Seeing that the cleaning procedures were under control, he decided it was high time he devoted some effort to the Brightmore endeavor. After telling Simon that he’d return in several hours, Andrew left the museum.
One way or another, he would find the answers he sought.
Chapter 17
Matters concerning love and affairs of the heart are very much like military campaigns. Strategy is key with each move carefully planned so as not to fall victim to potential ambushes. If, however, in the pursuit of her intimate goals, Today’s Modern Woman finds herself in a situation that reeks of failure, she should not hesitate to do what many military men have done in the past: retreat with all possible haste.
A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of
Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment
by Charles Brightmore
Catherine strode up the neatly swept walkway leading to the modest cottage nestled cozily in the shade cast by a copse of towering elms, driven by an overwhelming combination of anger, confusion, and desperation she barely understood. Muted sounds drifted toward her from the back of the fieldstone residence including a sheep’s plaintive baa and the quacking of several ducks.
As she raised her hand to knock, a deep voice hailed her. “Lady Catherine, hello.”
She turned. Dr. Oliver walked toward her, his face wreathed in a surprised smile. Tucked under one arm, he cradled a small, snorting pig.
“A new patient, Dr. Oliver?” she asked, hoping her return smile did not appear forced.
He laughed. “No, she’s payment from my last patient. I was just reassuring her not to worry-I‘m not overly fond of bacon.”
“I’m certain she’s much relieved.”
He held the baby pig at arm’s length, and asked, very seriously, “Are you much relieved?”
A series of snorts met his question, and he nodded. “Glad to hear it.” He nonchalantly tucked the pig back into the crook of his arm, then made Catherine a formal bow. “What brings you to my humble abode? No one is ill, I hope?”
“No, we’re all very well, thank you. I’m here to make a request.”
“And it will be my honor and pleasure to grant it. If you’ll wait here for just a moment while I settle my little friend in the pen in the back, we can go inside.”
Standing in the shade offered by one of the elms, Catherine watched him disappear behind the cottage. He reappeared less than a minute later, and she carefully observed him approach. There was no denying that Dr. Oliver was handsome. Very handsome. From a strictly aesthetic viewpoint, certainly far more handsome than Mr. Stanton, who, with his rugged features and crooked nose was better described as “attractive.”
For the first time, she noted the breadth of the doctor’s shoulders. The trimness of his waist. The length of his muscular legs outlined in his snug breeches. The smoothness of his gait. With his sun-streaked brown hair and hazel eyes, he was just the sort of man to set a female heart to flutter. The fact that her heart was not fluttering only added to her desperation and strengthened her resolve. It would flutter soon enough.
When they entered his small, but tastefully furnished drawing room, he asked, “Would you like some tea, Lady Catherine?”
“No, thank you.”
He indicated the pair of brocade wing chairs flanking the marble fireplace. “If you’d care to sit-”
“I prefer to stand.”
His brows shot upward in a questioning look, but he merely nodded. “Very well. How may I be of service to you?”
Now that the moment was upon her, Catherine’s courage sagged. Good Lord, surely she was mad to have embarked on this errand. But then she thought of the Guide, of all its liberating precepts, and she stiffened her spine. Today’s Modern Woman seizes the day. Is forthright in what she wants. And she knew what she wanted. She had a point to prove to herself, and by damn, she was determined, desperate, to prove it.
She raised her chin. “Kiss me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I want you to kiss me.”
He stared at her intently for what felt like an eternity, as if trying to see into her mind. When he finally moved, instead of drawing her into an embrace, he lightly clasped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Why do you want me to kiss you?”
Catherine barely resisted the urge to tap out her impatience against the parquet floor with her shoe. Good heavens, nothing in the Guide had suggested a man might ask such a question.
“Because I…”want to know, need to know, must know if another man can make me feel the things he does…. “because I’m curious.” There. That was certainly true.
“Curious to see if you might feel something warmer toward me than merely friendship?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I could easily satisfy your curiosity without kissing you, but only a fool would turn down such an enticing offer. And I must admit, I’m curious myself…”
He drew her into his arms and settled his lips upon hers. She rested her hands upon his chest and rose on her toes, a willing participant. Obviously the good doctor was well versed in the art of kissing-but he did not set her heart to fluttering. Not even a tiny bit. His lips were warm and firm, but they did not generate the fiery sensations Andrew inspired with a mere look.
Oh dear.
He lifted his head, then slowly released her. After studying her for several seconds, he stepped back and regarded her with surprise. “Rather sparkless, wouldn’t you agree?”
She felt her cheeks blaze. “I’m afraid so.”
“So, has your curiosity been satisfied?”
Self-recriminations rained down on Catherine, filling her with shame at using him in such an unkindly manner. Good Lord, what sort of person had she become? She wasn’t certain-but she knew she didn’t like herself very well.
Heat born of mortification singed her. The fact that he’d found their kiss as lacking as she clearly indicated that he did not carry a tendre for her at all. And she’d just thrown herself at him. Like a common trollop. She would have laughed at her own conceit if she’d been able to do so. Instead she prayed for a gaping hole miraculously to appear in the floor to swallow her. Retreat, her mind screamed. Retreat!
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I-”
“There’s no need to apologize. I understand perfectly. I confess that I once kissed a woman in order to compare my reaction to another. Indeed, I believe it’s a very common practice. Rather like sampling both strawberry and blueberry jam to determine which you prefer.”
His good humor and understanding only served to make her feel worse. Again her mind commanded her to retreat, but before she could move, he said, “Do not look so distressed, Lady Catherine. From the moment I arrived in Little Longstone six months ago you offered me a friendship I value highly. You have invited me into your home to share meals and laughter, and except for this tiny aberration have never given me false hope that we could ever be anything more than friends-an aberration I appreciate as it satisfied my own curiosity. We are destined to be only friends.” He skimmed the pad of his thumb over his lips and winked. “Better friends than most, but still only friends.”