Much Ado In the Moonlight Read Online Free PDF

sort from her own life to draw on.
    She sincerely hoped that would change very soon.
    “I have,” she said to the empty room, “spent too long in this house.”
    She plopped herself down on the window seat and pushed open the window. It was still bitterly cold, but maybe the chill would distract her from her restlessness. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the waves rolling in against the shore. It was no wonder Thomas loved his house so much. Even she might be tempted to trade in the traffic noise of Manhattan for this kind of peace.
    Then she frowned. There was something more weaving through the wind than just the sound of the ocean. It sounded like music.
    Bagpipe music.
    Victoria pressed her ear against the screen and strained to listen more closely. Yes, there was no doubt about it. That was definitely bagpipe music. Had Thomas been importing some of Iolanthe’s cousins in from Scotland to serenade him? Did Iolanthe have cousins? There was a cloud of mystery surrounding Thomas’s wife that she certainly hadn’t been able to penetrate. Thomas had promised to tell her all the year before, but he’d seemingly thought better of it . . .
    A soft knock sounded, making Victoria jump in spite of herself. Too much imagined bagpiping had obviously started to get to her.
    “Come in,” she said, sitting up straight and mentally girding on her armor for battle on the off chance it was Thomas, come to chuckle one more time.
    But it wasn’t Thomas who poked his head inside the door; it was Iolanthe.
    “Oh,” Victoria said, surprised. “Well. Come in.”
    Iolanthe came inside the chamber, a little uncomfortably to Victoria’s eye.
    “I didn’t mean to disturb ye,” she said hesitantly.
    “You didn’t,” Victoria said honestly. “I could use the distraction from my idle thoughts.”
    Iolanthe came across the room and perched on the seat. “Victoria,” she said slowly, “I know we haven’t had much time to get to know one another and mayhap this is an untoward offer . . . but if ye find yourself in need of aid whilst you’re in England, I would be pleased to give it to you.”
    Victoria blinked. “Aid?” she echoed. “Why would I need it?”
    Iolanthe shrugged. “Who’s to say? There have been times in my own poor life when I could have used the company of a sister.” She smiled. “The offer stands, if it suits ye.”
    And with that, she stood, bid Victoria good-night, and left the room.
    Victoria stared at the closed door. Aid? What kind of aid? Why did she have the feeling it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill, there’s-the-first-aid-box-for-Band-Aids kind of aid?
    She sat there with bagpipe music wafting in the window, and shivered.
    She really had to get out of Thomas’s house before she lost her mind. If she could have, she would have grabbed her suitcase and bolted from the house right then. But that might have tipped any number of family members off to just how weird she was beginning to think this whole gig in England was, and that she couldn’t have.
    No, she would get herself ready for bed, get in, pull up the covers, and force herself to sleep.
    Then she would get up and run like hell the next day, instead of waiting for Monday, and get herself back to the world she knew and understood, where people looked up to her and didn’t dare question her, where she could arrange things exactly the way she liked and watch them be carried off in the same manner. Yes, the theater was the place for her. The script was already written and there was no mystery as to the manner in which the ending was reached.
    A particularly poignant bit of music swept through the window and came close to bringing tears to her eyes. Fortunately, she was made of sterner stuff than that, and had no trouble slamming the window shut, hauling together the curtains, and stomping over to the bathroom.
    Bagpipe music.
    It was enough to make her wonder if Thomas’s house wasn’t haunted. Iolanthe was certainly