My Heart Stood Still by Lynn Kurland (best book club books of all time .TXT) 📕

wasn't unwelcome. The MacDougal was, as usual, a mystery as far as his motives went, but perhaps he was eternally spoiling for a good fight and thought he'd come to the proper place for it.

Thomas was coming out of the tower, looking very weary. She found herself, quite suddenly, meeting his gaze. He smiled, and she quickly looked down at herself.

He shouldn't have been able to see her.

Maybe he had it aright about seeing so clearly. She'd never known another man who had such a gift. Or a curse. She suspected it might be the latter as Thomas clearly saw the MacDougal sharpening his sword. Perhaps even a mortal blind to those things of the spirit wouldn't have missed hearing the insults Connor spewed forth. She had to admire Thomas's ability to ignore the man. She wished she could have done the same.

She found herself a quiet rock and went to sit upon it. It would have been a lovely thing to sit in the sunshine and be warm, so she pretended she could feel the like. It was a pleasant afternoon at least, with no rain and but a little breeze. It wasn't often that she had the peace to simply sit and look about her. Usually she was mediating some sort of dispute, listening to Roderick babble, or simply brooding her time away. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd merely sat thusly and let her thoughts wander.

Perhaps she had Thomas to thank for that.

The night before had been something of a wonder to her. At first, she'd been bewildered by his interest in her garden. She'd thought that perhaps he'd had one of his own and needed suggestions for plants. That he would be interested in what she was doing simply for interest's sake had been a curious thing indeed. At first, she'd found herself rather uncomfortable talking about her past. But with time, she'd found it perhaps not easy, but possible to think on her memories. Indeed, she'd spent the rest of the night simply staring off over her garden, remembering the things about her life that she'd loved.

Her garden, surely. She'd claimed a little bit for her own and grown what pleased her. She'd tended the whole of it, especially when there was no friar to do the like, but that little patch of her own had been a joy to her.

As had been walking the hills behind her house. No one had ever missed her, save Duncan. She'd caught him keeping watch over her a time or two and eventually convinced him to teach her how to fend for herself. In time, she'd been able to escape alone for a handful of days at a time. Only during the summers, of course, but the peace had been welcome. Duncan had also taught her how to use a knife to protect herself, so she'd never feared for her safety. Besides, she was nothing at her keep. It hadn't occurred to her that someone might want to harm her simply because of who she was.

And that, she had decided sometime during the night, was likely why she hadn't taken the English-man seriously when he'd come to the keep. She'd never suspected that he would want her, whatever the reason. And when he'd taken her away, she'd been too surprised to snatch up any kind of weapon to aid her.

But perhaps the most startling revelation of the night had been that there was a man—albeit a mortal one—who found her interesting enough to ask questions of. She'd given Thomas many opportunities to yawn, stretch, and beg to leave. She'd fully expected him to suddenly announce that he was tired and would be going.

She hadn't expected him to stay well past moonrise.

Stranger still was that she was presently finding the sound of hammers and saws soothing. She leaned back against the wall and listened to the work going on inside the tower. Thomas was driving his lads hard, and for what reason, she couldn't imagine. To her mind, the longer it took him, the longer he would stay.

And that she wanted him to stay was difficult to believe.

Perhaps she should have been wed when she was young, before she'd grown so old that the passing attentions of a completely unsuitable man were enough to bring her to her knees with gratitude.

She looked up to find that same man standing in front of her, smiling down at her. And it was without difficulty that she understood why his attentions had undone her so.

He was, in a word, beautiful.

"May I sit with you?"

"Aye," she managed.

He sat down on a rock next to her and leaned back against the stone wall. "It's a nice day out. Not too hot. Not too cold."

"How lovely."

He smiled at her. "Yes. You are."

She almost wished he wouldn't say things such as that. "I've already given you leave to restore the tower," she said grimly. "You needn't try to flatter me anymore."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

She had no intention of answering that.

"Iolanthe," he said quietly, "I never lie, and I don't exaggerate. And I don't flatter to get what I want."

"Hrmph," she said.

"You're beautiful, a pleasure to talk to, and I can't get you out of my mind whether I'm here or at the inn. So sue me."

"Sue you?"

He smiled briefly. "It's something we say in the States. You would translate it as 'If you don't like it, take me out back and chop off my head.' "

That seemed a little drastic, even to her.

"The MacDougal would be more than happy to help, I'm sure," he added dryly.

"He has a sour disposition," she said. "I wouldn't take much note of him, were I you."

"I'll keep that in mind." He stood up. "I'm going to go get the lads taken care of, then I'll be back. Will you wait for me?"

"Ah ..." she stalled.

"It won't take long."

She meant to tell him that she had things to do, pressing things that didn't allow her