Page 47 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke
William saw Joane turn to him and he smiled.
“Thank you for choosing to stay,” he said.
“So keep your attention here Mr. William, don’t make me regret asking your opinion,” she replied.
“Okay ma’am,” William replied, grinning after he spoke.
“Maybe we should leave here. I think I need somewhere with more privacy, I know just the place,” William said.
He drew Joane’s hand as he stood up and walked down the hall. Joane said nothing as they walked down, William could see her looking up to the ceiling.
Everyone is held spell bound by the designs on that roof the first time.
He was surprised she didn’t ask any questions about it. He led her to the end of the hall then they turned left and climbed a stair well. William kept climbing with Joane right behind him till they got to the final floor which was the second floor. They emerged into an open space at the top. If William walked straight forward, he would lead them to the railings of the balcony. He used to stay up here during his adolescence. He would watch the happenings on the street below in silence, only the stirring wind serving as a companion.
He wasn’t going there. He turned to his left and walked to the huge metal door. He turned the handle and smiled when the door opened up to him.
They never bother to lock it.
“Where is this?” he heard Joane ask behind him in a quiet voice. She seemed to realise they were entering somewhere that was normally out-of-bounds.
“You decide,” William said as he stepped out of the way for Joane to see what the place was.
It was the institute’s store. William liked to think of it as a museum. It contained old fashioned armour, mail and shields used by knights of the former years. There were books on dueling and fencing that dated decades ago. William liked the room because unlike most stores, it had huge railings as windows and there was constant fresh air. It was too high for the insides to be seen from the ground below but one could see everyone in the compound. He used to stay there to practise his fencing while he was still a student. He imagined his enemies to be the great fighters of folk lore.
Prince Arthur, Achilles of Troy, those were my opponents. And I beat them all.
“What did you say?” William heard Joane say.
He walked up to her and laughed.
“I was thinking, I didn’t realise I said it out.”
“I used to use this place as my training court. I fought great warriors of the years gone, Prince Arthur was my favourite opponent. I beat him every time,” he continued.
Joane smiled. He saw her walk to the erect statue a fully kitted knight. She wrapped her hand around the blade of the big sword in its hand.
“This place is a very private place to you,” she said.
William walked to her; he stood behind her and wrapped his hand around hers. She didn’t move it, still keeping her fingers around the stone blade.
“Yes, it was. It still is,” he replied. His voice was surprisingly softer than he had intended it to be. He reduced the firmness of his grip on her hand, reducing it to a mere caress.
Joane turned around to face him. Her bust grazed his chest as she turned, setting fire to the skin under his thin shirt. William felt the air still around her. He saw the blue of her eyes, he felt himself swim in their depths.
What effect does this lady have on me? Why does my body react so quickly to her?
He leaned even closer, pushing his chest against her breasts, feeling their soft bounce against him. She leaned against the statue now, her eyelids looked as if they were about to close. Her felt the force of her words on his lips as she spoke, tingling the edges of his lips.
“So why did you bring me here?” she asked him.
William didn’t know why he had brought her. He did know he never wanted to leave her side anytime he was with her.
“I don’t know. I just wanted somewhere we could be alone,” he replied.
“There are a lot of other places. Mr. William, what do you want with me? You do realise I am the daughter of the man who cheated you at a duel,” she said.
“You admit he cheated,” William said taking a step back.
