The Very Thought of You - Softcover

PRAISE FOR NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR LYNN KURLAND

“Clearly one of romance’s finest writers.”

—The Oakland Press

“Both powerful and sensitive . . . a wonderfully rich and rewarding book.”

—#1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs

“A sweet, tenderhearted time travel romance.”

—Joyfully Reviewed

“A story on an epic scale . . . Kurland has written another time travel marvel . . . Perfect for those looking for a happily ever after.”

—RT Book Reviews

“[A] triumphant romance.”

—Fresh Fiction

“A perfect blend of medieval intrigue and time travel romance. I was totally enthralled from the beginning to the end.”

—Once Upon a Romance

“Woven with magic, handsome heroes, lovely heroines, oodles of fun, and plenty of romance . . . just plain wonderful.”

—Romance Reviews Today

“Spellbinding and lovely, this is one story readers won’t want to miss.”

—Romance Reader at Heart

“Breathtaking in its magnificent scope.”

—Night Owl Romance

“Sweetly romantic and thoroughly satisfying.”

—Booklist

“A pure delight.”

—Huntress Book Reviews

“A consummate storyteller.”

—ParaNormal Romance Reviews

“A disarming blend of romance, suspense, and heartwarming humor, this book is romantic comedy at its best.”

—Publishers Weekly

“A totally enchanting tale, sensual and breathtaking.”

—Rendezvous

Titles by Lynn Kurland

STARDUST OF YESTERDAY

A DANCE THROUGH TIME

THIS IS ALL I ASK

THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU

ANOTHER CHANCE TO DREAM

THE MORE I SEE YOU

IF I HAD YOU

MY HEART STOOD STILL

FROM THIS MOMENT ON

A GARDEN IN THE RAIN

DREAMS OF STARDUST

MUCH ADO IN THE MOONLIGHT

WHEN I FALL IN LOVE

WITH EVERY BREATH

TILL THERE WAS YOU

ONE ENCHANTED EVENING

ONE MAGIC MOMENT

ALL FOR YOU

ROSES IN MOONLIGHT

The Novels of the Nine Kingdoms

STAR OF THE MORNING

THE MAGE’S DAUGHTER

PRINCESS OF THE SWORD

A TAPESTRY OF SPELLS

SPELLWEAVER

GIFT OF MAGIC

DREAMSPINNER

Anthologies

THE CHRISTMAS CAT

(with Julie Beard, Barbara Bretton, and Jo Beverley)

CHRISTMAS SPIRITS

(with Casey Claybourne, Elizabeth Bevarly, and Jenny Lykins)

VEILS OF TIME

(with Maggie Shayne, Angie Ray, and Ingrid Weaver)

OPPOSITES ATTRACT

(with Elizabeth Bevarly, Emily Carmichael, and Elda Minger)

LOVE CAME JUST IN TIME

A KNIGHT’S VOW

(with Patricia Potter, Deborah Simmons, and Glynnis Campbell)

TAPESTRY

(with Madeline Hunter, Sherrilyn Kenyon, and Karen Marie Moning)

TO WEAVE A WEB OF MAGIC

(with Patricia A. McKillip, Sharon Shinn, and Claire Delacroix)

THE QUEEN IN WINTER

(with Sharon Shinn, Claire Delacroix, and Sarah Monette)

A TIME FOR LOVE

Specials

“TO KISS IN THE SHADOWS” from TAPESTRY

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

The author gratefully and with proper auntlike pride acknowledges the aid of Jana Clara Gardner, a paragon of little girldom, a former toddler of unparalleled cuteness and intelligence, who taught the author most of what she knows about three year olds.

The author is also quite grateful that Jana forgave her for cutting off her “long, pwetty bwown hay-uh,” something the author’s husband has yet to do.

And lastly, but by no means leastly, a hearty thanks must go to the author’s husband who was, despite his insistence on referring to Margaret of Falconberg’s minstrel as “Bardric the Bald,” a veritable font of poetic inspiration.

One

THE HIGHLANDS, SCOTLAND
FEBRUARY 1998

THE HORSE SCRUNCHED UP HIS NOSE, TOSSED HIS HEAD IN obvious discomfort, and then sneezed.

Alexander Smith opened his mouth to curse, then realized the precariousness of his situation. He grasped the top edge of the stall door and very deliberately clamped his lips shut. He blinked furiously to clear his eyes of a substance he didn’t want to examine too closely.

He should have stayed in bed.

He’d known that, of course, from the moment he’d woken. His first clue had been the sound of rain on the roof—day fifty-six of the Scottish deluge. His next warning had been shivering through a cold shower, courtesy of his younger brother. The final straw had been counting on a breakfast of sausage, eggs, and fried potatoes only to find nothing but dangerously aged cottage cheese and on-the-verge-of-turning-green bread in the fridge. By the grease stains on his brother’s chin, Alex had known immediately where to lay the blame.

And now this.

He looked down at his snotty shirt and wondered just how long it would take for it to crust over so he wouldn’t drip all over the house.

His horse, looking much more comfortable and rather contrite, bumped him companionably with his nose.

“Beast, Beast,” Alex said, carefully dragging his sleeve across his mouth, “do you really think I can go out looking like this? What if we run into some beautiful Scottish girl? What kind of impression are we going to make?”

Beast ducked his head in obvious shame.

