Page 112 of Prelude To You

She looked at me, genuinely concerned. “You seem a little pale. Is everything all right?”

I imagined for a second what Miss Leyland would say if I explained what happened over the last two days. How silly it would all appear to her. What would she think about me being seduced by a charlatan who basically ruined my life? And all that after knowing him only two damn days.

Was I all right, fuck no. I was a first-class mess with a broken heart. There was also no way that would kill my plan to do the best job I could here.

“Oh, I’m great, thank you. Couldn’t be better. Top of the world.”

Miss Leyland was not easily fooled. “You should have stopped atI’m great,” she said.

I nodded and shrugged, desperate to get away from that question. There was just no clarifying any of it and I didn’t want her to think it might affect my work. “I’m fine, Miss Leyland. I really don’t want you to worry that anything will interfere with my job.”

“I didn’t assume that for a second, Isabel. We all have our less-than-joyful days, and still we go on. I’ve texted Nelson, he should be here any minute. If you’ll please excuse me, I have afew things to attend to. I’ll check in with you and Henry a bit later.”

“Thank you,” I said. Miss Leyland left the staffroom, and the complete silence that followed threatened to crush my decision to set my emotions aside for the day.

I went to one of the huge windows that looked out over the estate, where there was no end to the glory in sight. Lovely gardens no one visited, beautiful paths no one walked, gazebos where no one sat to read a book or enjoy a drink.

No doubt the dull ache between my thighs had a lot to do with my melancholy mood. Shouldn’t that ache go along with some pleasant pondering? All it did was wake my body up to wanting more of Roman.

But even when I tried to shove this crazy longing to the farthest corner of my mind, it took but a small memory for it to come roaring back and start eating away at my insides.

“Isabel?” Nelson called out from the doorway. “I’m here to take you to the library when you’re ready.”

I spun around, happy to have my morbid thoughts interrupted. “Sure, I’m ready.”

As Nelson and I started our journey down one of the long hallways, I tried to set imaginary markers. “I guess I need to pay attention going to the library,” I said. “I get the feeling it’s not on my restricted map.”

Nelson grinned. “The library is located just slightly into the south wing, so it’s definitely not on your map. But I’ll show you an easy way to remember, then you can go to the library any time you want to. The only person still using it…” He stopped abruptly. “Well, it’s rarely used and that’s such a pity. I think it features in a coffee table book about private libraries somewhere.”

I could have asked Nelson a thousand questions, but I didn’t want to put him on the spot. My curiosity had to be shelveduntil another time, even if I desperately needed the distraction of finding out about other people’s lives.

Finally, after a journey that taxed my delicious soreness, we arrived. Nelson stopped before two enormous oak doors and swept them open with a flourish.

As I entered, the room took my breath away. The ceiling was nosebleed high, and an incredible stained-glass skylight took center stage, shimmering soft hues over the entire room. Countless books rested on shelves bathed in shafts of light that streamed in through mammoth windows. The room smelled of leather and wood, and the patina of time seeped from the walls.

At one end of the library, a spiral staircase led to a second level of books. That had to be the section Miss Leyland said would hold the classics. An open-plan balcony with an invisible glass railing offered a full view of the lower floor with its very long, lovely oak table and chairs.

I was in love. Nelson gave me a moment to gather myself. “I hope you find this adequate, Isabel. The classics are on the second floor, left side. Take your time. I’ll be back in a while.”

I nodded, my gaze sweeping the room. “I think this will do fine, thank you Nelson.”

After he left, I noticed a leatherbound book on the oak table. Neatly aligned with the table’s edge, so definitely not randomly discarded after having served its purpose. It was about contract law. Someone in this house was interested in contract law, and hadn’t bothered putting the book back in its place.

I opted to put it back where it belonged, which took a while because what did I know about the library system they used. But then I found a gap in a row of leatherbound books and figured that’s where it should go, next to the other books on, what do you know, contract law.

I went up the spiral staircase, one painful step at a time, to peruse the classics on the second floor. It was a glimpse intoheaven. I decided on Lady Chatterly’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence, and for something a bit different, The Complete Short Stories of Roald Dahl.

Even if I didn’t know Henry yet, I thought he might find the books entertaining for different reasons. At least my own nerves wouldn’t be ripped to rags at John Steinbeck’s whim.

Before I went down the spiral staircase again, I saw a stack of vintage board games on a back shelf. They were in mint condition, like they’d been bought but never used. There was no way poor Henry only wanted to listen to someone reading a book the entire time. Monopoly seemed like a game he would thoroughly enjoy. I made a mental note to ask Miss Leyland first.

When the door below opened again, I knew Nelson was there to take me to Henry’s room. I scrambled down the spiral staircase. He grinned at my book choices. “Interesting.”

“Well, you know Henry,” I said. “Would he like these books?”

“Not to be morbid but I don’t think Henry cares what you read to him at this point,” Nelson said. “Though I’m sure on some subconscious level, he appreciates the company.”

I memorized the path from the library to Henry’s room, determined to go back and get those games. A woman about my age was vacuuming the carpet in the hall. When she saw us coming she switched the vacuum off and stood aside, waiting for us to pass. I smiled at her. “Hello, I’m Isabel.”

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