contemporaries, she'd had
made only one friend at Mrs. Siddon's, shy and gentle Amanda Harris—and that
had not lasted. For when they left the school, their paths parted, Amanda going
to live with her grandmother, the formidable dowager duchess of Avon, and
Catherine returning to the comparative peacefulness of Hunter's Hill. But Catherine
was happy in her life and seldom thought beyond the boundaries of Hunter's
Hill. Content to spend her days immersed in the activities of the farm, she was
unawakened to the outside world.
Immensely
satisfied with the present, she was content to gaze at the fire, thinking of
her home, aware that from a distance she could hear the bustle of the
preparations for tonight's ball. The last thing she remembered before drifting
off to sleep was the ringing of the hour by the huge grandfather clock
downstairs.
She
awoke with a start some hours later. What awakened her she didn't know, but
from the sounds permeating the room it was obvious that Ceci's bail was well
underway, and she knew the hour must be late. Silently, like a cat, she
stretched and blinked at the glowing embers on the hearth. For a moment she
sat thus, still not quite awake. Then, starting to rise, she was held
motionless by the faint sound of the rustle of paper.
Cautiously,
she peered around the end of the couch and discovered, much to her surprise, an
unknown man seated at the desk, a candle flickering at his elbow, his dark head
bent as he read the letter in his hands, and he was unaware of Catherine's keen
scrutiny.
She
couldn't see his features clearly, but from his clothes she supposed he must be
one of the guests, for he was fashionably attired in a green velvet jacket with
an elabo rately embroidered, yellow silk waistcoat.
Suddenly, as if sensing someone watching him, he glanced up, the light from the candles falling full on his
face, and Catherine was gripped by a strange, painful giddiness as she stared
at the hard, dark face.
It was an intensely
masculine face with a bold nose that seemed to flare at the nostrils, as if he
scented her hiding there; and she felt a queer, choking sensation as his eyes,
glittering greenly in the candlelight, pierced the room, seeking the source of
his slight uneasiness. Frozen, like some small, frightened animal hiding from a
stalking panther, Catherine was unable to tear her gaze away until he gave a
careless shrug of his broad shoulders and bent his dark head once more.
Slowly, she released her
pent-up breath in a shuddering sigh and felt a blind, unreasoning panic. Driven
by the knowledge that she must escape this man, she crept quickly to the door.
Exactly why she was impelled to flee his disturbing presence, she didn't know;
she only knew this strange man aroused a primitive and nameless fear.
Reaching the door, her hand
on the handle, she was momentarily startled when a drawling, accented voice
called out behind her, "Arretez! Stop!"
Compelled to look-back, she
saw he was rising from behind the desk, his eyes meeting her wide, violet ones
with a shock she felt in her bones. Suddenly, she wasn't frightened any longer,
just angry at her own silly emotions, and glaring at him she wrinkled her
straight little nose and impudently stuck out her tongue! Then, has shout of
laughter ringing in her ears, she bolted from the room and fled up the stairs
as if all the demons in hell were after her ..
Like a shy child before strangers, she ran to her mother's room, hating herself for giving
in to almost sheer panic. Standing breathlessly outside the door, she waited a
moment, forcing her thudding heart to calm itself. When she felt she was once
more in command of herself, she knocked softly and upon hearing Rachael asking
who it was, she opened the door and entered the room.
"Why, Catherine!"
Rachael cried, surprised. "What are you still doing up, my love? It is
very late, you know."
Smiling, Catherine dropped
a light kiss on her cheek * and. replied, "Actually, I've been sleeping.
made only one friend at Mrs. Siddon's, shy and gentle Amanda Harris—and that
had not lasted. For when they left the school, their paths parted, Amanda going
to live with her grandmother, the formidable dowager duchess of Avon, and
Catherine returning to the comparative peacefulness of Hunter's Hill. But Catherine
was happy in her life and seldom thought beyond the boundaries of Hunter's
Hill. Content to spend her days immersed in the activities of the farm, she was
unawakened to the outside world.
Immensely
satisfied with the present, she was content to gaze at the fire, thinking of
her home, aware that from a distance she could hear the bustle of the
preparations for tonight's ball. The last thing she remembered before drifting
off to sleep was the ringing of the hour by the huge grandfather clock
downstairs.
She
awoke with a start some hours later. What awakened her she didn't know, but
from the sounds permeating the room it was obvious that Ceci's bail was well
underway, and she knew the hour must be late. Silently, like a cat, she
stretched and blinked at the glowing embers on the hearth. For a moment she
sat thus, still not quite awake. Then, starting to rise, she was held
motionless by the faint sound of the rustle of paper.
Cautiously,
she peered around the end of the couch and discovered, much to her surprise, an
unknown man seated at the desk, a candle flickering at his elbow, his dark head
bent as he read the letter in his hands, and he was unaware of Catherine's keen
scrutiny.
She
couldn't see his features clearly, but from his clothes she supposed he must be
one of the guests, for he was fashionably attired in a green velvet jacket with
an elabo rately embroidered, yellow silk waistcoat.
Suddenly, as if sensing someone watching him, he glanced up, the light from the candles falling full on his
face, and Catherine was gripped by a strange, painful giddiness as she stared
at the hard, dark face.
It was an intensely
masculine face with a bold nose that seemed to flare at the nostrils, as if he
scented her hiding there; and she felt a queer, choking sensation as his eyes,
glittering greenly in the candlelight, pierced the room, seeking the source of
his slight uneasiness. Frozen, like some small, frightened animal hiding from a
stalking panther, Catherine was unable to tear her gaze away until he gave a
careless shrug of his broad shoulders and bent his dark head once more.
Slowly, she released her
pent-up breath in a shuddering sigh and felt a blind, unreasoning panic. Driven
by the knowledge that she must escape this man, she crept quickly to the door.
Exactly why she was impelled to flee his disturbing presence, she didn't know;
she only knew this strange man aroused a primitive and nameless fear.
Reaching the door, her hand
on the handle, she was momentarily startled when a drawling, accented voice
called out behind her, "Arretez! Stop!"
Compelled to look-back, she
saw he was rising from behind the desk, his eyes meeting her wide, violet ones
with a shock she felt in her bones. Suddenly, she wasn't frightened any longer,
just angry at her own silly emotions, and glaring at him she wrinkled her
straight little nose and impudently stuck out her tongue! Then, has shout of
laughter ringing in her ears, she bolted from the room and fled up the stairs
as if all the demons in hell were after her ..
Like a shy child before strangers, she ran to her mother's room, hating herself for giving
in to almost sheer panic. Standing breathlessly outside the door, she waited a
moment, forcing her thudding heart to calm itself. When she felt she was once
more in command of herself, she knocked softly and upon hearing Rachael asking
who it was, she opened the door and entered the room.
"Why, Catherine!"
Rachael cried, surprised. "What are you still doing up, my love? It is
very late, you know."
Smiling, Catherine dropped
a light kiss on her cheek * and. replied, "Actually, I've been sleeping.
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