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long, though. She wasn't sure when Thomas would return, but she was certain it had to be soon. She wanted to be ready.

She had pressed Mrs. Pruitt into service by having her help with the computer. Megan had left Mrs. Pruitt with detailed instructions on how to get and keep the computer working. Megan had also shown Mrs. Pruitt how to work the magical connection that would feed the computer information from all parts of the globe.

Now, that was something Iolanthe wasn't sure she believed—the world being round, that was. Then again, she wouldn't have believed that little things set out into the sunlight would gather enough of what they needed to power a machine either. So she took the globe business on faith.

And now the reading. Mrs. Pruitt had agreed to give Iolanthe whatever aid she required—for a price. And that price was for Iolanthe to keep Ambrose captive in the sitting chamber long enough for Mrs. Pruitt to talk to him.

Iolanthe supposed a human's aid would be worth whatever it cost her, though Ambrose might have a different opinion. She'd found him soon after Mrs. Pruitt had set forth her terms. He'd balked at first, then relented when Iolanthe had told him what she stood to lose if he refused. He'd agreed with extreme reluctance to a meeting three days hence.

Mrs. Pruitt had told Iolanthe what to do, then departed for her chamber, where she said she planned to prepare her toilette for the upcoming tryst.

Which left Iolanthe in Thomas's office chamber, standing before the computer and commanding the attention of her garrison.

"You, Ian," Iolanthe said, beckoning to one of her men. "Mrs. Pruitt says to push this place here." She pointed to the button Mrs. Pruitt had shown her on the keyboard. "Push this to start my lessons."

Ian pushed manfully and the computer sprang to life.

And Ian fell over in a dead faint.

Iolanthe swore in irritation. "Weak-stomached fool. Move him out of the way, and someone else come to take his place. We'll have many of these things to push today, so the rest of you gather your courage and be about my business with me. Mayhap we'll all learn something."

"Aye, learn what fools we are," Connor grumbled.

Iolanthe looked at him. "Wouldn't you like to know something besides how to scribble out your own name?"

Connor merely scrunched up his face and was silent.

"There's more to life than swordplay."

"Now ye go too far, woman."

"You might read something to improve yours," she shot back.

"My what?" he demanded.

"Your swordplay!"

Connor stomped from the small tower chamber, his curses lingering in the air behind him. Iolanthe looked over her crew.

"Anyone else want to leave?"

Not a soul moved.

Duncan cleared his throat and came closer. "Come on, lads. She has it aright."

"I wish you luck," said the lace-bedecked ghost sprawled in a chair next to the computer's table.

Iolanthe looked at Roderick. "You could help."

"Aye, ye frilly bugger," Duncan said. "Or are ye too good to stir yerself for the likes of us?"

"And what do you care?" Roderick returned lazily. "You already know how to read."

Iolanthe looked at her cousin in surprise. "You do?"

Duncan looked almost embarrassed. "Aye. But that doesn't excuse that Victorian fool from his task here."

Roderick sighed, stretched, and came to stand next to Iolanthe. "I can see my skill is needed. The style of writing on this contraption is horrendous, but I suppose I can make out a word or two. Let's have it begin its lessons, and I'll do what I can."

Iolanthe looked back at the computer's window. "Stephen, push that button there. That's what Mrs. Pruitt said to do."

Her guardsman pushed mightily and the computer continued its work.

"Welcome to Smiley's Adult Reading Course," said the computer, leaving the chamber ringing with various gasps and curses of surprise. "We'll begin with the alphabet."

"Sensible enough," Roderick agreed.

Iolanthe glared him to silence, then turned back with only a minor bit of trepidation to the screen.

"This is the letter A."

"Aaaaee," dutifully echoed all the souls in the chamber.

"That's right," said the computer. "A. Uppercase A. Lowercase a."

"Well," Iolanthe said. 'Two of them."

There was stunned silence.

"Nothing to be done about it," Iolanthe said, putting her shoulders back. "We'll just press on and do the best we can."

But she couldn't deny that she had begun to wonder quite seriously about the advisability of the scheme she had put her hand to.

Fortunately for her, 'twas too late to turn back now. She couldn't shame herself in front of the men. If that pampered puss Roderick could learn to read, then by the saints, so could she.

Because when Thomas came home, she intended to be reading several very difficult things that she might impress him. And then perhaps he wouldn't find the women he'd seen in New York quite so fascinating.

Assuming she could wrest the computer's will to carry out her own desires and master its lessons.

"The letter B," the computer said calmly.

Heaven help her.

Chapter 23

Thomas drove up the lane and turned into the inn's driveway. He'd never been gladder for a sight in his life than that of the little Tudor-beamed inn nestled so securely against the hill. He pulled to a stop, turned off the key, and slouched down in his seat for a few minutes of uninterrupted quiet.

Well, the trip across the Atlantic had been better this time. Business class had definitely made things easier, as had hopping a shuttle up from London to Edinburgh. Driving an hour from the airport to get home was certainly preferable to eight. Of course, getting out of Manhattan and to the airport had been a sticky business, but it wasn't every day that he found himself tailed by a very familiar woman dressed in a trench coat, Vuarnet sunglasses, and a brown fedora covering an enormous red wig.

Tiffany Amber Davidson.

Undercover.

He hadn't noticed her at first. He'd been distracted by his talk with Alexander and Margaret Smith. Alex had called him the following morning to say Jamie was willing to do whatever he could to help; all

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