The Countess by Catherine Coulter

“No bats.”

He cursed then. I was so surprised I nearly fell over.

“It’s that damned Blue Room,” he said, and cursed some more. “You saw what you

believed to be a ghost, didn’t you? You fancied you saw something, and it scared

you witless.”

“I did see something. It was horrible, and it was real. It tried to kill me with

a knife that had a wicked curved blade. I grabbed George and ran. Here. To you.”

If he thought that was strange, if he wondered why I wouldn’t run instead to my

husband, who was only one bedchamber beyond his at the end of the corridor, he

didn’t say anything, just pulled me back against him again. I wrapped my arms

tightly around his back. His flesh was so warm, so smooth, and he was a man?a

dangerous man. Here I was all plastered against him, and I had almost nothing on

at all. A simple nightgown.

“Oh, damn,” I said, and very slowly I began to pull away from him.

There was a measure of amusement and something else I could not identify in his

voice. “I wondered how long it would take for you to realize that you were up

close against the beast, and he just might be more dangerous than whatever it

was you saw in The Blue Room.” Then he sighed, a very deep sigh. “You know, Andy,

the beast isn’t dangerous at all, but you just can’t bring yourself to believe

that, can you?”

I couldn’t deal with this now, I just couldn’t. “You are speaking nonsense, and

it simply isn’t appropriate now.”

He laughed. “Come with me. Let’s get some light in here, and you can tell me

more about this creature who attacked you with a knife. George, be quiet, I’ll

pick you up again, just give me another minute to light the candles.”

George and I trailed after him, because I wasn’t about to let more than a foot

get between us. But first, I closed his bedchamber door and locked it.

“I don’t think the creature followed me, but I don’t want to take any chances.

If the creature were to come in, just perhaps you would swoon with fright, and I

would once again find myself in a very bad fix.”

He just shook his head at me. “You were so frightened you couldn’t even talk as

of two minutes ago, but now you can jest about it. You are really quite amazing.”

He was still laughing when he managed to get the candles lit.

He held up the branch of candles and looked me up and down. “You’re probably

getting cold,” he said, and fetched me his dressing gown. He dressed me in it as

if I were a child. Then he tied the sash at my waist.

George whimpered. John leaned down and picked him up.

“Thank you for coming to the door so quickly. Another three seconds, and I would

have tried to kick it in.”

He looked down at my bare feet. “You say the most outlandish things. It is a

gift you’ve got.” He set George on the floor again, and moved the candle branch

to a small table beside the door. Then he walked right up to me, pulled me

against him, and began stroking my hair. It was curling wildly down my back, my

night hair ribbon that secured it was long gone.

“Are you all right now?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, and now I knew fear from another quarter.

“Perhaps,” he said, pulling away from me and picking up George again, “it’s time

for you to fetch your husband. You know, that old man right down the corridor

just on the left? Surely he is the one, not your step-nephew, to help you in

this matter, don’t you think?”

“You bastard,” I said, turned on my bare heel, and walked to the door. I

unlocked it. I was pleased that my hands were steady.

When I pulled the door open, I saw Lawrence and Thomas running from opposite

directions toward me.

Lawrence reached me first. He took in John’s dressing gown, my bare feet, my

wild hair, and said, “Something happened. Are you all right?”

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