I went into the bedroom and stirred the fire a bit, then climbed up onto the massive bed, wondering if I should close the curtains or not--they were so artfully draped that I wasn't sure they were actually meant to be functional. I slid out of my slippers and dressing-gown and slid in between the sheets, picked up my book, and settled in to wait for Michael to turn up. It really had been a long day, though, and I was asleep before I knew it, the latest Poirot novel open on my face.
"You're pretty when you're asleep," Michael woke me up, stroking my hair.
"Why'd you wake me, then?" I smiled up at him. I had no idea what time it was or how long I'd been asleep, but he looked as if he'd been asleep himself, flushed and tousle-haired.
"You're more fun when you're awake," he answered, coming in for a kiss. He wasn't wearing pajamas, and had been busy with my buttons before he woke me, so things progressed from there pretty quickly.
"If that's how they do it at Charterhouse," I gasped out quite some time later when we lay exhausted side-by-side, "then I'm sorry I went to Eton."
"I didn't learn any of that at Charterhouse," he gasped back, brushing his damp hair out of his face with his fingers.
"Cambridge, then?"
"Hardly," he laughed, coming up on one elbow and looking down at me, "I get most of my hints and tips from the stables."
"Your stables must be a lot more interesting than mine," I told him, reaching up to pull on the curtain of dark hair hanging down over his eyes.
"What was all that billing and cooing at my sister tonight?" he asked, suddenly very serious.
"I was just being friendly," I shrugged cavalierly, though that's hard to do when you're lying down, "She's a nice girl, I like her."
"If that's you just being friendly, I'd like to see what you think wooing looks like."
"Pretty much like this," I said, rolling over and pinning him to the mattress, sitting on his hips and holding his hands above his head.
"Do this to my sister and I'll have to call you out," he warned, though his eyes were twinkling as he struggled unconvincingly against me.
"I don't expect she likes me enough to let me, do you?" I asked thoughtfully.
"How should I know?" he said in the same thoughtful tone, "I'm not even sure she likes men."
"Well, I'll let you know when I find out," I said, letting go of him and laying back down beside him, "Let's not talk about Lavinia, I'd rather talk about you."
"I'd better get back to my own bed before Molly comes around to light the fires," he said regretfully, cuddling close and burying his face in my neck, "I don't want to get out in the cold, though."
"Already? What time is it?"
"It's almost dawn."
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