After Midnight Read Online Free PDF Page A

of what was inside them. That was as important to her as his love for the books.
    "I've never seen so many books in one library," she breathed in awe.
    Gordon leaned against the door jamb, his arms crossed over his chest. She hadn't been able to help but notice that his black frock coat was freshly pressed, his Irish lace cravat brand new. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought he dressed for her.
    "I dare admit collecting and reading has become my major interest. It's a good way to pass many lonely days."
    Emily ran a long, slender finger down the leather spines of his books. "Herodotus, Calderon, Machiavelli, Boccaccio," she said. "And American authors, too! Jefferson, Grant, Poe." She spun around to face him, secretly pleased she'd allowed Ruth to dress her this morning. She wore a blue brocade gown that Ruth said emphasized the color of her eyes and highlighted her red-blonde hair. "Where did you get all these books?"
    He shrugged, seeming embarrassed by her attention.
    Modest, too
. Emily admired a modest man.
    "Acquired them over the years." He smiled almost bashfully. By the light of the day, he seemed younger, even more elegant than last night. "I've had many years to collect, ye know."
    She smiled, realizing he was teasing her about his tale of being a vampire. By the light of day, the illusion was harmless enough, even charming. "Of course. You've been acquiring for what, about six hundred years now?" A book caught her eye and she pulled out the volume. "Is this really an original collection of Shakespeare's comedies?" She opened the cover and perused the first page.
    "Aye to your first question and your last." He walked over to the bookshelf she stood before and pulled out a couple of volumes. "You'll want to see these, too."
    She accepted the books, but weighed down by them, glanced around the crowded room for somewhere to sit.
    "I'm sorry I've no chairs. I had my last manservant remove them so there'd be more room for the books. But you're welcome to take a crate." He scooped up a pile of books from the nearest chair-height shipping crate.
    Emily didn't care where she sat, she just wanted to get a better look at the Shakespearean collection. Without bothering to dust off the box, she sat down. "Are all these boxes filled with books?" She glanced up from her perch.
    There was a desk, piled with books, two tables, piled with books, and then at least a dozen slatted wooden crates, some as tall as she was, stacked in the room. To reach the shelves at the far side of the twelve-by-fourteen room, she would have to weave her way through the maze of boxes and draped objects.
    "Aye, well, most of them. Also a few paintings. I buy things, but then sometimes it takes me a while to get them unpacked and placed where I want them." He scowled, perplexed, as he gazed at the crowded room. "I've a DaVinci sketch I picked up from Rome some hundred, hundred and fifty years ago, and I've not been able to locate it." He pried back a slat in the nearest box, peered in, and coughed as dust rose from inside. "Nay, not here. This one's from Cairo."
    She glanced up from the book, amazed by the man. None of her employers had ever amazed her before. No man, in fact. "Egypt?" She could have sworn she smelled hot, dry, sand. Of course he was teasing her again. One hundred and fifty years, indeed.
    "Aye." He grinned at her boyishly. "A bit of sculpture from a tomb. I'd prefer to see the artifacts left where they lie, but alas, that's not always possible, is it?"
    He seemed saddened by his words and she felt a softness for him. Then she felt silly for falling for his ruse. The box probably had no Egyptian artifacts from a tomb in it. It was probably just full of sand.
    She lifted an eyebrow. "So you buy the artifacts to protect them?"
    "Better I say that collectors such as myself should purchase them to keep them from being sawed in half and sold in pieces. Often I make an acquisition and then donate the artifact to a museum."
    She