Returned to the comforts of the novice hall, Taylor felt misplaced. She had cried to Laurie who had taken her under her wing, but Laurie was mistaken in assessing Taylor's tears. The muted pallet of décor in the novice hall did nothing to staunch her tears. For once in her life, this wing of endless down-filled satin cushions, gauze-like veils from floor to ceiling steeped in femininity was her prison instead of her saving grace.
She could not believe how foolish she looked tonight, trying to find out more about Mr. Leif's past than he was willing to share with her. And offering him something she had no right to offer without Sir Glen's permission...if he found out she knew she'd never see Mr. Leif again. The little bits of stories she was able to glean from the three or four remaining sources in the conclave were little help. With the exception of Laurie, all remembered Mr. Leif as an insufferable troublemaker and had been glad to see him go. Upon hearing his return and the status in which he returned, all they could do was hope he had left to become a better person.
The servants assigned to Mr. Leif had absorbed all the gossip, and as such, sided with the companions. They did little to help make his stay more pleasant. It was Taylor who awoke early in the chill of the morning to light the fire in his room. It had been Taylor who had bribed the laundry to starch Mr. Leif's shirts. If Mr. Leif's meals had not always been in the company of Sir Glen, she was certain that in the kitchens she would have found a cold shoulder there as well. Laurie did all she could from her end, she twisted the arms of the servants who prematurely left his rooms before all the work was done, but both Laurie and Sir Glen knew that there would be more opposition faced by Leif than the eccentricities of the servants.
She lamented, though her eyes were closed. The sheet she slept under twisted about her legs, reminding her of the night he had scened with her. It had been exhilarating to feel his touch direct her. He was quite through in wrapping the buckles around her ankles and then again on her wrists. It had been a surreal experience, an event she never wanted to forget.
A seductive smile crept across her lips as she recalled looking into his eyes when he had drawn her back into his arms. If nothing else, she did have to admit he made her feel as if she was his, regardless that she truly was still under Sir Glen's watchful eye. It was his voice that graced her ear asking if she could last five more minutes in that scene. She could not be certain if it had been his hands that had teased her endlessly, but it was his encouragement she wished to hear, his praise.
