She felt Keaton shift and squeezed his arm again, willing him to remain silent. Amelia nodded and hurried from the room.
“This is not a prelude to an additional house guest,” Keaton told her quietly.
“Oh, don’t spoil it!” she laughed, “You were doing so well.”
“Pray tell, at what, besides indulging you?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I like being indulged,” she replied in a low voice.
“Why are you whispering?” he asked, lowering his head to her.
Georgia looked up at his handsome face. His wide, expressive eyes that seemed to mock the fact of his blindness.
They may no longer function, but they are still the windows of his soul.
She felt that she could gaze into those eyes all day, that she could lose herself in them. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face.
“Are you staring at me?” he asked, also whispering.
“Not at all,” she lied quickly, “I am admiring the decoration in this room.”
“Describe it,” he challenged.
Georgia opened her mouth to speak, but found her mind blank. She had not taken in a single detail and now did not want to look away to find out.
“Quite beautiful, though with a tendency to severity. Expressive when looked at a certain way. Soft at times and comfortable. Hard at other times,” she said nebulously.
“And uncomfortable at those times, I’ll wager,” he replied.
“Immensely. Yet, I feel drawn to… this room. I would like to spend a great deal of time here.”
Georgia’s pulse quickened at the game they played. She could see from his face that he had decoded the puzzle. It excited her just as much as when she had realized that he knew she was naked. Her lips parted, and her breath caught. She felt close enough to him that he might be able to feel the heat in her cheeks.
“It must be a remarkable room,” he whispered.
“Quite. One that I would like to see replicated at Westvale.”
“Perhaps that could be arranged.”
His lips were inches from hers, but she was not consciously aware of him moving. Or herself, for that matter. Her eyelids fluttered, on the verge of closing for the kiss. Then, Keaton pulled back.
“Your cousin is returning,” he said.
Moments later, Georgia heard Amelia’s footsteps. She sighed as the door opened.
“Such a lovely room,” she smiled, taking Keaton’s arm.
Keaton chuckled.
CHAPTER 22
“Where are we on our list, Georgia?” Hermione Archer asked.
Amelia had chosen to remain at Westvale after dinner the previous evening. The meal had been served later than usual, due to urgent business that Keaton had claimed. Georgia suspected it had been engineered so that it would be too late for Amelia to travel back the same evening. She had not required any persuasion.
Hermione’s card had arrived first thing that morning, requesting the pleasure of Georgia’s company, and she had replied to invite her friend to Westvale.
“What list?” Amelia asked curiously.
