Opening the door, Michelle looked up and down the dim hallway; neither a sound nor sign of anyone presented itself. Walking barefoot towards the library, Michelle felt slightly envious of their ability to drop off into the arms of sleep so easily. Four doors down, she found an ornate set of doors, taller than the others; they formed two halves of an arch just as Margaret had described. The doors opened silently on thick hinges. As she entered the room Michelle stopped, drawing in a sharp breath. Stretched out on a cozy-looking sofa lay William, asleep. An open book lay on his chest. Michelle tarried by the door, not willing to wake him, but wanting a goodnight kiss nonetheless. Stepping back, she reluctantly began closing the door behind her.
“Don’t go, Michelle,” came the sound of William’s voice. Michelle smiled; she opened the door again but stayed on the threshold.
“You looked so peaceful… I didn’t want to disturb you,” she explained. William closed the book and stood up. Michelle gripped the door handle, suddenly feeling silly in her pajamas and bare feet.
“You’d never disturb me, love,” William said, smiling slowly. He was favoring her with one of his intense gazes. Michelle stepped back a little.
“I should... go,” she said, giving a weak smile. “To.. uh.. sleep.” William grinned, his eyes alight. In two steps, he reached her side and pulled her into the room with him; reaching over Michelle’s shoulder, he shut the door.
“You came here because you couldn’t sleep,” he said, his tone low. “I’ve been reading here only in the hope that you’d show.” Standing close to Michelle, he wrapped his arms around her. Looking down into her eyes, William was moved by the uncertainty he saw there. “I’m not going to harm you, Michelle,” he said. Michelle smiled a little.
“I know. Just... no tickling, OK?” she replied, nervously. William laughed.
“It’s that bad, eh?” he asked, amused. Michelle nodded, looking sheepish. “Well, I make no promises,” he said, suddenly releasing her. “Besides, you deserve a good tickling...” Michelle’s eyes grew wide at William’s tone.
“You wouldn’t dare....” she countered, backing away from him. William grinned.
Walking down the hallway some moments later with a glass of milk, Alfred heard laughter and shrieking coming from the library. Opening one of the doors, he peered in and then laughed at the sight before him. Michelle was perched on top of large armoire, shaking her head and grinning at William; he in turn was pointing at the ground.
“Get down here, you little minx,” William said, smiling. “I’ll call a truce, for now.” Alfred shook his head.
“I would ask but I think I do not wish to know,” he remarked, smiling. William crossed his arms over his chest.
“She’s quicker than she looks,” said he.
“He started it,” Michelle countered. “He was trying to tickle me; most unfair.”
Aiming to end the ‘war’ William turned around to get a chair. When his back was turned Michelle nimbly leaped down and ducked behind Alfred for protection.
“She’s a veritable lemur, sir,” Alfred intoned, trying not to laugh. “Perhaps, though, Miss Gregory wishes to turn in, as we all do.” He gave William a remanding glare.
“Perhaps so,” William assented, sobering a little.
“In which case I shall bid you both 'good night',” Alfred said, stifling a yawn. He waddled off, leaving Michelle in the hall; she looked warily at her boyfriend. Hands in his pockets, William leaned against the library door jamb regarding Michelle with a soft expression.
“I’m starting to like your barefoot-pajama-housecoat look,” he remarked. Michelle blushed, but kept her distance.
“I’m going to ignore that,” she said, softly. “And bid you goodnight, since I didn’t really get to earlier.” In one movement, William stepped forward and caught her in his arms again; his speed rather surprised Michelle.
“You’re not the only dexterous person around here,” William told her. He turned them both around; Michelle felt the library door behind her back. Looking up, she searched William’s eyes. “I have so many things I want to tell you, love,” he said, softly. “It’s just too early to say them.”
William thought his words sounded extremely lame... and vague, but they honestly represented his thoughts. He’d been toying with the idea of proposing to Michelle for quite a few days, in spite of their relatively new acquaintance, especially since thoughts of her kept him awake at night and facilitated the necessity of frequent cold showers; more so than at any other time in his life. However, the look of trust Michelle regarded him with made William push down his desires once more.
