Chillhurst," Olympia said in a low voice, "I cannot allow you to encourage my nephews to
get into brawls."
"I have no intention of doing any such thing. You must trust me, Miss Wingfield. It is my unshakable
conviction that an intelligent man seeks nonviolent remedies for resolving confrontations whenever
possible."
She peered at him. "Are you certain of that?"
"Quite certain. But the world is sometimes a less than peaceful place and a man must be able to defend
himself."
"Hmm."
"And a woman's honor," Jared concluded gently.
"That is an old-fashioned notion of which I do not approve," Olympia said grimly. "Aunt Sophy and Aunt
Ida taught me that a woman must take care of her own honor."
"Nevertheless, I hope you will continue to place your faith in my instructional methods." Jared caught
hold of her hand and drew her to a halt. "And in me."
She studied his face in the light of the mirrored sconce. Her anger faded. "I do trust you, Mr. Chillhurst."
Jared's mouth curved slightly. "Excellent. Then I shall bid you good night, Miss Wingfield." He bent his
head and kissed her, very hard, full on her mouth.
Before Olympia could even begin to respond to the kiss, it was over. Jared let her go. He went down
the stairs without another word and let himself out the front door.
Olympia moved down the stairs slowly. She tried to identify the array of emotions that swirled about
inside her but it was a wasted effort. There was too much that was new and strange and wondrous. It
was dazzling and disquieting and, perhaps, a little dangerous.
She felt as though she had walked into the heart of a legend that had been written just for her.
With a dreamy, thoughtful smile, she slid the front door's big iron bolt home. Then she went into the
library and picked up the Lightbourne diary. She stood in the center of the room for a few minutes
savoring the memory of Jared's embrace. It was entirely appropriate that he had kissed her for the first
time here in this very special place.
Olympia remembered her first glimpse of the library. It had been on that dark, rainy day when she had
been left with Aunt Sophy and Aunt Ida. She had been cold and terrified and desperately determined not
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
to reveal her fears as she was deposited on the doorstep of yet another anonymous relative.
The two years of being shuffled from one branch of the family to the other had left their marks. At the
age of ten, Olympia had been too thin, too quiet, overly anxious, and prone to nightmares.
Some of the nightmares had taken human guise. There had been Uncle Dunstan, for example, who had
watched her with a strange, glittering look in his eyes. One day he had followed her into a room and
closed the door. He had started talking to her, telling her how pretty she was and then he had reached for
her with his great, sweaty hands.
Olympia had screamed. Uncle Dunstan had released her at once and pleaded with her to stop
screaming, but Olympia could not stop. She had screamed until Aunt Lilian had opened the door. Aunt
Lilian had taken in the situation in a glance. She had said nothing, but the next morning, Olympia had
found herself on her way to the next relative on the list.
And then there had been her cousin Elmer, a malicious boy three years older than Olympia. He had
taken great delight in terrifying Olympia at every opportunity. He had leaped, screaming, out of dark
nooks in the hall whenever she went past. He had set fire to the only doll she owned. He had threatened
to lock her in the cellar. Within weeks Olympia had become fearful of every small movement. She had
started at every shadow. The doctor had diagnosed her as having a nervous disease and she had
promptly been dispatched to yet another relative.
The next relative in line had been Aunt Sophy. She and Aunt Ida had taken Olympia into the library that
first day. They had given her hot chocolate and
get into brawls."
"I have no intention of doing any such thing. You must trust me, Miss Wingfield. It is my unshakable
conviction that an intelligent man seeks nonviolent remedies for resolving confrontations whenever
possible."
She peered at him. "Are you certain of that?"
"Quite certain. But the world is sometimes a less than peaceful place and a man must be able to defend
himself."
"Hmm."
"And a woman's honor," Jared concluded gently.
"That is an old-fashioned notion of which I do not approve," Olympia said grimly. "Aunt Sophy and Aunt
Ida taught me that a woman must take care of her own honor."
"Nevertheless, I hope you will continue to place your faith in my instructional methods." Jared caught
hold of her hand and drew her to a halt. "And in me."
She studied his face in the light of the mirrored sconce. Her anger faded. "I do trust you, Mr. Chillhurst."
Jared's mouth curved slightly. "Excellent. Then I shall bid you good night, Miss Wingfield." He bent his
head and kissed her, very hard, full on her mouth.
Before Olympia could even begin to respond to the kiss, it was over. Jared let her go. He went down
the stairs without another word and let himself out the front door.
Olympia moved down the stairs slowly. She tried to identify the array of emotions that swirled about
inside her but it was a wasted effort. There was too much that was new and strange and wondrous. It
was dazzling and disquieting and, perhaps, a little dangerous.
She felt as though she had walked into the heart of a legend that had been written just for her.
With a dreamy, thoughtful smile, she slid the front door's big iron bolt home. Then she went into the
library and picked up the Lightbourne diary. She stood in the center of the room for a few minutes
savoring the memory of Jared's embrace. It was entirely appropriate that he had kissed her for the first
time here in this very special place.
Olympia remembered her first glimpse of the library. It had been on that dark, rainy day when she had
been left with Aunt Sophy and Aunt Ida. She had been cold and terrified and desperately determined not
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
to reveal her fears as she was deposited on the doorstep of yet another anonymous relative.
The two years of being shuffled from one branch of the family to the other had left their marks. At the
age of ten, Olympia had been too thin, too quiet, overly anxious, and prone to nightmares.
Some of the nightmares had taken human guise. There had been Uncle Dunstan, for example, who had
watched her with a strange, glittering look in his eyes. One day he had followed her into a room and
closed the door. He had started talking to her, telling her how pretty she was and then he had reached for
her with his great, sweaty hands.
Olympia had screamed. Uncle Dunstan had released her at once and pleaded with her to stop
screaming, but Olympia could not stop. She had screamed until Aunt Lilian had opened the door. Aunt
Lilian had taken in the situation in a glance. She had said nothing, but the next morning, Olympia had
found herself on her way to the next relative on the list.
And then there had been her cousin Elmer, a malicious boy three years older than Olympia. He had
taken great delight in terrifying Olympia at every opportunity. He had leaped, screaming, out of dark
nooks in the hall whenever she went past. He had set fire to the only doll she owned. He had threatened
to lock her in the cellar. Within weeks Olympia had become fearful of every small movement. She had
started at every shadow. The doctor had diagnosed her as having a nervous disease and she had
promptly been dispatched to yet another relative.
The next relative in line had been Aunt Sophy. She and Aunt Ida had taken Olympia into the library that
first day. They had given her hot chocolate and
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