Lady Knightley's Secret
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‘Is she, indeed.’ Elizabeth was decidedly sceptical. She would never trust her sister an inch, but at the same time would have granted her the opportunity to say her piece. ‘I shall certainly listen to what she has to say, but I’ve no intention of remaining here all night.’
‘Let us hope we’re permitted a choice, my dear,’ he responded drily and, easing himself off the table, held his candle aloft. ‘In the meantime, we may as well make ourselves as comfortable as possible. There’s no saying how long we’ll be forced to wait before we’re released from our temporary confinement.’
He discovered a pile of sacks in a crate and began to carry them across to the table. ‘Spread these out. At least we’ll have something soft to sit on. And, thankfully, we’re not short of something to quench our thirsts, either.’
He began to inspect the wine racks while Elizabeth placed the sacks neatly over the table. ‘If I know anything of butlers, there’s sure to be an opener here somewhere. Ha! Here it is, ready for his secret tipple, but no glasses, I’m afraid. Still,’ he shrugged, ‘one cannot expect every creature comfort.’
He rejoined her at the table and, after helping her to climb upon it, settled himself down on the sacks beside her. The opening of the bottle was accomplished easily enough, and he offered her the first taste, smiling at her grimace as she foolishly took rather a large swallow of the excellent old brandy.
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