One Magic Moment(50)
Author: Lynn Kurland

“You’ve been watching too many movies,” she said breathlessly.

 

“A good driving school,” he corrected dryly, then pulled the car over and waited.

 

She realized they were now facing the way they’d come. The little brown Ford seemed to realize the jig was up because it executed a rather poor three-point turn in the middle of the street and sped back off the other way.

 

“Told you,” she managed. “Babes in bodices trying to figure out where you live so they can come ogle you.”

 

He only tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the steering wheel, then looked at her. “I should have looked in your car park the night of that large party.”

 

“It could have been Bill the Brainless.”

 

“I don’t think he could have fit under the wheel of that thing,” John said. He studied the road for another minute or two. “How many more events do you have this week?

 

“A family reunion tonight,” she said, “but nothing for the rest of the weekend, but that’s on purpose.” She paused. “I have plans.”

 

He stopped tapping. “Plans?”

 

“A non-date with Lord Haulton,” she said. “There is, if you can believe it, a Regency-style house party at Payneswick. Stephen has been dragging me to it for five years now. I think he enjoys doing a Mr. Darcy impression.”

 

He looked at her, then. “And you?”

 

“I enjoy trying to get into Lord Payneswick’s library.”

 

John smiled briefly. “A priceless medieval text?”

 

“More than one, actually.” She hesitated. “I don’t suppose you would want to come along.”

 

He studied her. “You couldn’t possibly be asking me out on a date, Dr. Alexander, could you?”

 

“What would you say if I were?”

 

He considered. She could see the wheels turning and imagined all that turning had a great deal to do with Stephen de Piaget. To be cooped up in close quarters with the man for an extended period of time might be just more than he could take.

 

He finally just frowned, put the car in gear, and drove on. She didn’t press him. He was probably figuring out a good way to tell her no, which she supposed was for the best. They had seen more of each other over the past week than he’d wanted to or was good for her heart. A little break might be just the thing.

 

He was silent as he drove her home, silent as he fetched her out of the car, and still silent as he walked her across the drawbridge and up the steps to her front door. He opened it for her, looked inside, then stood aside to let her pass by.

 

She turned to look at him. “Well?”

 

He dragged his hand through his hair, then sighed. “I think it best I don’t go.”

 

“All right.” She honestly would have been more surprised if he’d said yes. And after all, the world wasn’t going to end before she saw him again the following week. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

 

“Nay, you won’t,” he said, “because I don’t want you to go, either.”

 

She blinked. “What?”

 

He chewed on his words for a minute. “That car was following us.”

 

“It was following you.”

 

“I don’t know that’s the case and until I’m sure, I want you tucked inside your castle with the doors locked where I know you’re safe.”

 

She would have smiled in disbelief, but she knew he wasn’t kidding. And she was also absolutely sure that he wasn’t telling her everything he knew and until he did, she was under no obligation to be not only herded but penned. Besides, she had the feeling this was her year to get into Lord Payneswick’s private books. Stephen had been sucking up to the man all year long with that end in sight. She wasn’t about to pass on the opportunity to be there.

 

“I appreciate the concern,” she said honestly, “but Stephen has already paid for my ticket, as well as one for Peaches. We’ll both be fine.”

 

John was not a happy camper, that much she could say. She wondered, absently, what Montgomery would have done in his place. Probably drawn his sword and prodded Pippa back inside the hall with it. Poor John only had frowns to use, which he did without hesitation.

 

“Is Haulton coming to fetch you?” he asked curtly.

 

“What difference does that make?”

 

“It makes a great deal of difference,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Now, is he coming to fetch you, or must I call him and insist that he does?”

 

“I think he’s been at Artane this week,” she said, finding that it wasn’t all that difficult all of a sudden to dredge up a brisk tone of her own, “digging through artifacts for a paper he’s working on. Peaches and I are driving north to meet him, and no, you absolutely can’t call him and order him around like you do me.”

 

He folded his arms over his chest, apparently the ultimate de Piaget pose of intimidation. “I don’t like this.”

 

“I don’t care what you like,” she said before she thought better of it.

 

The unfortunate truth was, she did care. It mattered to her quite a bit that he was concerned about her.

 

A bit more than she was comfortable with, actually.

 

“In spite of that,” he said, looking as if he were making great efforts to be polite, “I would prefer that you remain here.”

 

“And I would prefer that you stop telling me what to do.”

 

He pursed his lips, then made her a low bow. “As my lady wishes,” he said coolly.

 

“French again, John,” she pointed out.

 

He glared at her, then turned and walked down her steps. He stopped on the courtyard floor, then turned and looked up at her. “Lock the door.”

 

“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” she said incredulously.

 

“Lock the bloody door, Tess,” he growled.

 

She started to slam it shut, then she paused and looked out the door at him. “Are we having a fight?”

 

“I believe so.”

 

“Is it going well?”

 

He swore. Then he took a deep breath and cursed a bit more. He walked up the steps, pulled her into his arms, and clutched her to him.