My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader screen TXT) 📕

or his but to the stairs, urging her to descend.Stifling her frustration as they descended, Hero asked, “Where arewe going?”

“Did you know that I have a music room?”

“I did,” she answered, wondering at theinnocence of his chosen topic. “I take it, you did not?”

“No,” Ian said as he led her to the roombelow and to the left of the Round Drawing Room above. Dropping hisarms, he indicated that she should precede him. “I discovered thisjust today.”

“It’s directly next to your study,” shepointed out.

“Makes it that much more surprising, doesn’tit?” The corner of Ian’s lips tilted in a decidedly roguishhalf-grin that made Hero’s heart skip.

“So many instruments. A pianoforte even finerthan the one above. A harp, horns, and much more. But I am curious,what is that thing?” Ian tilted his head and Hero tore her gazefrom him to study the orchestrion, taking a few deep, steadyingbreaths.

About four times as large as an upright pianowith a heavily carved wooden shell, the orchestrion held a completewoodwind orchestra inside. Multiple horns fanned along the backlike the pipes of an organ, but there were kettledrums, side drums,cymbals, tambourines, and even a triangle inside this model aswell, explaining the clamorous sound it produced. “It is anorchestrion,” Hero explained. “The bellows power it. Those bigcylinders hold the music. I believe there are ten songs on eachone? In any case, the Queen and Prince Albert have one and Robertfelt it a compliment to their good taste to acquire one aswell.”

“It is a monstrosity.” Ian spoke the wordssoftly, his tone at odds with the words. And he was not looking atit at all but rather at her.

“There is no other word better suited forit,” Hero agreed as he neared.

“But it is made to play music, aye?” heasked.

Ian’s eyes were dark and intense as he lookeddown at her, and Hero felt anticipation skitter across her. Shefelt unnerved and inexplicitly jumpy. “Yes but it is better suitedto a larger venue.”

Ian looked oddly disappointed by that, soHero ducked under his arm and crossed over to another wooden boxthat was set on a side table near the fireplace. This one was ofsmooth burly maple set with brass. Hero ran her hand over itlovingly before lifting the lid. “This one is perfectly suited toplay in a room this size, though.”

Gooseflesh lifted on her skin as Hero feltIan approach behind her until he was just inches away. She couldfeel the heat radiating from his skin, nearly feel the change inthe air pressure between them with every breath he took. The tempoof her heart raced once more, quavering unsteadily in her chestuntil it felt as if her ribs encased a flock of butterflies.

“A music box?” he whispered into her ear.

“Yes,” she said as Ian reached around her topick up one of the brass scrolls from their stand next to thebox.

“Is this one a waltz?” he asked softly, hisbreath tickling the back of her neck, arousing her even more.

Hero released a shaky breath and took thescroll from him. She replaced it on the stand before reaching foranother. “No, but this one is.”

“Play it for me?” he murmured, settling hishands on her shoulders.

She inserted the scroll and wound the boxbefore turning to him as Strauss’s waltz Snowdrops orSchneeglöckchen softly filled the room. She hadn’t realizedthat it was so dark in the music room, with only one oil lamp leftby the servants to light the room. Ian was cast in shadows, makingit impossible to read his expression, but his deep brogue wasthick. “I owe you a waltz in the moonlight, I believe.”

“It’s raining,” she pointed out.

“Does it matter?”

Her head was already shaking before Hero hada chance to respond. “No.”

Ian took her hand and led her with a twirl tothe center of the small room. Placing his other hand at her waist,he began to move her in a languid waltz. Hero followed his lead,her hand lightly on his shoulder, the other on his forearm as hebent over her. “How is it that Shakespeare’s Claudio referred tohis Hero?” he whispered in his seductive brogue as he moved againsther. “Sweet? Lovely?”

“Fair, I think,” Hero said.

“Merely fair?” he asked. “That would not doat all for you, I think.”

“Am I not?” Her hand drifted up his shoulderuntil she was able to run her forefinger along the edge of hiscollar. His eyes locked with hers and his nostrils flared at thesubtle contact.

“You are much more,” he murmured, his ownhand rising from her waist until he brushed the underside of herbreast with his thumb and Hero’s breath caught. “You, Hero, are somuch more than fair.”

“Very sweet words,” Hero responded, lifting afinger to brush against his earlobe. “Very quixotic.”

Ian frowned. “Yet you seem oddly disappointedby them.”

“Not disappointed,” Hero countered. Merelyimpatient.

“Do women not desire sweet nothings andromance any longer?”

“I desire you,” Hero said then bit her lip.She couldn’t imagine where those words had come from unless theyrose from deep within her. Not that they weren’t true. They were.They were also boldly forward. “My apologies. I didn’t mean …”

Stopping in midstride, Ian’s hand tightenedon her ribcage. “You don’t desire me?”

“No,” Hero stuttered, shaking her head. “Imean, I do. It’s just so … What are you waiting for, Ian?”

Hero bit her lip once again. Now thatwas bold. She could feel a flush flooding her cheeks.

“You might need to explain that to question,”Ian finally said tightly in a tone that sent Hero’s alreadyfluttering nerves soaring. She tried to step out of his arms but heheld her tight.

“Oh, dear.” Hero looked down, to the side.Anywhere but at Ian. She hadn’t meant to say anything and this wasthe reason why. She had no experience in seduction. No practiceluring men to her bed. “You—you’ve been most charming thisweek.”

“Charming?” he repeated with raisedbrows.

“Yes,” she nodded. “And—and I’ve … enjoyedour evenings together very much. I simply wonder if perhaps I mighthave misinterpreted your intentions.”

“My intentions?” he parroted incredulously,his brogue becoming nearly incomprehensible. “Are ye not aware ofmy intentions, lass?”

“Well, I thought after what Papa said theother night that you felt as I did,” Hero stammered nervously.“That notion of living for the moment. Embracing opportunity.”

“Carpe diem?” Ian