“Soon she’ll be mine,” he thought. Michelle observed that her companion inwardly battled with something and smiled reassuringly.
“I bid you goodnight, Sir William,” she said gently, her eyes bright. “I hope you sleep well.” William was thinking of kissing her on the forehead but Michelle surprised him by standing up on her tip toes and giving him a real kiss. William returned it, holding her tightly; he felt his newly re-enforced dam of resolve fast slipping away.
Breaking apart from her, William pushed away from the wall.
“Ah... perhaps we should say goodnight, shall we?” he said, his normally steady tone a bit faltering.
“I thought I was saying ‘goodnight’,” she said, smiling. William favored her with a look that said otherwise.
“A goodnight like that can lead to good morning rather quickly, Michelle,” he informed her, smiling. At this, his companion blushed. “So... good night?” William realized how difficult this was, even for him. This girl was unlike any other he’d ever met.
“Goodnight, William,” she replied, softly; she turned and walked to her room.
Against his better judgment William watched her every move until her door closed, cutting her off from his view. Running his hand through his hair, he trudged down the hallway to his own room, an expression of undisguised misery on his face. As he passed Alfred’s door, he heard it shut, very quietly. William chuckled. The fatherly valet was fast becoming their chaperon.
“Not such a bad idea,” he thought, once alone in his room. He turned the shower on, setting it on ‘cold’.
In her room Michelle collapsed backward on the bed, feeling absurdly like a teenager with a crush. Giggles came bubbling up and were effectively quelled.
“Honestly,” she said, to herself. “They are just kisses...”She smiled up at the ceiling. “Wonderful kisses,” she thought, closing her eyes. Michelle quickly slipped under her covers; a feeling of safety washed over her, mixing well with the affections William had inspired in her. She drifted off to sleep, wondering what William had wanted to tell her.
CHAPTER SIX
At 7AM Michelle’s eyes flew open. Somewhere beside her, a small alarm clock played classical music; the dark room felt unfamiliar and smelled of lavender. After a moment, Michelle realized where she was; she slipped out of bed with a secret smile; she wanted a shower and then to quickly dress. There was no way she could sleep in; excitement flooded her and she felt had to move about in some sort of productive manner.
The shower itself appeared quite modern one in design with a round, clear surround and a curved, hinged door; it was the kind of shower that left one feeling completely exposed while washing. Michelle wished she could put a towel over the top of it but the near-invisible wall went all the way to the ceiling. Her shower was quick though, with the bathroom door security locked. The night before, she’d discovered new bottles of conditioners and shampoo, as well as lovely, richly-lathering soap; it all smelled of the ocean and of sunny, sandy beaches. Clean and dry Michelle opened the clothes armoire and took out the light-gray wool suit-dress.
Lifting the hanger, she spied a garment-steamer hanging on the back of the armoire door. Amused at its presence, Michelle plugged it in and spent a few minutes figuring out how to use it; she’d seen it done on infomercials. To her surprise the gadget really did work, almost as if she’d had her clothes profes
sionally pressed. It ironed out the creased her white cotton blouse as well. As she put the steamer away Michelle felt a little silly spending so much time on her clothes; she had to admit that William’s words about her clothes being ‘shabby’ still rankled with her a little.
“I think this will prove him wrong, again...” she said, biting her bottom lip. She dressed quickly; looking in the mirror, she thought the shirt and gray jacket were a little low cut but it did look classic and stylish. The A-line skirt reached down almost to her ankles. Digging in her pack, Michelle found some thick gray tights and put them on, along with her dainty, brown boots. She’d brought a simple garnet-red scarf just for this outfit; winding it around her neck, she tucked the ends out of sight. Her hair she did in her usual way, down with the front pieces pinned neatly behind her ears. Not wanting to spend much more time, Michelle hastily put on mascara and lip gloss, leaving her makeup at that.
Surveying herself in the mirror, Michelle nodded.
