The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton Read Online Free Page B

she picked her way up the rocky slope. He concentrated on placing one foot in front of another until he heard shouts from below. Without forethought he fell to his knees, pulling Celia down with him, and rolled them both behind a rocky outcrop.
    “Ow!” she complained, when he landed on top of her.
    “Shh!”
    “Why did you do that?” She shoved at his chest.
    He put a hand over her mouth. “There happen to be at least two men down there,” he hissed, “and my guess is they are looking for us, so be quiet.”
    She nodded and he released her. “I heard them,” she whispered, “but do you have to lie on top of me? There’s something sticking into my leg.”
    “Sorry.” He shifted his lower body so his hip rested on the ground. “Better?”
    “Not really.”
    Once again he adjusted his weight but they were on a steep hillside and gravity pulled him down, squeezing her recumbent body between his and the rock. “I can’t move further back without exposing myself to view.” Stretching his neck, he peered around the side of their shelter. “I can see down the hill,” he said. “There are two men and they’re searching the area. We’d better keep quiet and keep still.”
    They lay together for many minutes listening to the ebb and flow of their pursuers’ voices. His concentration on their location was disturbed by the sound of his own breathing, and more especially that of his companion. As he strained to make sense of the men’s shouting, the gentle undulations of her chest beneath his took on an outsized importance. One fact kept penetrating the mingled concerns of physical pain, mental bewilderment, and present danger. That the body lying against his was undoubtedly a female one. And that the female in question was—perhaps—his betrothed wife. Through his confusion, the thought added piquancy to their situation.
    He wondered if he’d ever kissed her. Tilting his head he observed a generous mouth. Whatever else he forgot, surely he’d remember its touch. Slightly ajar, it emitted a soft warmth that tempted him to taste. But the stormy expression in her eyes belied the invitation. His beloved’s temper, if the experience of the past hour or so was anything to go by, didn’t match the sweet promise of those lips.
    How could he blame her? She’d endured a day every bit as trying as his own. On the other hand she did, at least, know who she was.
    Hoof beats down the hill put paid to his musing.
    “What’s happening?” she said, wriggling to escape.
    “They’re riding off. Their horses must have been behind the house.”
    “Most likely one of them is yours.”
    “What color is my horse?”
    “A bay.”
    “Those two looked like a gray and a chestnut.”
    “Can you be certain from so far away?” For some reason she sounded defensive.
    “No.”
    “You see? It may easily be a bay.”
    “Is it important?”
    “No,” she said. “I suppose not.”
    A fter two hours hard trudging, a broad, swift stream halted their progress. A nearby stand of trees offered shelter from the still-powerful evening sun. With matching sighs of relief they cast themselves down in the shade.
    “Let me look at your head,” she said.
    He fingered the tender spot on his skull. It didn’t feel too terrible a wound and the walk had diminished the throbbing. “It’s all right,” he said. “The bleeding stopped.”
    “I’m going to clean it. Wait.” She scrambled down the slope to the water. Glad to rest, he sat and leaned back against the trunk of an oak tree. Closing his eyes, he tried to contemplate his bizarre situation. Since deep cogitation made his head ache more, he gave up until Celia returned and fell to her knees beside him.
    “Tilt your head forward,” she commanded. She probed through his hair and gently palpated the sore spot with cool, soothing fingers. “It’s quite a lump,” she said, “but the area of broken skin is small and a scab has formed. Head wounds always bleed a great deal, even