“Who in God’s name is that?”
He stared at the ceiling as another cluster of notes followed, worse than the first, cutting through everything. There was only one person in this castle reckless enough to play the piano that badly.
“Ava,” he muttered.
A third attempt rang out, this time with a pause in the middle, as if she had stopped to consider whether the instrument was broken or merely bad.
Ciaran put the cup down very carefully.
He ought to have stayed where he was. He had enough work. He had spent the whole evening proving to himself that going to her was exactly what he should stop doing. Then she struck the same wrong note three times in a row, each one more certain than the last, and the sound reverberated through the study like a challenge.
He was moving before the last one died down.
The door flew open under his hand. The passageway beyond lay dim and quiet, and somewhere above him came another dreadful attempt at playing. Somehow, no matter how hard he tried to avoid her, Ava had found yet another way to drag him back toward her.
And once again, he went.
CHAPTER 25
The first notehit badly enough that Ava stopped in the corridor and stared upward.
The second was worse.
By the third, she knew two things with certainty: someone was in Ciaran’s tower, and whoever it was had no business touching a piano.
She gathered her skirts and hurried up the stairs, already half-annoyed and half-curious. The sound that met her as she climbed made the whole thing harder to believe. It was not music. It was an assault. A heavy strike, then a pause, then another cluster of notes that landed in no sensible relation to each other at all.
“Bruce,” she muttered under her breath. “If that is ye, I swear I shall sell ye to a monastery.”
Another wrong note rang out.
By the time she reached the tower door, she was almost laughing with sheer disbelief. She pushed it open and found exactly the disaster she deserved for not catching him sooner.
Bruce stood on the piano. All four paws were planted on the keys with full confidence. His little body was stiff with indignation, and his ears were perked up. One paw struck again as she came in, producing a sound so offensive that she stopped short and put a hand over her mouth.
“Bruce.”
He barked at her, then at the room itself, then stamped once more on the keys as if defending his position.
Ava crossed toward him at once.“I kent ye were up to nay good. That is exactly why I came looking for ye.”
Bruce answered with a low growl meant to sound formidable. It did not. He was too small, too dusty, and too pleased with himself.
“What do ye think ye are doing?” Ava demanded. “This isnae yer instrument.”
He struck another key with his front paw and looked directly at her, as if the point were under debate.
A laugh sounded behind her, and she froze.
She had felt him before she heard him. The tower had become one of those rooms where her body knew he was present before her mind caught up. Even so, the sound of his amusement moved through her with a quick, foolish warmth she had not expected.
She turned anyway.
Ciaran stood near the door with his arms folded, looking at Bruce with a composure that would have been more convincing if a laugh had not just escaped him.
“Ye find this funny?” Ava asked.
“Aye.”
