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That didn’t stop her touching the pillow and stroking the coverlet She could have spent an hour in his roo in the cool air She ed into his shirt, sipped his brandy, read his book Such was the depth of her growing obsession

The sudden thud froasp from her lips She strained to listen, was convinced she heard the rich ru

A desire to see hiloomy corridor While her sto a phantom dressed in Jacobean finery, she took co to the attic

It wasn’t difficult to find the ht spilled fro of a door Sybil crept closer and peered through the gap

Lucius Daventry was sprawled on an elegant chaise, wearing nothing but a white shirt open at the neck and buckskin breeches His eyes were closed, and she ht him asleep had he not uttered another vile curse

Without warning, he pushed to his feet and strode over to the bookcase He scanned the row of cloth-covered books, picked one and studied the recto beneath the light of the standing candelabra

“Beloved son,” the words left his lips on a wind of conte back to the chaise and resu his relaxed position

Sensing his distress and having witnessed his pensive , she couldn’t leave hiht turn on their master

“Lucius,” she called s

oftly and pushed open the door

He didn’t reply but lay there consumed by his morbid mood

“Lucius” Sybil stepped into the room

Her voice seemed to pull him back from the darkness He turned his head a fraction and stared at her through tored free from their miserable prison

Her pulse pounded in her throat “I heard a noise, thought I heard your voice”

The intense stare that once roused her anger roused a host of different e she could barely breathe