Part 11 (1/2)

”Five pounds, my lord.”

Ewan didn't even quibble. He pulled the money out and handed it over to the peddler. ”Have you extra strings?”

”Aye, my lord.”

”I'll a take two sets of those.”

Her heart hammered at his kindness. Why would he gift her with such a thing? He barely knew her, and she had forced herself rather rudely into his life.

He should hate her for what she'd done to him.

Instead he gave her a present. One she had pined for every day since her father had destroyed her original lute.

Once Ewan had paid the peddler for the strings, the man took his leave of them.

Nora stood in the center of the road, looking up at Ewan in awe. At that moment, he was the sweetest man she'd ever known.

She wanted to weep from her happiness and grat.i.tude that he had bought this for her.

It was all she could do not to kiss him for it.

”Why did you purchase this for me?” she asked, her voice filled with her joyful tears.

Ewan swallowed at her question. He still wasn't sure why he had done it. Other than that the look on her face when she had seen it had struck him in the gut like a fist. It was obvious that the cheap lute would bring her untold hours of happiness, and for some reason that didn't bear pondering, the thought of her being happy made his day brighter.

Unable to speak a word of that, he shrugged and headed back toward his horse.

”Wait!”

He turned at her call.

”Can we not stop for a bit and you show me how to play it? Just a little?”

”Nora, we've still got-”

Her face fell.

So did his stomach.

”Very well,” he relented. What was a few more minutes when added on to the others they had already wasted?

Besides, he rather liked traveling with her. She was a fetching maid and did distract him from the past.

At least for a bit.

She bestowed a smile at him that dazzled his senses.

She rushed toward a fallen log and took a seat on it while he grabbed the horses' reins and led them to an area where they could rest and graze.

Nora sat with the lute in her lap, held at an awkward angle. Seeking to correct her, Ewan put his arms around her to show her how to hold it and was immediately a.s.sailed with the fresh, sweet scent of her blond hair. With the softness of her hands on his. With the way she felt like heaven in his arms.

Deep-seated need tore through him, making him so hard for her that he ached with it. He breathed in her scent, letting it wash over him as her hands touched his.

Och, but the woman felt too good in his embrace.

And she had tasted even better...

Nora was all too aware of Ewan's arms around her. Of his breath falling against her neck.

Of the way his strong hands led hers to the frets and strings to show her how to play.

She savored the warmth of him as dreams of her fict.i.tious courtier evaporated. Gone was the image of her blond minstrel, and in his place, she saw only the face of a man with tormented blue eyes.

A man who could make beautiful music with his hands.

Ewan clenched his teeth as he fought the urge to bury his face into the crook of her neck. He lost all track of time as he sat there with her practically in his lap, as he ran her hands through a series of chords to teach her an easy song.

”Do you know the words to the song?” she asked.

”I do.”

”Will you teach me that too?”

”Nay, Nora. You've no wish to hear me sing, I a.s.sure you. I've been told a frog's hoa.r.s.e croak is infinitely superior to my bellowing.”

”I don't believe it. I wish to hear you sing.”

Ewan cringed at the idea. He'd spent far too many years with his brothers' brutal mockery to have any delusions about his talent.

But as he stared at her and the expectant look she held, Ewan couldn't resist her plea. ”Only if you swear not to laugh at me.”

Nora looked up over her shoulder to see the sincerity in his eyes. Who would have thought a man like him would be afraid of someone mocking him?

Who would even dare? Better to mock the devil than a man like Ewan MacAllister.

”I promise not to laugh.”

He sang a few words and quickly proved that he was right. He sounded dreadful.

But she didn't laugh.

She only smiled at him until she'd learned enough of the song to sing it herself.

”You have a lovely voice, my lady,” he said, his tone gentle and tender.

She couldn't remember the last time a compliment had warmed her so much. ”Thank you.”

Ewan listened to her and let the sound of her voice soothe him.