“I don’t look ‘homeless’ in this,” she thought, smiling. Unable to put it off anymore, Michelle crept to the door, slowly turning the handle.
As soon as she opened the door she saw William; he was leaning on her door frame, apparently waiting for her to emerge.
“You’re all dressed,” he said, grinning at her.
“So are you,” Michelle returned, smiling back.
“It was so quiet in there, I thought you were asleep.” William said, not moving from the door. Michelle crossed her arms.
“I didn’t know if anyone else was up,” she replied; her smile broadened. “But, a good morning to you.”
William’s eyes took in Michelle’s appearance. The young woman looked very well; he silently took back everything negative he’d ever said about her clothes. She looked like a sweet debutante, fresh from Vassar.
“Good morning,” he returned; he lifted Michelle’s hand and kissed her warm, soft palm. Her skin smelled quite alluring; a slight grimace crossed his face.
“Are you OK?” Michelle asked, seeing his expression.
“Er... yes,” William said, giving Michelle a quick grin. “I’m glad you’re up early.” Michelle was not convinced but let it go; she took William’s arm and walked beside him down the hall. An idea occurred to her on the way down the stairs; she turned to William, with a smile.
“I have… a suggestion,” she said, her eyes bright with mischief. William beheld Michelle’s expression and raised an eyebrow.
“What have you in mind, minx?” he inquired, unable to stop smiling.
When Jean-Claude breezed into Margret’s kitchen some minutes later, he spied Michelle and William standing together by the stove. The young woman had an apron tied around her waist; she grated nutmeg into a pot as William stirred it.
“What is this?” the chef murmured, suppressing a smile. The two looked like a fetching couple, standing together and cooking. He let the door click shut behind him. At the sound, William turned and saw Jean-Claude approaching.
“It appears the lion has returned to its den, my dear,” he said to Michelle. The chef scoffed, crossing his arms.
“This is not my den, Mister Montgomery,” he said in broken English. “My kitchen takes up my entire house, with a little room for sleeping, eh?”Michelle gave the chef a smile.
“Bonjour, m’sieur,” she said, softly. Jean-Claude smiled back and took her hand, giving it a brief kiss.
“Cher mademoiselle,” he said, with obsequious flair. William hid his laugh in a cough; Michelle’s baffled expression was hilarious. Leaning between the two, Jean-Claude sniffed loudly over the pot; he grabbed a spoon and tasted the oatmeal, making discerning faces as if the thick liquid inside was lobster bisque. Behind the chef William rolled his eyes; Michelle saw it and stifled her giggle in a dishtowel.
“Bon,” the Frenchman said; he shut off the flame and sprinkled in a minuscule amount of salt.
The kitchen door opened again; Alfred ambled in, going directly towards the tea ‘station’. He and William exchanged greetings and Michelle smiled at the elderly valet. Jean-Claude grunted and began ladling the aromatic oatmeal into wide, wooden bowls. Michelle helped William set out place mats, napkins and silverware; early morning light streamed in the large windows onto the table and chairs. Michelle walked up to the windows, looking out onto the misty morning scene; she wanted to walk the estate groves more than eating, but held her piece. William saw her glancing wistfully out the window and smiled. He crept up behind her.
“You want out, don’t you?” he said, quietly in Michelle’s ear. She started and then smiled at him over her shoulder.
“You’re sneaky,” she said, turning back to the view. “I do wish to walk outside a bit. It looks so beautiful out there.”
“Well...” William began. “I suppose I could be prevailed upon, under strong persuasion, to escort you on a walk after breakfast… though trekking about the brush is not my favorite pastime.” Not turning around, Michelle smiled at the window.
“You could always sit for another portrait,” she suggested, holding back a laugh. “I bet your mother would love one of you in a suit of armor...”
“Why, you little minx!” William whispered fiercely; he glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “That’s blackmail...” Michelle looked at him over her shoulder, biting her lip.
“You said strong persuasion,” she told him, unable to keep the glee from her voice.
