Some Enchanted Waltz by Lily Silver Read Free Book Online Page B

with confusion.  You must be kidding me?  Seriously--Milord?   What was this, an episode of Masterpiece Theater?
    “Forgive Cora.” The enchanting stranger said. “Her tongue is as sharp as an adder’s. She means no disrespect to you or your kind.” He remained at the foot of the bed, observing her with a fascination she found thrilling and a little bit eerie.
    My kind? What did that mean, precisely ? Tourist? Grad Student? American?
    Tara studied him. He looked like a movie star or a cover model for a romance novel; tall, muscular, with an aura of authority and determination. He had jet black hair that swirled about his head in lush waves like an elegant swathe, sort of like Dr. McDreamy on that popular medical TV series. It was longer in the back, secured with a black bow, a queue, she realized, as the term came to her easily. Men wore longer hair tied back with black ribbons in the 18th century, she knew that, too, as if by rote.
    Damn, where did all this knowledge come from, when she couldn’t even remember her own name or where she came from? Did she know this dude?
    She gazed into his alluring, steel gray eyes. Nothing. Not a clue.
    “I am Viscount Dillon. You may call me Adrian.” He sat down on the bed beside her as he said in a quiet, reverent tone, “I know you were sent to me by Tuath an Danaan . Our destinies are entwined. I am pleased to honor the old promise by sheltering you in my home and protecting you from the schemes of mortal men. And I am honored, Dear Tara, that you have agreed to come here to be my fairy bride.”
    *   *   *
    The darkness lessened as a cool, wet feeling intruded upon it. Tara’s eyes focused on the dark figure hovering over her beyond the gray mists. There it was again, that cold pressure on her cheeks and forehead. She turned her head, pushing it back, turning away from the cold reality of pain, seeking the relief that came only in the oblivion of sleep.
    “Tara?” The chilled sensation persisted on her face. “Sweet Tara?”
    She opened her eyes to face the bold intruder to her bed. It was him, that man who plagued her with endless questions, the handsome man with smoldering gray eyes.
    “You are safe here, I swear it. I would give my life to protect you.”   
    Whoa. That was deep and poetic. Tara stared at this would be rescuer. She had a thousand questions, yet, she couldn’t speak well enough to ask them, and part of her dreaded the answers that would come.
    “I told everyone you are from America.” He went on, seeming to think that she understood his odd ramblings. “That way, no one will question your peculiar fey ways.”  
    I definitely fell down the Rabbit Hole. Yes, Johnny Depp!   Bring him on.
    At that thought, she giggled, amused at the thought of meeting Depp’s quirky Mad Hatter character--or just plain meeting Mr. Depp, period!  
    Mr. Dillon assumed she was giggling at his words and grinned conspiratorially.
    As they sat silently staring at one another, she slowly became aware of an unfamiliar, unpleasant odor. She sniffed, and then realized too late her rudeness, as it was the pungent smell of the barn clinging to his clothing.
    “Yes, I came directly from the stables.” He said, noting her amazement at his odd dress. “I didn’t take the time to change. I couldn’t wait to see you when Cora told me you were awake and trying to talk.” 
    “S-sorr—re” She warbled, fearing she’d offended him by drawing notice to the smell of the farmyard on his clothing. She had to be careful, if she offended this man, he might toss her out in the cold. With no money or even a rational memory to speak of, it was best to play along with his delusion until she could figure things out a little better.
    “Sore, yes I imagine you are very uncomfortable after all you’ve come through.”
    Tara huffed with impatience. Must everything be lost in translation? She wished she could have a pen and some paper, so she might convey her thoughts with more