Page 27 of Escaping the Earl
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Sabrina layawake in her bed, thinking over the poem that Peregrine had recited. It was old, perhaps even medieval. She had liked it immensely, and the gentle rhythm as he’d spoken the words had soothed something still wounded inside her. After all these months, she still felt part of herself was missing. She just wasn’t sure what it was.
She quickly banished thoughts of it and him, or at least shetriedto. Rafe did not want her meeting with any gentlemen, and she shouldn’t. This was not a social visit. It was her employment, to be here and to see to Isla, not to enjoy herself. She owed it to Rafe to be the governess he needed for Isla.
However, she still could not sleep after midnight and decided she would go down to the kitchens for a glass of milk to see if that might calm her. She pulled on her robe and slipped out of bed. The stone floor was icy, so she slipped into a pair of silver mule slippers and began the long walk from her bedchamber to the kitchens. She descended the main stairs, and the boisterous sounds of men laughing still came from the billiard room. Why men would stay awake so late she would never know.
Once in the darkened kitchens, it took her a moment to light a few candles before she found a saucepan and began to warm some milk. She was pouring it into a glass when she heard booted steps outside the open door.
Peregrine stood there, looking more a handsome man of leisure than ever in buckskin trousers and a white lawn shirt. His crimson-colored waistcoat, patterned with gold-embroidered stag heads, accented his broad chest all the way down to his narrow hips, giving him a fine masculine figure. For a second she froze, too entranced by the sight of him to remember that she was to avoid being alone with him. The faint sound of the men carousing above them echoed down the stairs, but it faded away the longer she stared at him.
“Miss Talleyrand—I’m sorry, I—” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing down here?”
“I thought a bit of milk would help me sleep.” She stepped to the side so he could see the saucepan.
“Oh, yes. As it happens, I’m here for that as well.”
“Milk?”
He nodded. “And for those.” He grinned bashfully and pointed at the plate of strawberry tarts nearby. “I have a sudden urge for sweets.”
She smiled back. “Me too.”
“Would you like one?”
“Do you suppose the cook will be mad if she finds them missing tomorrow?” Sabrina asked.
“If she is, we’ll blame Lonsdale and Rafe for it. Agreed?” He held out a hand.
With a laugh, she accepted and shook it. She poured more milk into the saucepan and warmed a second glass while Peregrine put two tarts on a pair of plates. They carried their milk and secret dessert out of the kitchen.
“To the library?” Peregrine suggested.
“You don’t think anyone will be there?”
“At this hour? Christ, no. Only the men are still awake, and I can promise you not one of them will be in the library.”
“Won’t they know you’ve gone?”
“They know, and they don’t expect me back. I told them I was off to bed, and I was, before I decided I needed something sweet.”
She wished she could find an excuse to go straight up to bed herself, but in truth she didn’t want to. She wanted to see him again. There was something about him that calmed her and yet strangely excited her.
“Very well, direct me to the library.”
Once they arrived, they settled into two chairs by the fire.
“This is rather nice, isn’t it?” he asked as they enjoyed their desserts.
“It is,” she agreed. “Lord Rutland, I must tell you I enjoyed that poem you recited this evening.” She couldn’t help but steal a glance at him and noticed he was doing the same toward her.
“I thought you’d left,” he said.
“No, I stayed until the moment you finished, and then while everyone was distracted by Lord Lonsdale I slipped out. Your poem was beautiful.”
“Thank you. I admit I did feel rather inspired to choose that one.”
They were silent a long moment before Sabrina spoke. “My lord...”
