Page 18 of A Governess' Forbidden Flame
Amelia placed the quill pen back in its stand, quickly skimming through the letter again.Yes, that would be enough, she thought to herself.For now.
She glanced up at the big grandfather clock ticking away, regardless of those around it. One glance assured her it was already time to meet up with Sebastian in the library. Her heart fluttered like a bottled butterfly as she walked through the corridors, quickly finding herself in the dimly lit expanse of the Ravenscroft Manor library, where time seemed to stand still amidst all the volumes of knowledge.
“Ah, you’re here,” Sebastian beamed up at her, upon seeing her in the doorway.
She smiled instead of a greeting. After all, they all just had dinner not too long ago. She walked inside slowly, relishing the scent of aged leather and paper. He watched her, not taking his eyes off her even for a single second, his countenance enigmatic yet inviting.
“Welcome to my sanctuary, Miss Wycliffe,” he told her, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I wish I had been the first to show you this treasure trove, but it seems my niece has beat me to it.”
Amelia smiled. “Such a place deserves to be introduced twice, even thrice.”
He seemed to like that. “Well said, Miss Wycliffe. I believe one’s choice of literature speaks volumes about their character. I’ve already noticed that you enjoy rare literary treats like myself.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t even assume that my literary knowledge can compare to yours, my lord,” she said honestly, as her hazel eyes widened in awe while surveying the shelves, each tome a testament to the intellectual wealth within these walls.
“Assumption is the mother of all errors,” he said somewhat mischievously. “Have you heard that saying?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe I have.”
“Well, whether it is something a wise man said a long time ago or I just made it up, it doesn’t change the fact that it is true,” he grinned. “Intelligent people do not assume. And you are intelligent.” He cleared his throat a little, almost as if he hadn’t meant to compliment her so openly, so he quickly added.“Otherwise, you would not have been chosen for the position of governess.”
“Of course,” she smiled back. “Anna has told me that this was her grandmother’s favorite place.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “She used to say that a library is not only a repository of books but a haven for thoughtful discourse.”
“She must have been a wise woman,” Amelia pointed out.
He just nodded silently. “Do you like it?” he suddenly asked, a question as simple as the statement that the sun rose in the east and set in the west.
It could have only one answer, and Amelia gave it gladly.
“It is the most wondrous place I have ever seen,” she admitted, unable to contain her admiration.
“I spend many evenings here,” he said, his voice resonating with a depth that hinted at the complexities beneath his reserved exterior. “Seeing that we share a similar passion for literature, I would be happy to engage in discussions with someone of your education.”
Amelia, her nervousness giving way to a growing sense of comfort, expressed her gratitude. “Your invitation is most generous. I would be honored, my lord.”
As they stood amidst the hallowed shelves, the air thickened with a shared appreciation for the written word, forging an unspoken bond that transcended the formality of their positions. Amelia felt a warmth in her chest as he revealed a side of himself not easily glimpsed by the outside world.
His usually stoic demeanor softened, and the passion in his voice echoed through the library’s quiet expanse. It was a moment suspended in time, as the air seemed to hum with something that went beyond the barriers of status and formality.
Feeling suddenly washed over by a tidal wave of heat as his gaze bore into hers, she cleared her throat. She had to withdraw from the shared moment, because it was overwhelming. Her mind was filled with images of being in his arms, just like that first time during their interview when her clumsiness landed her in exactly the wrong place. Now, she could not get that image out of her mind.
His muscular chest, his strong arms, his manly scent…it all lingered inside of her, refusing to leave the confines of her mind and growing stronger every time she was in his presence.
“Are the documents here?” she asked, in a slightly clumsy manner. “The ones we spoke of earlier, I mean.”
He smiled. “Come.”
With an air of reverence, he led Amelia to a secluded corner of the library, where the secrets of Ravenscroft Manor lay hidden within the pages of ancient documents. Carefully, he unveiled parchment after parchment, each bearing the marks of a bygone era.
The lamplight cast flickering shadows on the time-worn manuscripts as Sebastian delicately handled them, revealing intricate symbols and faded ink that whispered tales of centuries past. Amelia, her eyes wide with awe, traced the lines of history with her gaze, her fingers almost instinctively yearning to touch the tangible remnants of a world long gone.
Parchments, yellowed with age, bore the weight of history with faded ink and ornate symbols, reminiscent of a time when quills danced upon them with purpose. The once-vibrant colors had mellowed into muted sepia tones, creating a sense of antiquity that enveloped each page.
Intricate calligraphy adorned the margins, a testament to the skilled hands that had chronicled the tales of Ravenscroft Manor and its association with the Knights Templar. She watchedSebastian handle them with a delicate touch, aware that these fragile relics bridged the gap between past and present.
Sebastian, his gaze fixed on the ancient documents before them, hesitated for a moment before sharing the somber history of Ravenscroft Manor. The lamplight flickered, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the weight of his words.
