Birdie and the Beastly Duke by Sofi Laporte
Chapter 15
Birdie’s days were suddenly busy. After having inspected the old school building in the village, she’d concluded that the only thing one could reasonably do was tear it down. The roof had fallen in, there was no fireplace, it was pitifully cold, and there was mold on the walls. It was not a safe place for children to learn.
“This will not do at all,” Birdie had said. She marched back to the lower courtyard of the castle and investigated the buildings there.
There was the chapel. Next to it were stables, a smithy, and another building which must have been servants’ quarters in medieval times. Edifices that once must have served as the pantry, buttery, and bakery had been moved into the keep throughout the centuries. Most buildings had doors and windows missing. One bigger building may have served as a servant hall. It was now a storage room full of crates and old furniture.
“This one.” Birdie turned to a group of women with a nod. They carried brooms, buckets, and rags. “This will be our school.”
When cleaned, painted, and furnished, it would be a spacious, functional schoolroom. Until then, she could teach the children in the library. She helped the women dust and scrub the place. Pleased with her day’s work, yet with tiredness weighing down heavily in her bones, she returned to the main hall.
Gabriel foundBirdie asleep on the recamier in the drawing room. The fire had gone out. Her head rested on one arm; her hand curled like a child’s. She looked innocent but troubled in her sleep. There were dark shadows under her eyes. Dust clung to her shoes and clothes.
He looked at her helplessly.
What a brave soul she was.
A fighter.
A heart full of kindness and generosity.
She deserved better than this. She deserved better than him. He was too broken.
He pulled off her dusty shoes and placed them by the door. He re-lit the fire and picked up the blanket that had fallen on the floor and carefully draped it around her. He reached out with a shaking hand and tucked an errant strand of hair off her forehead. Maybe it was the smooth, silken touch of her skin. The long brown lashes that curled on her skin. The warm scent of lavender that filled his nose. The lush curve of her mouth. Something stirred in him, deeply. Without thinking, he bent over her, inhaling her scent. His mouth went dry.
Suddenly, her eyes popped open.
He held his breath. He feared the look that surely would enter her eyes. The look of terror. Of disgust.
But her gaze merely rested on him. There was no surprise, only acknowledgement that he was here. Her eyes were dreamy and lit with golden flecks in her green-brown irises.
He drowned in them.
She reached out her hands, one on each side of the face, touching him there. Pulling him down.
She kissed him. As lightly as a feather.
Dazed,he walked down the dark corridor toward his lonely tower room.
It had been but a dream. The power of the mind. An illusion. He’d desired her, so he’d imagined kissing her.
She was still there, sleeping, dreaming, never knowing he’d been there.
Then why did he still feel her gentle touch on his marred cheek?
Why did his lips tingle?
Birdie had dreamta prince had entered the room. He was beautiful and kind. He’d tucked a blanket about her when she shivered, pulled off her shoes and re-kindled the fire. He’d caressed her cheek with gentleness as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.
She’d felt taken care of.
Safe.
Because she’d wanted to see her prince’s face, she’d opened her eyes and kissed him. It had been sweet, warm, and light. She’d felt a happiness course through her she’d never felt before.
It had felt right.
Everything will be all right, she thought, as she turned, curled back into her pillow, and slept.