, have you?”
Morrie winked at me. “Would I do that?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Touché.” Morrie pointed across the room. “However, in this instance, I am innocent. Our little miscreant has acquired more admirers. She didn’t even notice when I slipped away. I’ve officially been demoted.”
I followed his gaze to a throng of people across the aisle, the only other people in the room. They were too far away for me to recognize, but Lydia’s high-pitched laugh echoed across the room. “Do you need to cry into my shoulder?”
“Yes, please.” Morrie dropped his head onto my shoulder and pretended to be wracked with sobs. As his lips grazed my neck, a shiver ran through my body. I reached up a hand to push him away, to remind him that I hadn’t been kidding about what I’d asked, when he spoke first.
“I thought about what you told me last night,” he whispered against my hair, his lips brushing the lobe.
“And?” My body went rigid. An ache danced between my legs.
“And I think you’re playing a dangerous game.”
His breath tickled along my neck, sending another delicious shiver through my body. “Oh yes?”
“People don’t usually issue ultimatums to James Moriarty and live to speak of it.”
“Be that as it may.” My body ached for him to keep going. I pressed my hand against Morrie’s chest. It took all my self-control, but I pushed him away. “You’re not touching me until you give me an answer. What’s it to be, Moriarty – spill your feelings, or suffer the blue balls?”
Morrie drew back and puffed out his lower lip. “You’re mean.”
“You love it. And as soon as you tell me you love me,” I patted my arse, “you can have a piece of this.”
“Bloody hell, gorgeous.” Morrie stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“Cold shower,” he muttered as he ducked out of the room. “See you at the ball.”
Cynthia, acting as MC, called for silence. Professor Carmichael took the stage. “Thank you very much for coming. I wasn’t expecting to see so many of you here for the last lecture of the day, instead of taking an extra hour for ball preparation—”
“Oh, no, I didn’t see the time. I have to get ready for the ball!” Lydia leaped up, pushing her way through her gaggle of admirers and fleeing the room. A few other women followed her, muttering about curling irons and petticoat lengths.
Professor Carmichael’s shoulders sagged, but she straightened her back, pushed her glasses up her nose, and began her lecture on medicine in Jane Austen’s life. She spoke with passion and authority, and her joy for the subject made her whole face light up, becoming more animated and youthful as she dug deeper, telling us how vinegar was distilled and used on a range of ailments, from reviving a fainted person, to croup, dropsy, and stomach aches. She had lots of charts and medical facts to back up her conclusions, no doubt gleaned from her previous occupation as a doctor.
