Stephen headed toward the door. If he stayed in this bedchamber for another minute with nothing to do but think of that, he was going to go mad. He made his way slowly down the stairs, and seeing no one about, he headed for the library. Perhaps reading would occupy his mind.
Once there, he studied the books and was about to select one when he spied a stack of magazines half hidden in a corner of the bottom shelf. The title caught his eye and he bent down. Apparently Captain Albright had subscribed to Gentleman's Weekly. This notion struck Stephen a bit odd as he didn't imagine it was the sort of periodical a sailor would enjoy. He picked up the top copy and contemplated it with surprise. It was the current issue, so clearly it didn't belong to Hayley's father.
Tucking the magazine under his arm, he continued looking around and discovered a set of crystal decanters. He poured a fingerful of what he fervently hoped was a decent brandy, although at this point even a horrid brandy would help, and tossed it back. The potent liquor coated his insides with a glowing warmth and he sighed in contentment. It was very good brandy indeed.
Pouring another, he settled himself in an overstuffed wing chair next to the fire and propped his feet up on a matching ottoman. He took another sip of brandy and opened his magazine.
It seemed like only several minutes later when he heard a knock. "Here you are," Hayley said with a smile, opening the door and entering the room. "I was about to give you up for lost. Are you not hungry?"
"Hungry?" Stephen looked at the mantel clock and was astonished to discover it was nearly
six o'clock
.
"I went to your bedchamber to see if you still wanted to eat downstairs, or if you preferred a tray. I thought you were resting," she said in a mildly scolding tone.
"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take you up on your offer to borrow some reading material." He glanced at the empty snifter in his hand. "I also enjoyed some of your excellent brandy. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. I want you to make yourself at home. My father loved brandy and only kept the best. It's wonderful to have someone enjoy it." She plopped herself down in the wing chair opposite him. "What are you reading?"
"The latest issue of Gentleman's Weekly." He watched her gaze shift to the magazine opened on his lap, and her skin paled, a reaction he found most curious. "I must admit, I was surprised to find a stack of current issues in your library."
Her gaze snapped back to his. "Surprised? Why is that?"
"I cannot imagine Winston or Grimsley reading this magazine, and it certainly isn't a publication for women to read."
"The, ah, boys enjoy it."
He raised his brows, intrigued by her sudden nervousness. "The boys? Don't you think it's a bit sophisticated for them?"
Color rushed into her pale cheeks. "Nathan and Andrew are very intelligent, and there is nothing scandalous about Gentleman's Weekly."
"No indeed, but you must agree it is meant for men, not boys." Before she could comment he continued, "I read it faithfully myself. I particularly enjoy the serialized stories they print."
Her color heightened further, but her gaze remained steady on him. "Indeed? Which stories do you like the best?"
"There is a series written by a gentleman named H. Tripp called A Sea Captain's Adventures. Every week he tells a different tale about the voyages of Captain Haydon Mills, an old salt who's always in one scrape or another. Mr. Tripp's writing isn't the best, but the unique nature of the stories makes up for his lacking literary skills."
Her brows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "Lack of literary skills?" She planted her hands on her hips. "I believe H. Tripp is a fine writer, an opinion shared by many others based on the popularity of his stories."
He couldn't hide his surprise at her belligerent tone. "And what would you know of H. Tripp's stories, Miss Albright?"
"I've read every single one of them. And I've thoroughly enjoyed
Once there, he studied the books and was about to select one when he spied a stack of magazines half hidden in a corner of the bottom shelf. The title caught his eye and he bent down. Apparently Captain Albright had subscribed to Gentleman's Weekly. This notion struck Stephen a bit odd as he didn't imagine it was the sort of periodical a sailor would enjoy. He picked up the top copy and contemplated it with surprise. It was the current issue, so clearly it didn't belong to Hayley's father.
Tucking the magazine under his arm, he continued looking around and discovered a set of crystal decanters. He poured a fingerful of what he fervently hoped was a decent brandy, although at this point even a horrid brandy would help, and tossed it back. The potent liquor coated his insides with a glowing warmth and he sighed in contentment. It was very good brandy indeed.
Pouring another, he settled himself in an overstuffed wing chair next to the fire and propped his feet up on a matching ottoman. He took another sip of brandy and opened his magazine.
It seemed like only several minutes later when he heard a knock. "Here you are," Hayley said with a smile, opening the door and entering the room. "I was about to give you up for lost. Are you not hungry?"
"Hungry?" Stephen looked at the mantel clock and was astonished to discover it was nearly
six o'clock
.
"I went to your bedchamber to see if you still wanted to eat downstairs, or if you preferred a tray. I thought you were resting," she said in a mildly scolding tone.
"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take you up on your offer to borrow some reading material." He glanced at the empty snifter in his hand. "I also enjoyed some of your excellent brandy. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. I want you to make yourself at home. My father loved brandy and only kept the best. It's wonderful to have someone enjoy it." She plopped herself down in the wing chair opposite him. "What are you reading?"
"The latest issue of Gentleman's Weekly." He watched her gaze shift to the magazine opened on his lap, and her skin paled, a reaction he found most curious. "I must admit, I was surprised to find a stack of current issues in your library."
Her gaze snapped back to his. "Surprised? Why is that?"
"I cannot imagine Winston or Grimsley reading this magazine, and it certainly isn't a publication for women to read."
"The, ah, boys enjoy it."
He raised his brows, intrigued by her sudden nervousness. "The boys? Don't you think it's a bit sophisticated for them?"
Color rushed into her pale cheeks. "Nathan and Andrew are very intelligent, and there is nothing scandalous about Gentleman's Weekly."
"No indeed, but you must agree it is meant for men, not boys." Before she could comment he continued, "I read it faithfully myself. I particularly enjoy the serialized stories they print."
Her color heightened further, but her gaze remained steady on him. "Indeed? Which stories do you like the best?"
"There is a series written by a gentleman named H. Tripp called A Sea Captain's Adventures. Every week he tells a different tale about the voyages of Captain Haydon Mills, an old salt who's always in one scrape or another. Mr. Tripp's writing isn't the best, but the unique nature of the stories makes up for his lacking literary skills."
Her brows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "Lack of literary skills?" She planted her hands on her hips. "I believe H. Tripp is a fine writer, an opinion shared by many others based on the popularity of his stories."
He couldn't hide his surprise at her belligerent tone. "And what would you know of H. Tripp's stories, Miss Albright?"
"I've read every single one of them. And I've thoroughly enjoyed
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