Page 60 of Shining Knight
Chapter Fourteen
Everything had changed.Eugenia was now aware of every movement Graham made and she was not sure she liked it. She watched as he started a fire and then went back out to the stables to haul in their valises. He then began stripping away his outer garments and tossing them over the table.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Graham asked.
Eugenia had not realized she had been staring, but she shook herself. “Everything has changed,” she answered.
“Well, yes,” he said, furrowing his brow as he sat down and pulled off his boots. “You decided to run away on your own terms, Genie. Not the ones you had agreed upon with Rowley.”
“You kissed me,” she said, still unable to shake it from her thoughts, although there was the whole adventure of running away that she was only now beginning to feel the repercussions of. It was not supposed to be like this.
“What did you think it would be like?” he asked, standing and walking towards her. She had seen her brothers in their shirt sleeves and stocking feet hundreds of time, but this did not feel the same. She could no longer think of him as a brother.
She swallowed hard as he came near. “I thought it would be a short holiday to a cottage where I would be alone with your caretakers and I would sit in the garden and watch the river and solve my problems.”
He raised his brows and made a face as though that were not a bad plan. “Well, you have me instead of the caretakers. And as your self-appointed caretaker, I must insist you remove your soaking garments. You are making quite a puddle on the floor.”
She looked down and realized what a state she was in. Besides being drenched, she was covered in mud. “Goodness. ’Tis a pity it is too cold to jump in the water. That would be the simplest solution.”
He chuckled and reached up to unbutton her cape. Her breath hitched as his fingers brushed her neck. She felt as though she had little control over her traitorous body. She did not want to react to him. It was wrong. Yet she stood there like a statue, unable to move.
His hands brushed her shoulders and as he slid her cloak off and tossed it over onto the table with his. Next was her coat and then he knelt down to remove her boots.
“I suppose this was an appropriate time as any for breeches,” he remarked dryly. “Skirts would have been the devil at this moment.”
“Yes.” She barely mustered a whisper when she normally would have enjoyed arguing the point. He seemed wholly unaware of how alarmed she was as she stood before him in shirt sleeves and stockings.
Graham walked away and put a pot of water over the fire. “I doubt I will be able to warm enough for you to bathe very soon, but at least we may have a pot of tea and clean ourselves.” He looked back at her. She had not moved; she was still standing where he had left her, watching him being so capable.
“Genie, come closer to the fire. You must warm yourself!”
She was shivering and forced herself to move towards the warmth. How could he be so unaffected? For her world had turned upside down and yet he was acting as though nothing had happened.
He rubbed his hands together and then moved about the kitchen. He opened the larder. “There is not much to be had, I am afraid. I will need to go into the village for some provisions. Thankfully, there is tea,” he said merrily, pouring the water over the leaves. “There are probably some eggs in the hen-house, unless the foxes have helped themselves to the hens.”
After the tea had steeped, Graham poured her a cup and added some sugar for her. They sat before the fire, on the bench next to the table, and drank. It was all so very domestic.
“Would you care to go to the village?” he asked.
“All I want to do is sleep.”
“That is not a bad idea, either. Come, let me show you to your room.”
Eugenia was too tired to think anymore or notice her surroundings. She quickly changed into a clean, woolen nightrail and crawled under the coverlet and fell asleep.
When she awoke, it took her a few minutes to realize where she was. The bed was strange, the room was strange, and she felt strange. She squinted at the window and could not remember what had transpired until she saw her clothing on the floor. Then, all that had occurred in the past four-and-twenty hours flooded back.
Reluctantly, she climbed from the bed and searched through her valise for her hair brush. It was an abomination, how tangled her hair was. She dealt with the knots, tied her hair back with a simple ribbon, and then made her way back downstairs.
She did not know if Graham had also slept or would have gone to the village. She was not particularly comfortable staying here either with him or without him. She had not expected the cottage to be abandoned.
It was a charming cottage, she thought as she finally took the time to look around. It reminded her of the squire’s home back in Devonshire, with its coziness. Low hanging ceilings, small rooms with worn draperies and furnishings, and patterns from decades ago gave it charm.
She did not see Graham, and walked through the house looking for him. There was a note left on the table in the kitchen.
I have gone to the village to find food and the smithy.
~G
