Page 44 of The Storybook Hero
Indeed, Alex realized he hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in years. He had nearly forgotten how stimulating an intelligent conversation was—even more so than the usual activities he was accustomed to with females. But then, this was a most unusual female.
It was with a real twinge of regret that he broke off a debate on the merits of the Lake Poets just as it was heating up, for he suddenly noticed that Octavia’s lips had turned a rather ghastly shade of blue and her cheeks had gone from red to white. He raised a mitten to touch the tip of her frozen nose. “Into the sleigh with you now. I’ll not have my tiger turning into a block of ice.”
“You speak as if you are familiar with such luxuries.” Though Octavia father could never have afforded the type of gentleman’s groom known as a ‘tiger,’ she knew what the term meant “I didn’t think penniless tutors could afford anything like a tiger,” she said lightly, reluctant herself to end the discussion.
“No, of course not,” he replied quickly. “I meant the other sort.”
A spasm of emotion flickered across her face. “You think me all fangs and claws?”
He eyed her for a moment. “Tigers have a silky softness to them as well. And the strength that lurks beneath their lithe curves only adds to the fascination.”
The color returned to her cheeks. “Mr. Leigh,” she warned. “I thought you promised not to indulge in such blatant nonsense.”
“Hmm.” He pulled the horses to a halt and got down from his perch. “Though we may argue over the finer points of rhyming couplets until the Neva freezes over, I’ll brook no resistance from you about going inside for a time.”
Though Octavia had taken the precaution of securing a pair of warm felt boots and a flapped fur hat for herself, she found the cold had still penetrated every muscle, making even the slightest movement a chore. Grateful for his outstretched arms, she allowed him to help her to the ground. “Very well. But only if you join us for a brief respite. Surely you must hungry by now. I had the proprietor make up a parcel of bread, cheese and somethingI assume is pickled cabbage. Perhaps we might even kindle a fire for some hot tea.”
His hands seemed to remain around her waist a touch longer than was necessary. “I suppose it would do no harm to rest for a while.” He let go of her and started toward the door. “Still no sounds of battle,” he said in a low voice. “Either peace has been declared or the casualties have been heavy.”
Though she smiled, his words also brought a guilty expression to her face. “We have left them to their own devices for an inordinate amount of time. I don’t know how the hours could have passed so quickly....”
Alex opened the carriage door. At first there was no movement inside, only the soft murmur of a voice—a female voice—from the far corner.“…. It was a still moonlight night, and the music, which yet sounded on the air, directed her steps from the high road, up a shadowy lane, that led to the woods …Then slowly Emma looked up from the book in her lap as she became aware of the two adults peering in.
From beside her came a strangled gasp. “Don’t stop now, Miss Emma! What is going to happen to her in the woods?”
Octavia fought to keep a straight face. “I believe you will survive the suspense until after a bit of luncheon, Nicholas. Emma, kindly hand me the parcel at your feet.”
The girl reluctantly laid aside the leather-bound volume. “Oh, very well.”
“Alex,” exclaimed his young cousin. “We are reading a most enjoyable tale in which?—”
“Yes, I am familiar withThe Mysteries of Udolpho. You have yet to come to the really good parts, with dungeons and fainting heroines ”
The boy’s eyes lit up.
“Why does the heroine always have to faint? I wouldn’t faint,” groused Emma as she passed the bulky oilskin package to Octavia. “Why can’t the hero faint sometimes?”
“Men don’t faint,” scoffed the boy. “Only?—”
“It does seem shockingly unfair,” murmured Alex quickly before the truce between the two young people could be broken. “Apparently, Mrs. Radcliffe did not have the good fortune to meet such formidable females as our present company, else her tale would be great deal more ... interesting. Don’t you agree, Miss Hadley?”
Octavia tried to ignore his dancing blue eyes and teasing smile, but a little shiver coursed down her spine that had nothing to do with the weather. “Come along, all of you,” she said briskly. “We should not linger overly long if we wish to reach the next inn before nightfall.”
It was,however, well past dark by the time the little party pulled to a halt before a timbered structure even more ramshackle than the previous establishment. Alex helped the others down from the interior of the sled, having insisted that Octavia go inside with the children for the last few hours of the journey. For some reason, she had not argued.
Smoke from a leaky stove swirled around the small public room, but it was at least warm, and the few other travelers hunched in their seats paid them little heed. After choosing at a table in the far corner, Alex went to inquire about supper and lodging for the night.
“Cabbage soup,” he announced with a grimace on his return. “I vow, I shall shortly grow long ears and a fluffy white tail if thiskeeps up. It is almost enough to make one long for the execrable meals at White’s?—”
Octavia looked at him oddly.
“—The White Swan, that is,” he went on hastily. “In Whitechapel. The food is terrible but it is a pleasant enough place to meet one’s friends.”
Emma and Nicholas had brought the book with them. Heads bent low over the open pages, they were soon engrossed in finishing off another chapter. Their excited whispers rose and fell with the rhythms of the gothic prose.
“I see that Montoni and company have not yet lost their appeal,” remarked Alex.
Octavia heaved a mock sigh. “I may be forced to reconsider your remark on a certain author being prone to excess sensibilities, especially when forced to endure several hours of such work read aloud by two enthusiastic twelve-year-olds.” She shook her head. “Whose performance, I might add, would no doubt match anything seen on the boards in London.”
