Tonight, I did not bother to light a candle. I groped my way up in the dark, one hand on the cool wall, the other on my walking stick. I lived on the first floor, one story above the ground floor. The rooms, one in front and one behind, had once been the house's drawing room and grand bedchamber, and the ceilings were high, a drawback in the cold of winter. Plaster arches, once carved to resemble vines twisting around pillars, crumbled a little more each day. Bits of plaster were apt to float down and land in my coffee.
When I opened the door to the front room, I found a single candle glowing there, and to my surprise, Louisa Brandon sat in my armchair.
Chapter Four
We stared at one another for the space of a moment, then I closed the door and stripped off my gloves.
"Did you not receive my message?" I asked.
She rose to her feet in a rustle of silk. "I did. But I wanted to see you."
I came to her, and she raised her cheek for a kiss. Her light perfume touched me as I pressed my lips to her smooth skin.
I wanted to grow angry at her for presuming to seek me out, but I could not. I always felt a lightening of the heart in the presence of Louisa Brandon, despite what was between her husband and myself, and after the events of this day, my heart needed soothing.
I released her hands. She'd stirred the fire, but it burned feebly, so I knelt and shoveled more precious coal into the grate. "Does your husband know you're here?" I asked as I worked.
"He knows I have gone to the opera."
I gave the fire a cynical poke. "In other words, he knows you are here."
Louisa resumed her seat with a graceful sweep of skirt. "Aloysius does not keep me, Gabriel."
I rose from the fireplace and tried to speak lightly. "I will send for coffee if you want it, but I do not guarantee you will like it. I suspect the landlady at the Gull brews it from old boots."