Chapter Four
After wandering around, lost in my thoughts, I realized I didn’t know the way to my room. I groaned at my own stupidity. Howell Home was huge; I should have paid attention on the way down to the library. Looking around in dismay at all the identical doors, I spotted one next to a painting of a woman reading to a little girl that looked somewhat familiar.
I knocked softly on the door, but there was no reply. Cracking the door open just enough to stick my head into the room, I gave an uncontrolled squeal of delight and quickly pushed into the room, making my way through a small library while taking in its perfection. It was absolutely charming, and I could have happily died right then and there. There were hundreds of books lining the floor-to-ceiling shelves. A beautiful bay window, complete with a window seat covered in oversized decorative pillows, overlooked a quaint courtyard.
Two comfortable-looking armchairs were arranged in front of a small, cozy fireplace. A large writing desk sat in another corner of the room. The decor was on the masculine side, but it was warm and inviting. I walked over to the seating area and picked up a book someone had left on one of the chairs.
It was a slim book of poems by Edgar Allen Poe. I smiled and was setting it back down when a door I hadn’t noticed jerked open. I jumped, accidentally dropping the book to the floor as Dr. Aldwin Blake walked in. He looked shocked to find me there.
What the heck? This is a library, right?
When I took in his appearance, I noticed he had shed his coat and tie, and a number of the top buttons of his shirt were undone.
My gaze was riveted to the several inches of skin exposed there. I felt my cheeks warm and then promptly felt foolish—I lived in the twenty-first century, where men and women could practically prance around nude if they wanted. And here I was, all hot and bothered over a little chest exposure.
That’s when it dawned on me. Dr. Blake had just come through a connecting door, which probably connected to his bedroom. This was his freaking personal library.
Holy crap.
He was standing there, looking at me like I was losing my mind, when I finally found my voice. “God! I am such an idiot. I was looking for my room, which shouldn’t have been too hard to find if I’d been paying attention, when I stumbled upon this library—your library, evidently. I was so charmed by it that I didn’t stop to think it was a private library. I’m sorry. If I had known…”
My babbling died off as Dr. Blake stepped toward me, his proximity cutting off my train of thought. He stopped just in front of me and retrieved the book I had dropped.
“No apologies necessary, Miss Hannigan.”
He smiled a crooked little grin, and I swear to God, I nearly melted into a puddle right there. I turned my eyes away from his gaze, afraid he’d be able to sense how he affected me. I was mortified. He was practically a stranger.
“Do you enjoy reading, Miss Hannigan?” he asked, his tone once again cool.
I nodded, not wanting to risk my inner pink-loving, teenage-babble-monster getting out again.
“Well, there are hundreds of excellent books here and in the downstairs library. Feel free to borrow any you’d like. Would you like me to show you to your room?”
I nodded again, feeling like an idiot.
When we arrived at my room, I turned to him, wanting to make up for my appalling behavior. And then, to my absolute dismay, I heard myself blurt out, “Are you blind in your right eye?”
His face showed shock and disbelief for a second before his features settled into a cold, detached mask. “Yes, Miss Hannigan, I am.”
He barely whispered the response, but it cut me deeply all the same. With that, he turned on his heel and left me standing in my doorway, my hand placed over my treacherous mouth.
By the time I struggled out of the corset by myself—which took entirely too long and involved foul language—washed my face in a water basin, and finally lay down on my bed, I was unable to quiet the tornado of thoughts and emotions swirling around in my head. I still clung to the hope that I’d wake up safe and sound back in my apartment in 2004, and I’d laugh my butt off at the ridiculously elaborate dream I’d had. But, as much as I craved that, I was coming to the conclusion that my reality was much, much more complicated. Not only had I found out I’d time-traveled to a different year and that vampires were real, but I’d also found out I was chosen to wield powers and help fight the forces of evil. I was so in over my head, just hoping I could live up to all the expectations and do whatever it took to get back to my time. Still wide awake a little while later, I wasn’t surprised to hear Phoebe knock at the door.
When she came in, her arms loaded with clothing, my mood darkened even further. Not only did I owe Mrs. Howell for taking me in—and now for all the clothing—but I also owed Dr. Blake an apology. I wasn’t very good at owing people. I’d worked hard for everything I’d gotten in my old life; that fact was something I was very proud of.
As soon as I had turned eighteen, my parents’ small trust fund was released to me, and I’d said adios to the hellhole of a foster home I’d lived in for the past year, choosing to rent myself a small apartment in Charleston. Furnishing it with odds and ends from various thrift stores had kept my bills to a minimum, and I’d started selling repurposed vintage clothing on the Internet recently, so the small amount I had left wouldn’t dwindle down too far. I really hoped I’d see my little eclectic apartment again soon.
Phoebe helped me dress again, and even though I had to put the accursed corset back on, I couldn’t help but smile at my reflection as I left for dinner. I thanked Phoebe and fiddled nervously with a strand of my hair as I headed out the door. I was just going around the corner when Dr. Blake’s door swung open and he stepped out. Dear Lord, he looked yummy in his black evening clothes. He stopped mid-stride when he caught sight of me, and quite comically, his jaw dropped. He recovered quickly, and his gaze raked over me, assessing me and leaving my skin feeling uncomfortably warm all over.
My dress was made from a lovely, dark green satin; it had little capped sleeves and left most of my shoulders bare. The bodice was trimmed with tiny, black seed pearls. The entire dress was bustled in the back, and the fabric cascaded down to my feet. When he still hadn’t said anything, only stared at me, I began to fidget and lose confidence.
“Is it horrible? Phoebe said it was perfectly acceptable for an evening meal, but I don’t know the appropriate attire for dinner here.” I self-consciously touched the back of my hair, which had been neatly arranged in a lovely loose knot on top of my head. A green satin and black-lace rose was pinned to the side. “Phoebe said the green dress brought out the auburn of my hair.” I bit my lip.
“You look lovely,” Dr. Blake said softly.
I released the nervous breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as he turned to leave. Catching up to him quickly, I touched his arm to get his attention. He stopped so abruptly that I plowed into his back. It was like running into a small tree—a small, firmly muscled tree—and I rebounded off him at least a foot.
Dr. Blake turned lightning fast and grabbed my arms to steady me before I ended up ass-over-teakettle. As soon as I was steady, he jerked his hands off me as if I’d burned him. I didn’t blame him, but it still hurt.
“Was there something you wanted, Miss Hannigan?”
Yes… for you to call me Sage.
I shook my head to clear it. “No… I mean, yes!”
“Well, which is it?” he asked impatiently.
I swallowed hard and met his cold gaze without flinching. Heat rushed to my face, and I frowned slightly. There was something about him, other than his magnetic pull and handsome arrogance, which made me all giddy. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
“I want to apologize for earlier today.” He started to cut me off, but I raised my hand and pinned him with the haughtiest stare I could muster. “What I meant to say was, I didn’t mean to be so rude and pry into your personal business like that. I don’t kno
w what came over me. One moment I was opening my mouth to thank you, and the next moment, I was insulting you. It was inexcusable.”
By the end of my little speech, I was looking at the ground and fiddling with my stone pendant. A large hand closed over mine, and I immediately stopped fiddling—hell, I think I stopped breathing. I looked up into his eyes and found they weren’t quite as cold as usual.
“You’re welcome,” he said gently.
He let go of my hand and stepped away, much to my addled brain’s disappointment. “If you’ll walk with me, I’d be glad to show you to the dining room.”
A huge grin split my face, and Dr. Blake looked slightly stunned for a second. I took the arm he offered and followed him to dinner.