Page 330 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Yes, mon ami.” Thomas cocked an ear. “And if I am not mistaken, ’tis Josquin.”

Iain slid his gaze up the side of the castle to the tower window. The unearthly notes of the harpsichord that managed to filter through the sealed shutters wrenched at him.

“She plays every day about this time,” Thomas said. “We have been glad for the music again after so many years.”

Iain turned his stare onto Thomas for a long moment, then pushed open the heavy door and headed for the stairs leading to the north tower.

A moment later, he stood outside the room. His hand shook as he pushed the door ajar, and Iain startled at the sight of his mother’s familiar figure seated on the faded bench. He blinked and the apparition fled, snapping his captive back into focus as her deft hands made love to the instrument much like his mother had so many years ago. He stood transfixed as the lass’s voice held him mesmerized.

The cold of November sets your cheeks full of blush, And the sky’s full of clouds, still, never fear, never fear Love moves on the wind, so quiet now, hush.

Be still or you'll miss it, that promise so near.

The future that calls will not so long wait.

Though your soul yearns to follow, still you delay.

Be careful, my sweet, before ’tis too late. Your heart, it knows, as love comes, so it goes, And if cast away, all is lost, all is lost.

She stopped so abruptly Iain felt as though a whip had lashed out, drawing blood. He stepped back, leaned against the wall, and waited. A moment passed and more music drifted into the hall. How long he stood listening, Iain didn’t know, but when he finally made his way to the great hall, his men were gathered around the table for the evening meal.

* * *

Victoria moved along the dimly lit corridor with startling familiarity. Strange how a lifetime had so easily melted into a few short weeks. Reaching the library, she closed the distance between the door and the far wall. She gazed at the highest shelf, well beyond her reach where the castle plans lay.

“You are fond of books, mistress?” Thomas said.

Victoria whirled. He leaned against the wall just inside the room. Sweet Jesu, the man did have an uncanny way about him. She was faring no better in the light of day than she had the other night when he and Father Brennan trapped her behind the cabinet.

Thomas flashed a broad grin.

She nodded. “It is a fine library.”

“Indeed.” He straightened and strolled to the desk near her. “Particularly for an uncivilized Highlander.” He picked up the book lying on the desk.

Her cheeks warmed and she cursed the faint curve of the rogue’s mouth. Should she reveal the knowledge of his part in her abduction?

“There are those among us who have found their way into a book or two,” Thomas continued as he thumbed through the volume.

Nay, she decided. The information would be better left for a time when she might demand a favor in return. “Do you have an interest in art?” she asked, noticing the Italian text he perused that referenced the great da Vinci.

Thomas smiled. “I am a simple man, but do, on occasion, find use for such information.”

“This is your library?” Victoria bit her tongue, unsure why she’d asked a question she knew the answer to. Thomas’s face was turned slightly away from her, hiding his features as he studied a page.

“Nay.” He shook his head, giving away a smidgen of the laughter Victoria knew was at her expense. “Eric insisted Iain attend university in Glasgow, therefore it was necessary to have a proper library here.” He waved a hand indicating the wall of books.

“There is a university in Scotland?”

Thomas looked at her. “It rivals even your Oxford and Cambridge. Iain’s father sent him there when he was sixteen. He studied there eight years.”

For a moment Victoria forgot about the man who had kidnapped her and thought only of the boy who had been taken from his parents. “So young,” she murmured.

“’Tis not uncommon.” Thomas shrugged. “And he is an intelligent man. You have noticed. Oui?”

She blew out a short breath. “It would be impossible to miss.”

Swinging a thigh onto the corner of the desk, Thomas leaned against the wood. “As it would be impossible to miss about you, chérie.”