One Magic Moment(40)
Author: Lynn Kurland

 

She wasn’t going to let the possibility of that stop her from posing a few more pointed questions while she had him at her mercy.

 

“And?” she prodded.

 

He didn’t look at her. “And what?”

 

“I’m prying into your finances, which are none of my business.”

 

“May I pry as fully into yours?” he asked pleasantly.

 

“I’m an open book, my friend. But let’s read your chapter first.”

 

He blew his hair out of his eyes. “I had a small inheritance from my father.”

 

“Small?”

 

He paused at a traffic light at a roundabout and looked at her crossly. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

 

“To unbalance you?”

 

“Aye.”

 

She had to admit, she was becoming altogether too enamored of the way he slipped into the native tongue when he was flustered. She had the feeling she might pay for that enjoyment someday, but since that day was probably safely in the future, she thought she would enjoy it while she could.

 

“I’m curious by nature.”

 

“It is no doubt what makes you a good scholar,” he said sourly as he pulled out into traffic.

 

“No doubt.”

 

He passed a pair of cars, swore at them instead of doing what he no doubt wanted to do which was swear at her, then dragged his free hand through his hair. “Very well, it wasn’t a small inheritance and when I converted—I mean, invested it, it turned into a staggering amount of sterling that I’ve stashed cunningly in Switzerland.”

 

“I love Switzerland,” she said with a happy sigh.

 

“So does my banker.”

 

She smiled. “I imagine so.” She paused. “Are you parents gone, then?”

 

He took a deep breath, then nodded.

 

She reached out and covered his hand on the gearshift briefly. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I won’t go there.”

 

He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it just long enough to make her wonder if she would get over it anytime soon, then put her hand back in her lap.

 

“Let’s talk about you and your title instead,” he said, sounding a little hoarse, truth be told.

 

“Let’s talk about you and your lute,” she countered.

 

“Woman, you are relentless—and aye, I know. It comes with the territory.” He shot her a quick scowl. “Curiosity is dangerous, you know.”

 

“What’s the worst that happens?” she asked with a faint smile. “You wouldn’t drop me off on the side of the road, I don’t think.”

 

“I might,” he muttered.

 

“You wouldn’t. You could, I suppose, refuse to talk to me, but I’ve already enjoyed that on that trip back from London. I’d survive it again.”

 

He was silent for a moment or two, then he reached for her hand. He put it palm down on his leg, then covered it with his own. “I was uncomfortable.”

 

“With me?”

 

“Yes.” He looked at her briefly. “I apologize for being impolite.”

 

“You’ve made up for it since.”

 

“Aye, by herding you and bossing you and forcing you to let me lock your doors,” he said with a half smile. “Chivalry at its finest.”

 

“Actually, yes,” she agreed, “it was, and you’re very good at avoiding questions you don’t want to answer.”

 

“I don’t want to answer your questions.”

 

“They aren’t hard questions, John.”

 

He frowned at the car in front of him, then managed to make a production of passing a few cars and a few motorway exits. Tess would have pulled her hand back while he was otherwise occupied with shifting, but he captured it before she could.

 

She was, she could safely say, in the very deepest of trouble.

 

“And?” she prodded after the silence had gone on a little too long for her comfort.

 

He sighed gustily. “My grandmother insisted that I learn the lute. I had lessons. There is all the answer you’re going to have.”

 

She wondered who his grandmother had been and from just whom he’d had lessons. For all she knew, it had been someone famous. He certainly played well enough for that to be the case.

 

“Will you play for me again?” she asked.

 

“The guitar?”

 

She shook her head. “No, the lute.”

 

“For your guests tonight?” he asked.

 

“No,” she said quietly, “some other night. Just for me.”

 

He swore as he came near to rear-ending someone in front of him. He said nothing more until they had driven up the very small road to the car park and he had managed to get them safely stopped. He turned off his car, then took her hand in both his own and looked down at it for a moment or two in silence. Then he looked at her.

 

“If you like,” he said.

 

“I like.”

 

“I can play modern music as well, if you’d rather.”

 

She considered. “I don’t mind the occasional art song, or perhaps even the odd madrigal.” She smiled. “I like medieval music best.”

 

He leaned back against the door. “With all the music that came afterward, you settle for that?”

 

“Surprisingly enough, yes, but I’ll happily enjoy whatever inspires you. Next week, when we see each other again.”

 

“I’m not sure we’ll make it to next week.”

 

“It would be more prudent that way.”

 

“Prudence be damned.”

 

She fanned herself with her other hand. “A little warm in here, isn’t it?”

 

He smiled a little, released her hand, then put his hand on the door. “I’ll get your door for you.”

 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

 

“As a countess, you shouldn’t.”

 

“That does it—”