My Heart Stood Still Lynn Kurland (some good books to read TXT) 📖

he was planning a trip to the city. Not Edinburgh. Heaven only knew what Iolanthe would think of that. No, he was taking a little jaunt to Jedburgh, the closest metropolis with reputedly enough shopping to keep anyone happy for awhile.

Shopping, yes, that was the ticket. He'd never met a woman who couldn't be soothed, placated, or distracted by shopping. He'd learned the principle at his father's knee while watching his father soothe, placate, and distract a wife and three daughters. Surely Iolanthe could be soothed, placated, and distracted the same way.

Then again Iolanthe was neither his sister nor his mother, nor like any other woman he'd ever met.

And she wasn't overly eager to get in his car.

Which left him wondering again about the wisdom of his plan.

Then there was the other complication. He'd called his parents the night before just to let them know he was back safely from his little jaunt to his falsified destination. They hadn't been at home. As unsettling as that was, a call to his sister Megan had revealed that his parents were staying at her house in London and were currently out at the theater.

This was not good news. The very last thing he needed was his dad complicating the mix. Well, there was nothing to be done except hope his mom and dad would stay put until Iolanthe had gotten used to her surroundings.

But given the way she was sizing up his rental car, he suspected that getting used to her surroundings wouldn't happen any time soon.

Thomas opened the car door and smiled encouragingly. His car was still at Jamie's castle, and taking Mrs. Pruitt's tiny Mini hadn't been an option. Neither he nor Iolanthe would have fit, and he suspected that she would feel claustrophobic enough as it was.

"To the city?" she asked doubtfully.

"It's a little city. Queen Mary stayed there with the flu once, I think. It's a great place."

"Queen Mary?"

"Um," he said, wondering if he could actually go two hours in a row without putting his foot into his mouth, "Queen Mary came along a few years after Robert the Bruce. I'll tell you about her sometime."

"Hmmm."

"You need clothes," he said, hoping a change of topic would get him out of trouble.

"Then call in a seamstress."

"And shoes," he continued. "And other girl things. The city's not very far."

"So you say."

"I think there's an abbey there, too," he added. "You'll love it."

She looked completely unconvinced, and he had no idea how to motivate her. He supposed he could have gone shopping by himself, but he wasn't ready to let her out of his sight yet. He suspected that if he left his keys out and his back turned, she'd be in the car and on her way home before he knew it. Either that or she'd take her horse and be on her way. He knew he'd have to take her home soon, but he also knew that when he did so, he wouldn't have her alone for a good long time. Best he have her to himself while he could.

"We could go to Artane tomorrow," he offered. "If the driving today sits well with you."

She chewed on that for a minute or two.

"Jedburgh today," she agreed grudgingly. "But do not make the car go too fast."

"I'll try not to."

He got her into the car, got her buckled up, and down the driveway without her losing it. The road to the village was touch and go. She was closing her eyes and praying out loud.

And he wasn't even doing twenty.

"A little faster now," he said, turning onto a bigger road.

"The saints preserve me."

"Well, that's always a good sentiment," he said as he reminded himself that it would behoove him to drive on the left. Things were definitely easier with a horse and no dividing lines.

An hour and several prayers later, they had reached their destination. Jedburgh was as cute as Mrs. Pruitt had advertised and boasted shops enough for his purposes. He parked, sat back, and sighed deeply. He turned to Iolanthe.

"Made it."

"The saints be praised," she said, peeling her fingers from the armrest. "I hope this is worth that torture."

"So do I," he said with a smile, then crawled out of the car and came around to get her.

He pointed her toward a likely clothing shop and turned her loose inside it. She wandered around for a few minutes, touching things with what he thought might have been reverence—or complete disgust.

Then she turned to look at him.

"These?" she hissed, tugging on a pair of jeans. "I'm to wear these?"

Okay, strike one.

"I wear them," he offered.

"You're a man."

She had a point. He shrugged with a smile. "You don't have to. They have dresses, too. See, over there?"

She approached the dresses with all the enthusiasm of a woman contemplating picking up a dead rat. It took her a moment or two to figure out how to get the hanger off the rack, but once she had, she held the dress up to her and gasped at the length.

"This?" she said, looking scandalized. "So short?"

It hit her well below the knees. Thomas decided that perhaps he would do well never to show her a miniskirt. Maybe it was time to take a break from shopping.

"How about lunch?" he asked.

"We just broke our fast not two hours ago."

"All the more reason to get something else to eat. I saw a little tea shop down the street. It's close."

She hung the dress back up with a look of distaste, then stomped out of the store beside him, her face set in lines of extreme disapproval.

He decided that perhaps silence was the better part of valor at the moment.

He took her to the tea shop, saw her seated, then sat down across from her. He'd chosen a table near the window, and he pulled back the curtain for good measure. He watched her watch the passersby, then watched the wheels begin to turn in her head. Thomas looked up as the waitress came to give