Symphonies in E Minor

Chapter Nine: The Unexpected Lunch Guests

Harry swears he only leaves Miss Kincaid for half an hour that morning. He's walked away to write a letter to his father about the financial situation and came back to her in the library, slumped in her seat, her head tilted to the side, making her neck stretch at an uncomfortable angle. He winced at the sight of it. She'd fallen asleep.

Now, Harry stands in front of her, unsure what to do about this. She's clearly not going to be comfortable for much longer and she'll most likely pull something if she stays in that position. Her neck will ache when she wakes up.

But he's also never had to wake anybody up. His ears burn with embarrassment at the idea of waking her. He imagines her unleashing a slew of Gaelic swear words at him for disrupting herself.

She also deserves to rest her body though, he thinks, tucking his hands into his pockets. After the whole ordeal this morning, her mind must be tired from overthinking and stressing. She needs to rest. And the icing on the cake, he remembers, is that she doesn't like waking early, especially in the winter. So she must catch up on her sleep.

He cannot leave her like this. Her eyebrows are slightly creased, her mouth barely ajar. She's sleeping very deeply. He feels guilt for wanting to wake her.

At first, he decides to simply drape a blanket over her. Even that makes him heat with embarrassment, but the issue of her neck would remain. He can give her a cushion to tuck under her chin, but her legs will soon be cramped also. And she's still wearing her boots.

He can poke her. That should be enough to rouse her. What a shame. She's quiet when she sleeps. He also must do it quickly. Watching her sleep is making him feel a type of way.

And so he reaches over and pokes her shoulder, swiftly stepping back. For someone who's in a deep sleep, this is enough to rouse her.

He's expecting the Gaelic insults, but as he's bracing himself, Miss Kincaid's eyes open slowly. He's holding his breath. She raises her head and looks around the room tiredly.

"Miss Kincaid," Harry says quietly, not wanting to alarm her. "Allow me to escort you to a guest chamber so you can rest more comfortably."

She closes her eyes.

"Miss Kincaid," Harry repeats.

Her eyelids lift again and she frowns, confusion all over her face. She finally looks at him with her sleepy eyes and Harry's hand clenches.

She murmurs softly, "Hmm?"

"A room," he says, swallowing. "So you can rest."

She starts blinking more frequently, sitting up properly. "Sir? Oh. I fell asleep?" She gives him a tired smile. "I always nap after returning from your lessons."

"Ah."

"Were you speaking to me before I fell asleep?" Her forehead creases with worry.

"No," he assures her. "Lunch will be served in an hour, so allow me to show you to a room where you can relax."

Miss Kincaid yawns, covering her mouth through it. "I'm embarrassed now, sir."

I am too, he thinks to himself. "Don't be. Come."

With clumsy movements, she manages to get to her feet. Harry doesn't offer his arm to her just yet, wanting to let her fix her dress, but she pays no attention to it. She reaches for Harry's sleeve immediately. Fuck's sake.

He begins to lead her out the library and down the hallway to the stairs. "Hold onto the railing."

Miss Kincaid smiles drowsily. "You werena lying when you said you'd take care of me."