Her eyes grew wide for a moment. “Aye, my lord, I would like that very much indeed.”
The younger siblings scattered about playing with their wooden swords again as Alexander offered his arm to Marion.
Her small hand clung to his arm lightly, but the sensation of it still brought a warmth that spread through him. If they were to spend the next days under the same roof, he would have to be sure they could do so cordially and without awkwardness. He didn’t want that for either of them.
“I was quite surprised and pleased to see you earlier, Lady Marion, for I was not aware you were the friend the queen intended to bring.”
“I apologize for that,” she said. “I had asked her majesty to share that information, but she assured me ’twas not necessary.”
“’Tis of no matter. You are here now, and we shall make the most of it.”
Chapter Ten
What in heaven’sname did he mean by that? And why did everything he said need interpretation? She needn’t dwell on it long, for as soon as they entered the library, her attentions were duly captivated elsewhere. Not an overly large room, and nowhere near the volumes possessed by the king, still his library was beautifully structured with dark polished wooden shelves, some of which contained leather-bound books while a good many others were filled with scrolls of various thickness.
Along one whole wall was a large arched window looking out over the gardens and the loch beyond. She envisioned she could spend many happy days in this room exploring the material here. She’d only had some exposure to the written word, but at the king’s behest, it was not considered fashionable to keep volumes of legends and knowledge in one’s home.
Besides a beautifully crafted copy of the Bible, Marion had only ever seen a collection of Chaucer’s works andThe Book of the City of Ladiesby Christine de Pizan. She concentrated on the understanding written word provided versus spoken and found she much preferred it.
Stroking her hand along the beautiful shelves, she started a little when his deep voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Do you approve, Lady Marion?”
She turned to him and hoped her expression conveyed just howmuch she did approve. Before she could say so, he closed the distance between them and reached high above her to select something. It was only for a second, but the sight of his massive chest in front of her sent all sorts of mad visions into her mind’s eye. A bare chest in the courtyard, feeling muscles flexing beneath her hands, the masterful way he moved their bodies around the dance floor.
“Lady Marion, are you unwell?” he asked.
The heat that had quickly risen to her cheeks told her that her thoughts translated to dangerous transparency.
“Aye, my lord, I am very well,” she said. “Tell me what you have there,” she said, hoping to change the subject.
He gave her a quizzical look then drew her to a table with high-backed chairs, drawing one out for her.
“These have been in my family for many years,” he said as he placed three leather-bound books before her. “They contain some of the stories of our clan and this region which were transcribed by a monk from Iona who had decided his life’s journey was to take him away from that place’s sad history. He stayed with my grandfather for many years learning of this place and its histories and mysteries. During his time here, he transcribed some of them as a thank you. As you can see,” he said as he opened one of the manuscripts to the first page, “his work was exquisite. ’Tis written in old Scots and Gaelic, but I have learned most of it along the way and am hoping if the king’s commission works, I shall have this copied for safekeeping.”
The work was incredible. Some pages contained flowing lettering while others contained illustrated depictions of beautiful maidens, fairies, and even sea serpents. This was the sort of volume that interested her.
She looked at him and asked, “My lord, what is the commission you speak of?”
Alexander explained that the king wanted a printing press established in Scotland for all its great works to be copied and made widelyavailable not only to the nobles, but to commonfolk as well. It was some sort of device that would allow paper to be placed over inked letters and then dried, over and over until all the pages in a book could be cut, sorted, and bound.
Marion could hardly wrap her mind around it and the man before her who, without all the chaos at the palace, was much more at ease in this setting, and if she were to be brutally truthful to herself, so was she.
“I confess, I could spend much time in this room with all these stories to explore,” she said, her mind thinking of far off lands, but perfectly content in the place she was and the company she currently kept.
“Aye, ’tis my favorite room in the castle as well. In fact, Lady Marion,” he said as if an idea had just come to him, “when I was a wee lad, my father would invite an elder from the village just beyond those hills who would come to recite these stories to us and then give us their meaning. He still spoke old Scots and Gaelic and would keep us entertained for hours. Would you like that?”
The tone in his voice when he spoke of the man and the far off time was so compelling she could not help but watch his mouth as he spoke. His eyes grew darker when she replied, “Aye, I would like that, my lord.”
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Servants had been coming and going throughout the afternoon to stoke the fire or set aside libations on a side table, but at this moment, the library was empty save for the two of them.
Seated together and turned toward one another staring hard at the other, Marion was unsure what to do next. In the same way as at the palace, she became transfixed with him, unable to tear her gaze away.
Alexander leaned toward her, and she did the same. “Marion,” he whispered and cupped her face with his hands, stroking her lips with his thumbs. Seconds later, he did so with his lips, sending shivers through her.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “Come, let us sit by the hearth.” He drew her to standing and, taking her hand, led her to the hearth which provided warmth she didn’t really need.
“Nay, my lord. I am quite warm,” she said, which drew his gaze onto hers.
