The Last Summer Read Online Free PDF

interested, and I don’t suppose I’d be too happy to know you were idling with the housekeeper’s son.’
    ‘It’s up to me who I choose to idle with,’ I said, staring back at him, our eyes inches apart. I saw him glance to my lips then back to my eyes, then back to my lips.
Kiss me. Kiss me now
, I begged silently.
    He raised his hand to my face – as though about to touch it; then, in one swift movement, pulled away. ‘You know, you’re quite dangerously beautiful, Clarissa Granville. Just as well you’re kept locked away here,’ he said, and rose to his feet. ‘Come. I should take you back.’
    ‘But it’s not late. I don’t need to go back, not yet.’
    ‘I need to get back.’
    ‘Why? Will your mother be worried?’
    ‘Clarissa . . . it’s not right for us to stay out here – alone.’
    ‘Why ever not? What’s going to happen? I hardly think you’re about to seduce me, Mr Cuthbert. No, I feel quite safe here with you.’
    ‘Aha! But perhaps you shouldn’t.’
    ‘Why? Do you plan on seducing me?’ I asked, rising to my feet, looking back at him, into his eyes. ‘If so, do please tell me – as I’d like a moment to prepare.’
    He pulled me to him. ‘You really shouldn’t say such things . . . you’ve no idea . . . have you?’
    He held me tightly; his mouth so close I could feel the heat of his breath – in short sharp bursts upon my face.
    ‘No idea of what?’ I asked, watching his eyes on my lips.
    Kiss me. Kiss me now.
    ‘No idea,’ he repeated, turning his face away, releasing his grip. He stepped back from me, thrust his hands into his pockets and looked up at the sky with a groan.
    ‘I’m sorry . . .’
    He sighed, turned to face me. ‘What are you sorry for? You’ve no reason to apologise. Come, let’s walk back,’ he added, smiling at me once more.
    We began to walk across the lawn in the direction of the house. ‘I’m sorry if . . . if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable in some way,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid my brothers’ teasing has probably blunted my sensibilities . . . made me too flippant.’
    At the edge of the lawn, he stopped, looked down at the grass. ‘Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow . . .’
    ‘Yes, perhaps,’ I replied, glancing away, towards the lake in the distance.
    ‘I still need to look up a few books in your father’s library . . .’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Perhaps, later in the day . . . around four.’
    I turned to him. ‘Yes, around four, I’m sure that will be fine.’
    He smiled, and as he began to move away – walking backwards – he said, ‘Oh, and Clarissa, promise me one thing . . .’
    ‘What’s that?’ I asked, intrigued.
    ‘Promise me you won’t read another word of that book.’
    I laughed. ‘Of course not, I promise.’
    And then I went inside, to the library, pulled out the book and took it up to my room.

Chapter Four
     
    I awoke early the following morning: catapulted back to my bed from Tom Cuthbert’s arms. We’d been lying in an exotically decorated open-sided tent, on the lawn, under the sycamore tree. ‘
Clarissa
. . .
Clarissa
,’ he’d repeated, holding me tightly, gazing into my eyes. Then he’d kissed me, and the passion of his kiss had woken me. I closed my eyes and returned there, to languish once more in his arms. But as I felt his hands move over my body, I realised my state of dishabille; for I was in nothing more than my flimsy summer nightgown, which he appeared to have unbuttoned. And I leapt from my bed, still breathless and hot from that imagined kiss.
    I was distracted over breakfast, and Mama, too, was unusually silent. She liked to check the menu for dinner each morning and almost always read it out loud, but not today. I stood by the sideboard, staring down at my reflection in a polished silver lid. Perhaps I should wear my hair up . . . As I lifted the lid from a dish of devilled kidneys, my mother sighed, loudly, and then informed me that she was going out to make calls later that