while he escorted her to the door. "Nor did he engage in such trade while in England, not even in a minor way. It would not do, would it? He is a gentleman, after all."
"Hurry I cannot wait any longer. Faster." A deep groan followed Miss Blair's exhortations. "Oh, yes. Finally, yes ."
Elliot stood outside on the balcony with his back rested against the building's wall. He laughed to himself at the moans coming through the door beside his. Phaedra being relieved and released of stays and satin sounded much like a woman being relieved and released in other ways.
He could hear her dismissing the servant, then muttering. "What hell. Never again. Women are mad to dress thus."
Vague sounds of her moving in the chamber seeped out. He walked a few paces down the balcony and resumed his pose right outside her door.
"Did you survive, Miss Blair? Or were you permanently deformed?"
She stuck her head out, looking for him. She startled when she saw him so close. "You find this amusing, don't you?"
"Not at all." His laugh made a liar of him.
She frowned furiously. "Stay there. I want to talk to you about something." Her head ducked inside.
A few minutes later she emerged, swathed in black. Her hair had not been taken down yet so she was not completely back to the Phaedra of old.
"How much longer do you intend to keep me here?" she asked.
Her words alluded to everything that had occurred since the day he entered that garden in Naples. They contained all of her resentments.
"A few days. Longer if you like. You must admit it is tasteful here."
"I did not sail from England in order to rest."
"We can leave in three days, if you want. However, I thought that you appreciated the company of those who knew your mother."
She moved to the balustrade and looked out on the black sea. He watched her back and saw the naked body despite the drapery hiding it.
"I confess that I am enjoying this visit more than I expected, except for la signora's impositions today. This detour, while inconvenient, has proven fortuitous. I should have considered that it would be useful to—that meeting people from my mother's circle was not only possible but more probable if I accompanied you."
Why she might find it useful would be intriguing if the night were not so quiet and cool, and the moonlight did not make her so lovely.
"Has Mr. Greenwood lived here long?" she asked.
"He bought the properly perhaps six, seven years ago. He only took permanent residence four years ago. The last time I visited the building was quite rustic still."
"I expect that he knows all the experts on antiquity, from Milan to Sicily."
"Most likely It is not so large a group and they naturally seek each oilier out"
"So he was a university don who bought this villa, made improvements, and moved his life here. He must come from a wealthy family."
His hunger was impatient with her small talk but he would indulge her for a while. He pushed away from the wall and joined her at the balustrade.
"He lived frugally when at Cambridge. A relative bequeathed some money, however. This villa probably cost less than a small house in London. Property does not have the same value here." He admired the intricate workings of her hairstyle. It would take a long time to release this part of the night's finery. Too long. He would leave it be.
Aside from one glance she did not read to his proximity "He spoke as if he visits the excavations often and knows the archaeologists there."
"I expect so. Why are you so curious about him?" Matthias was old enough to be her father, and Whitmarsh almost so, but their admiration of her beauty tonight had provoked a few jealous suspicions that probably were not warranted. They pricked now again, irrational but sharp, spiking his desire with the thorns of possessiveness.
"In my father's memoirs there are some pages that created questions for me about my mother's last years. I asked Matthias about them, and am wondering how much weight to give his
"Hurry I cannot wait any longer. Faster." A deep groan followed Miss Blair's exhortations. "Oh, yes. Finally, yes ."
Elliot stood outside on the balcony with his back rested against the building's wall. He laughed to himself at the moans coming through the door beside his. Phaedra being relieved and released of stays and satin sounded much like a woman being relieved and released in other ways.
He could hear her dismissing the servant, then muttering. "What hell. Never again. Women are mad to dress thus."
Vague sounds of her moving in the chamber seeped out. He walked a few paces down the balcony and resumed his pose right outside her door.
"Did you survive, Miss Blair? Or were you permanently deformed?"
She stuck her head out, looking for him. She startled when she saw him so close. "You find this amusing, don't you?"
"Not at all." His laugh made a liar of him.
She frowned furiously. "Stay there. I want to talk to you about something." Her head ducked inside.
A few minutes later she emerged, swathed in black. Her hair had not been taken down yet so she was not completely back to the Phaedra of old.
"How much longer do you intend to keep me here?" she asked.
Her words alluded to everything that had occurred since the day he entered that garden in Naples. They contained all of her resentments.
"A few days. Longer if you like. You must admit it is tasteful here."
"I did not sail from England in order to rest."
"We can leave in three days, if you want. However, I thought that you appreciated the company of those who knew your mother."
She moved to the balustrade and looked out on the black sea. He watched her back and saw the naked body despite the drapery hiding it.
"I confess that I am enjoying this visit more than I expected, except for la signora's impositions today. This detour, while inconvenient, has proven fortuitous. I should have considered that it would be useful to—that meeting people from my mother's circle was not only possible but more probable if I accompanied you."
Why she might find it useful would be intriguing if the night were not so quiet and cool, and the moonlight did not make her so lovely.
"Has Mr. Greenwood lived here long?" she asked.
"He bought the properly perhaps six, seven years ago. He only took permanent residence four years ago. The last time I visited the building was quite rustic still."
"I expect that he knows all the experts on antiquity, from Milan to Sicily."
"Most likely It is not so large a group and they naturally seek each oilier out"
"So he was a university don who bought this villa, made improvements, and moved his life here. He must come from a wealthy family."
His hunger was impatient with her small talk but he would indulge her for a while. He pushed away from the wall and joined her at the balustrade.
"He lived frugally when at Cambridge. A relative bequeathed some money, however. This villa probably cost less than a small house in London. Property does not have the same value here." He admired the intricate workings of her hairstyle. It would take a long time to release this part of the night's finery. Too long. He would leave it be.
Aside from one glance she did not read to his proximity "He spoke as if he visits the excavations often and knows the archaeologists there."
"I expect so. Why are you so curious about him?" Matthias was old enough to be her father, and Whitmarsh almost so, but their admiration of her beauty tonight had provoked a few jealous suspicions that probably were not warranted. They pricked now again, irrational but sharp, spiking his desire with the thorns of possessiveness.
"In my father's memoirs there are some pages that created questions for me about my mother's last years. I asked Matthias about them, and am wondering how much weight to give his
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