Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,35

was Miss Howard. She probably wrote long, rambling letters that went on for pages.

The door of the dining room opened, and Nash forgot his pacing. But it wasn’t Miss Howard. He recognized the large shape of Rowden.

“Is she here?” Nash asked.

“Who? Mrs. Brown?”

“Miss Howard.”

“Ah! I forgot she was to come today. I have to go out.”

“Where?” Nash asked, suddenly not wishing to be alone should Miss Howard not make an appearance.

“I’m going to Blunley to eat dinner and perhaps raise a glass.” Blunley was the closest village to the east. It was a bit larger than Milcroft and boasted an inn and posting house.

“Mrs. Brown is making dinner.”

“Forgive me, Nash, but while your Mrs. Brown makes do with what she has, cooking is not her strong suit. I want music, people, edible fare. You can come with me if you like.”

“No,” Nash said suddenly. He could not imagine the confusion and disorientation of being in a place like that without his ability to see.

“Come on,” Rowden said. “Aren’t you tired of this place? Let’s get out. We’ll find some pretty girls, perhaps find some trouble.”

“You will find trouble and end up in a fight.”

“Nothing wrong with a good fight. It cleanses the palate.”

“Miss Howard is coming.”

“Right.” There was a long pause. “Well, then I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t wait up for me.”

He closed the door, and Nash reached into his pocket for the pistol. It was still there. He touched it for reassurance, then stiffened as he heard a voice in the foyer. Her voice. She must have been at the door when Rowden opened it. Before he was ready for her, the door opened and she walked into the dining room, crossing directly to him. He almost took a step back, but she grasped his hand and shook it.

“Mr. Pope, how are you?” Her hand was cold, and she smelled of the wind and the damp fields she must have crossed walking there. “Did I interrupt dinner?” Pause. “Oh, but there’s no food on the table. Why are you in here?”

“I like it in here,” he said. He was aware he should release her hand, but he liked the feel of it. He wanted to warm it.

“Perhaps we should sit in a room with a fire,” she said, not trying to pull her hand away. In fact, she squeezed his hand as though she understood his need for contact. Abruptly, Nash released her.

“You’re cold. I should have thought of that.”

“I am a bit chilled, but if you prefer this room—”

“We’ll go to the library.” He didn’t know why he suggested the library. His only association with the library had been his father. But she would think him strange if he changed his mind now. She did not move, and he realized she was waiting for him to lead the way. Idiot! It was as though he had forgotten how to behave when he had lost his sight. “This way,” he finally said, moving around her.

Of course, as soon as he began to walk, he realized he did not want her following him, watching him. He navigated the house by touch. He could see the outlines of shapes, but he couldn’t always trust his limited vision. Sometimes the shapes were shadows and not objects at all. More than once he had walked into a chair or avoided nothing but a shadow. He debated walking without touching chairs and walls as he went, but then he decided that he would look more a fool if he tripped over something than if he moved carefully.

“How are the repairs coming?” she asked from behind him.

“How should I know?” He realized immediately he had answered too sharply, but it was a ridiculous question. “In case my stumbling about hasn’t made it clear enough, I cannot see.”

“Oh.” The tone of her voice was that of one who has come to understand more than what the speaker has imparted.

Nash turned to face her. “What does that mean?”

“Oh? It’s a common acknowledgement used in speech.”

“That’s not how you said it. You said, oh. Like, oh, now I see.”

“I suppose you are right,” she said. It surprised him that she did not argue or try to deny it. “I suppose I should have known you would be angry, but I thought you might have moved past that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When my sister became blind, she went through a similar phase. At first, she was in denial. Even when the doctor told her she would never