Read Online Wolf, Joan by Highland Sunset - Free Book Online Page B

and Van followed. "Cattle raising is one of the main occupations of the Highlands, I believe," he said to her over his shoulder.
    "Yes. And we farm as well. The soil is rocky and hard, nothing like what you have here, but we plant corn. We fish. Mother has a huge kitchen garden filled with vegetables."
    She came up alongside him again. "Do you sell your beef to the Lowlands?" he asked.
    "No." Van's voice was cool and reserved. "We do all our trading out of Inverness. To France."
    "Ah," he said very quietly. "Of course. To France."
    The air between them, momentarily thawed by the incident with the dog, was frozen once more.

    The following day they left for the Lintons' house in London. England's capital was the first large city Van had ever seen—Edinburgh was a mere village in comparison—and she was overwhelmed by its magnitude.
    Linton House was a stately, sumptuous residence in the relatively new Grosvenor Square. Lady Linton informed Van that it had been built by her husband ten years previously. All the rooms were large and grand, either perfectly square or perfectly rectangular. Van thought of Creag an Fhithich, where no room resembled any other, and felt a stab of homesickness.
    Edward disappeared for the evening and Van went to bed early, pleading fatigue from the trip. The following morning the earl brought Carlo Martelli to see her.
    Van had dressed for the morning in a dress made of some soft apricot material and her hair was dressed loosely in long ringlets on the nape of her neck. She was running through some practice exercises when Edward arrived with the musician.
    Signore Martelli was a slight, dark man whose large brown eyes regarded Van with an expression of kindly patience. "I have come to hear you," he announced, "because Lord Linton asked this of me. You wish to improve your performance, eh?"
    "I wish to learn to play better," Van said.
    "Prego," the Italian replied. He walked to the harpsichord and looked through the music there. "This." He selected a sheet and placed it on the music rack. "Play that," he said.
    Van swallowed nervously and her eyes went to Edward. He nodded to her once, gravely, and she went to the instrument and sat down. The Italian had chosen a piece by Handel that Van knew quite well.
    At first the keys seemed strange under her fingers. She could feel how stiff her back was and her eyes followed the music in front of her with frantic attention. Gradually, however, the strangeness disappeared and the music took hold.
    When she finished she felt that familiar moment of quiet deep within herself and then she turned around. Edward was not looking at her and Van could not quite bring herself to look at Signore Martelli.
    "Play it again, please," the Italian said, and at that she did look. His eyes were directly on her, only now, instead of patient kindness they were filled with anticipation. "Again," he repeated softly, and Van turned back to the keyboard.
    "You have a very great talent," the musician said when Van had finished her second rendition. "But I must ask you this—are you willing to work?"
    "Oh, yes," Van breathed, her light eyes glowing.
    "I mean work hard." The dark eyes looking at her were stern. "I will make you do it again and again and yet again, until you are ready to weep. Do you understand?"
    Van's chin came up. "Yes," she said firmly. "I understand. And I am willing to work."
    "Very well." The Italian turned to Edward. "I will come tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, my lord."
    "Thank you, maestro," Edward replied. "You do Lady Vanessa a great honor."
    "Yes," the musician returned superbly. Then, "I only come for you. Never did I expect to find this," and he gestured grandly toward Van. He turned to the door and Edward followed to escort him out. "Such a pity," Van heard the Italian saying, "that she is a lady."
    "Why is it a pity that I am a lady?" Van asked Edward when he returned to the drawing room.
    He had not sat down but was standing at the chimneypiece, his