Faces of the Wind

Chapter 41

The library wasn't very spacious but the ceiling was high with a mezzanine to help reach the top shelves through a narrow wooden spiral staircase. There used to be a wooden ladder before, but precious Phillip fell off it when he was young and broke his leg, prompting his mother to replace it with a staircase. The shelves housed thousands of valuable books, many of which Catherine Hammers, a binge-reader, has read. The bright wooden color of the walls and flooring were illuminated by the many candles a bright yellow as if made of gold.

"Quite a cozy library," said Kathleen as she closed the door. "The Medleys have a huge house but very few books. I heard Dora suggest they buy more books and improve the study because it reflects taste and sophistication." She giggled at the thought then walked slowly towards Adrian, who stared in her direction with glassy eyes. She drew closer and placed a hand on his chest.

He knew exactly why he showed this beauty into the library... and he regretted it the moment that door was shut—as if the sneaky sound of it awoke something inside him. It was scandalous and he wanted no more scandals, but his judgment was clouded with jealousy and a yearning for vengeance. Now that he is capable of biting back, he did not want it. It felt petty. He no longer wanted to be that frivolous, cheap rascal. Most men of reputable status would take the chance and lie with this beauty, especially when she is offering herself on a silver platter, but he wondered if they loathed themselves for it as much as he did at the moment.

"Is something amiss?" She asked, her voice close to a whisper. She ran the back of her fingers down his cheek. He studied her flawless, white complexion and perfect features. Her beauty was captivating, but there was something about her that made her far from interesting for him. She was fragile and pulled the perfect conventional act when need be, two traits that attracted most men to a woman and made her even more desirable, but not him.

He knew his desire for her was neither fully carnal nor affectionate. By having her, he sought to prove something and knew his plan was pathetic—one which he had tried so many times and it almost always ended badly... if not for both parties involved, for one of them, and it was the lady. And this lady is rebelling and, obviously, her judgment as clouded as his before the door was bolted.

He held her hand and gently dismissed it. "I'm sorry, Kathy," he said, "we're here only to see the library."

Her smile faltered. "Are we?" She raised a brow.

He raised his brows, tightened his lips and nodded. She drew closer and ran her lips slowly down his neck. He felt guilty—he did not want to lose Arden. He missed her. He wished she was here, not in Kathleen's place, but to speak to him, to challenge his mind, to shatter away his loneliness.

But what Arden does not know would not hurt her, he tried to convince himself as Kathleen's hand reached for his groin. He knew he was wrong. It might not hurt her, but it will haunt him. He had not pledged himself to her, but there was... an understanding, and now that he has earned her respect and, he believed, her affection, too, he did not wish to get on her bad side again.

He withdrew his body, accidentally hitting the small table behind him. The golden candle holder danced then settled again in its original place.

She stepped back and swallowed her embarrassment. "What is wrong?"

I'm a changed man, he wanted to say, but it felt shameful. "Things – have changed f-for me," he said instead.

She stared at him a long moment, her composure intact. She finally shrugged. "I heard so," she replied, "and I heard it wasn't for the better." She gracefully turned and left the library, closing the door gently behind her.

Adrian's fists clenched and his lower lip trembled. He bit it. That bitch! He breathed heavily then walked to the door and punched the wall beside it when suddenly it flung open and his nose bridge went numb with pain. He jumped back. The pain forced his eyes shut. He groaned, cupping his nose with both hands.