Blue Bells of Scotland: Book One of the Blue Bells Trilogy by Laura Vosika Read Free Book Online Page A

wiggled up to a sitting position, drawing the bed sheets and her knees demurely to her chest. "They were saying a couple of days ago that you were talking Gaelic with a Scotsman," she said. "Is it true?"
    "Och, o' coorse it's true," Shawn said, rolling his R's. "And I've got all sorts o' talents ye've only just started to see, wee lahssie! What else will I shoo ye?" He grabbed at her sheets. The motion made his head spin again. He laughed, his face flushed.
    "Stop it!" She giggled, pounding his chest. "Come on, I'm serious. I want to get to know you better. I mean, here we are...." she fluttered her eyelashes at him and blushed a dainty blush.
    "You got to know me pretty well last night." Shawn growled, burying his face in her breasts and pulling more giggles out of her. "What more could you want?"
    "I mean it!" she insisted, pushing his head away. "I want to know you. That's not the same as sleeping together. You really speak Gaelic? You're not pulling my leg?"
    "That's not what I'd do with your leg." Shawn lifted three fingers. "Scout's honor."
    She giggled. "You a boy scout! Hardly! How do you know Gaelic?"
    "It's not that interesting," he said, lying back on the bed. The pounding in his head kicked up a notch. "Not as interesting as other things we could be doing." He cocked an eyebrow at her. She waited. "Okay, if you really want to know, my grandmother grew up on Skye. She met my grandfather during the war, married him, and came over. My father grew up speaking both Gaelic and English, and he spoke it in our house. And he was also big into the re-enacting thing. A Scottish unit, of course. He used to take me with him. Most of them in the unit spoke it fluently."
    She laughed. "You wore a kilt? Tell the truth: what's under them?"
    He wiggled wicked eyebrows at her, and lifted the bed sheet. "I only know what's under mine. Come and see!"
    She squealed at his wit, daring a peek and professing delight. "Is that why you wanted the orchestra to come to Scotland?"
    "To show you that? Na, I could have done that at home."
    She punched him. "Because of your family connection."
    "Yeah, the family history thing's cool," Shawn said. "It was also convenient. I grew up playing the music we're doing. We did it in the re-enactment camps all the time."
    "You played trombone in a re-enactment camp?"
    He smiled. The feeling of putting on a show lifted momentarily. Remembering those camps gave him a brief happiness. "No. They didn't bring trombones into battle. I messed around with harps and fifes and things."
    "Tell me about your father," she said. "You never talk about him."
    Shawn turned away, rubbing his throbbing temples. "He died when I was in high school."
    "I'm sorry." Her hands crept onto his shoulders; her breath brushed his neck. "Was he a lot like you?"
    "His looks—those Scottish genes run strong. I'm his clone."
    "Personality," she said. "Was he like you?"
    Shawn snorted. "Nothing like me. He was a nice guy, and I can tell you, they do finish last." He sat up abruptly. He didn't want to have this conversation with Caroline. He wanted Amy. "Not much else to say. But mostly," he added with a roguish grin, changing the subject back, "I brought the orchestra here because I heard such good things about the women." He grabbed at her again, scattering more bills to the plush carpet. This time, she let him. His head pounded mercilessly. But it stopped her questions.

    Glenmirril Castle, Scotland, 1314

    The Laird straightened on his bench, stretching the kinks out of his back. If the dungeon had allowed any light in, he'd be seeing the sun reach over the mountains east of the loch. Dawn came early in June. As it was, he saw the same smoky shadows flickering on the same dusky stone and earth walls that he'd seen all night. He set the drill down, and contemplated how to move the items out without being seen. He twisted his neck this way and that, easing sore muscles. Finally, he rested his eyes on the completed projects. He smiled