CALM AND clear, the chilly Vermont air surrounded the two pedestrians. William glanced down at Michelle as she strolled beside him, her hand snugly in his. The trees and fall colors enthralled her, evidenced by the expression on her face, but William noted Michelle’s natural serenity seemed to temper it. She enjoyed things with a happy, quiet demeanor, a feature of character William admired very much; he detested chatty people.
“Still,” he thought, smirking, “It is so much fun to tease her.”
“Are you enjoying yourself?” William asked his companion. Michelle looked up at him, smiling.
“Is that a trick question?” she answered; her eyes sparkled with fun. William returned her merriment in his own gaze.
“You are never boring to talk to,” he said, earnestly. “You don’t know how glad I am to have met you.” Michelle dipped her head shyly and smiled.
“The feeling is mutual, William,” she said, glancing back up at him. Ahead, William saw the ‘lake’, as his mother affectionately referred to it; it was really nothing more than a large pond; it teemed with wild birds in the warmer months.
“There’s a pretty spot here through these trees,” William said, pointing towards the water. “Shall we hike over to it?”
Michelle looked up at him, her eyebrows raised.
“Hike? Um... this is fairly flat ground; ever been to the Rockies?” she inquired, sweetly. William snorted.
“Oh, come on,” he said, pulling her towards the pond grove. Smiling, Michelle followed along with him; they wound their way through a thick area of slender aspen tree trunks; the yellow, dried leaves carpeted the ground in thick layers. After a minute, they stood on the shores of the pond. Beholding the scene, Michelle’s smile spread from ear to ear.
“How lovely...” she said, clapping her hands. Indeed it was; the slim white aspen trunks all around the water made a striking picture against the flaming red maple leaves behind. The water cast red reflections all over its gently moving surface, here and there dotted with a floating leaf. Michelle felt herself enveloped in a warm embrace and looked up at William.
“There it is,” he said, looking down at her affectionately. “I was wondering when your sweet, excited look was going to break through.” Michelle blushed.
“Oh, so that’s why you were giving me the ‘sideways scrutiny’,” she said, stepping a little away from him. “Here I thought you were just checking me out.” William grinned.
“Well, that too. Hang on... ‘sideways scrutiny’?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Where do you come up with these phras
es? Do you lay awake thinking them up or do you spend all your spare time in comedy clubs?”
“Spare time? Pfft...” Michelle said, crossing her arms defensively. “Spending over two years drawing people on a Manhattan corner would give even you a sharp sense of humor.” She looked pointedly at William; there was a slight challenge in her voice. He grinned back at her.
“Now see here,” he said, stepping closer. “... the English have a fine sense of humor. You’re asking to be tossed into the leaves and tickled mercilessly.”
“Oh sure, avoid the subject by directing your vague national rhetoric my way… followed by the inevitable empty threat...” Michelle said the phrase quickly, with a huge smile. Inwardly, she prepared to run.
“Vague... rhetoric... what?!” William sputtered, momentarily stunned by the young woman's response. He was surprised again when she took off running… and laughing. It took him a full two seconds to dart after her, his face that of a schoolboy chasing a girl across the playground.
Just about to enter the mudroom, Margaret heard someone enter the room from the outside; more like bursting in, accompanied by panting and laughter. Opening the door somewhat cautiously Margaret smiled as she saw Michelle sitting on a bench. The young woman held her sides, trying to catch her breath. The elderly lady smiled affectionately at her guest; she looked quite transformed all rosy with exercise and her eyes bright with fun.
“Well, my dear,” Margaret said, coming fully into the room. “I would ask if you are alright but I can see you are. William is on your heels, I assume?” Michelle nodded, still trying to breathe.
At that moment William burst through the door. Not expecting to see his mother standing there, he started, lost his footing on the loose rug and slid into the wall, landing on his rear in a rather undignified manner. Pointing, Michelle laughed so hard she nearly fell off the bench. Hiding a smile in her hand, Margaret faked a cough.
Draw Me A Picture Page 17