VIOLET DAWN

Chapter 23

The hallway was dark when Patrick shrugged out of his jacket. He cast a look towards the stairs before moving away towards the back of house. She would be sleeping and after the ordeal on the road he was loath to wake her... no matter how much he wanted to.

The library was dark except for the little bit of light coming through two of the long windows Mrs. Devon's had forgotten to cover.

"You're back."

Patrick turned towards the dark corner from where the soft voice had come. His Vampire vision adjusted and he saw her. Feet bare, toes peeping from under an old white shift; it was the first time he had seen Violet looking this vulnerable.   

"What are you doing here?" It was not the question he wanted to ask, but those were the words that came from his mouth.

Violet stood, then came forward until the light from the windows illuminated her face.

"I couldn't sleep and then I smelled these," her hands swept over the books along the walls, "I have never been surrounded by so many books before."

"You've never been in a library?" Patrick's fingers itched to touch her glossy hair. Like a black waterfall it ran down past her shoulders, brushing at her waist.

"There didn't seem much point to go."

Feeling like a fool, Patrick started to apologise but she stalled him.

"I admit I always did wish I could have read at least one book..." her voice trailed off, wistful.

She looked sad. Concerned, he moved closer to her, "Are you alright?"

Her face was tipped up towards him, her pale green eyes made even paler by the moonlight. How could she look so innocent, so frail? This was the gypsy that faced lions and guns without flinching! The same woman who had been held hostage by a highway robber only hours ago. 

Rage blazed through him as he remembered how the man had grabbed her. She should have stayed in the carriage and he was about to tell her so when she spoke.  

"I'm glad you are not hurt."

Patrick's anger subsided just like that.  The softness in her voice, the look on her face...he cleared his throat trying to ignore the strange ache in his chest. 

"Was there a particular one?" he asked.

"A particular one?" she didn't understand him, but was reacting to his shift of mood.

"A particular book you wanted to read?"

"Oh," Violet seemed thrown off and oddly, that pleased him. "Well no... any book would have done, really."

"Alright," Patrick move to the nearest shelf and selected a leather bound book at random. She had had a rough evening, he reasoned as he moved back beside her and pushed a lock of hair out of his face. That was why he felt the need to do this for her. "Take a seat."

Violet was still confused, he saw it in her tense shoulders. She obviously did not like not knowing what was going on and he couldn't blame her; he didn't either and somehow she always managed to make him feel at a loss.

"Patrick... I don't know..."

"I'm glad you have given up on the 'my lord's'. Now sit."

This time, she did as she was told. Patrick leaned a hip against the window ledge and turned to the first page.

"Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy."

Violet's mouth parted slightly , but she said nothing. As Patrick read the lines, her body relaxed, her eyes closing her ears hanging on his every word.

Patrick turned the pages, engrossed in the story. The early morning sun climbed into the sky casting its pale light into the library.

"He walked down, for a long while avoiding looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the sun, without looking..." he reached the end of chapter and closed the volume. Violet had been still for so long he was certain she had fallen asleep.

"Thank you," her voice startled him. Feeling a little self conscious at the gratitude in her voice, Patrick lay the book on a nearby table.

"I think it is time for bed."

"Yes." Violet seconded his suggestion, but made no move to get up. The air grew thick with anticipation as Patrick stood and walked to where she sat.

Her face turned towards him, she did not smile, but instead put both hands on the arms of her chair, lifting herself. The hem of her shift brushed over his boots, her breath stirred his shirt collar.

Violet lifted her hands and placed them on his shoulders. Her head tipping back, she sighed softly. "It would be so much easier if you weren't so kind."

Patrick frowned at her words, but was distracted when her delicate fingers curled around his evening jacket and pulled him in for a kiss.

Her lips were sweet and demanding and they lit a fire in him that was impossible to resist.

"Come upstairs with me Violet."

"Hmm?" she was dazed. Without another word, Patrick lifted her in his arms and walked out of the library.

Her head nestled in his chest, her fingers running lightly over his exposed throat.

He counted the steps as he climbed them. One...two...three... Violet's fingers went silent on his skin. Eight...nine...ten... By the time Patrick reached the bedroom he knew that the woman in his arms was fast asleep.

Crossing over to the four poster bed, he lay her down gently and pulled the covers to her chin.

Violet mumbled something incoherent and curled to her side, pulling her knees up and looking for all the world like a little child.