Alex grunted. “That’s right. Well, have a nice day. I’m sure you will, now you can breathe again. I’m going back to bed.”

It seemed the safest alternative.

He wiped his face with a patch of clean shirttail, then left the stables and walked across the courtyard. The castle rose up before him, an impenetrable wall of gray stone relieved only by a few windows on the second floor. His brother-in-law Jamie had spent a fortune seeing the keep restored and the results were chilling. Alex could almost see medieval Scottish clansmen bursting out the front door in their plaids, brandishing their swords and screaming like banshees.

Alex entered the hall and pulled the door shut behind him with a bang. Once his eyes adjusted to the interior light, he saw his younger brother sitting in front of the hearth, warming his toes by the fire. Alex marched across the great hall, prepared to give the runt a second installment in the berating he’d given him earlier. He didn’t want another Saturday starting out like this—sans hot water and saturated fat.

Zachary glanced up from his book, took one look at Alex, and started to laugh.

“Gggrrrr,” Alex said, wondering if strangling his brother would be half as satisfying as just contemplating it was.

“Good grief,” Zachary gasped out between guffaws. “What’d you have—an encounter with the Blob?”

Alex gritted his teeth. “How’d you like to have an encounter with my fists?”

“Eeuw,” Zachary said with a shudder. “Maybe after you clean up.”

“As if I could,” Alex growled.

“What’s your problem? I had plenty of hot water.”

“I know!”

Zachary only blinked innocently. Then he rubbed his disgustingly well-fed belly. “There’s nothing left in the fridge, you know,” he said.

“And whose fault do you think that is?” Alex demanded.

Zach sighed again, the mournful sigh of a man left home alone with nothing to graze upon. “Man, I hate it when Jamie and Elizabeth go out of town. The least they could have done was leave Patrick or Joshua behind. Josh makes great desserts.” He looked at Alex narrowly. “Why’d I get stuck with just you? You won’t even keep the fridge stocked.”

Alex relived briefly in his mind some of the more choice experiences he’d had pummeling his baby brother. His irritation momentarily soothed by those warm and fuzzy memories, he managed to speak very calmly. “And what’s wrong with you that you can’t go to the store?”

Zach settled himself more comfortably into his chair and moved his toes closer to the fire. “I’m too busy. You go instead. And get something good. None of that health food garbage.”

Alex mentally counted to ten. When that didn’t work, he set his sights on a larger number.

“Oh, and Alex? I’d go shower first if I were you.” He looked at Alex and started to grin again. “Really. I think it would be the right thing to do.”

Alex wanted more than anything to wring his brother’s neck in payment for ruining his Saturday morning and to stop the brat’s giggles. Unfortunately, his shirt was beginning to crust over and he was starting to itch.

“I’ll go to the store later,” he growled, contenting himself with giving Zachary a murderous look and a smart cuff to the ear on his way to the stairs. With any luck there would be hot water by now.

He rummaged around in the armoire for clean clothes, then headed for his bathroom. He was just reaching into the shower for the taps when the phone started to ring. He ignored it and turned on the water. He hesitantly put his fingers under the spray and smiled in faint surprise at the increasingly warm temperature. Maybe things were starting to look up.

He started to strip when he realized he had no towel. He had a vague memory of having flung it into the hamper in disgust after his earlier foray into chilly waters. After turning off the shower to conserve what precious hot water there was, he opened the bathroom door only to hear the phone still ringing. Alex growled in frustration.

“Zach, get the phone!” he yelled.

The phone continued to ring. Alex cursed as he gingerly rebuttoned his shirt, then made his way into his brother-in-law’s study.

“What?” he barked into the receiver.

“Nice to talk to you, too, buddy,” a male voice said with a laugh. “All that lovely Scottish scenery getting to you?”

Alex rolled his eyes heavenward. His day had just taken a decided turn for the worse. “Tony, what do you want?”

“What, no chitchat?”

“Not with you, thanks anyway.”

“How’s Elizabeth?” Tony continued. “The baby? Your barbarian brother-in-law?”

“My sister’s fine, her baby is fine, and Jamie is fine. Now what the hell do you want?”

“Well, since you asked,” Tony said with a strained laugh, “I’ll get right to it. We need your services.”

Leave it to Tony not to mince words. Alex took a deep breath.

“Tony, I quit eight months ago. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“But you haven’t heard the deal on this one, my friend.”

“I don’t want to hear.”

Tony made a sound of impatience. “It’s the sweetest takeover I’ve ever seen. Smooth, easy. They’ll never see it coming. I’ve already got controlling interest. I just need you to come in and close the deal. It will make you richer than your wildest dreams.”

“I’m already richer than my wildest dreams, Tony.”

“You can always use more—”

“No. Don’t call me again.”

“Alex—”

“Don’t.” Alex hung up the phone.

He leaned back and let out his breath slowly. Was it possible he had ever enjoyed any of this?

Unfortunately, he could remember all too well just how enjoyable it had been. And he remembered just as clearly how it had all started. Anthony DiSalvio had hired him fresh out of law school, when Alex had still been green and full of chivalry. He’d become a lawyer to save the world from injustice. And then Tony, a senior partner, had come to him with a special assignment. Alex had been flattered beyond belief. A little corporate raiding, a takeover done by the book; it had been a rush. He’d saved all the little guys by getting rid of the big bad guys.

He’d been a smashing success.

It had gone to his head.

He’d woken up seven years later. It had taken his sister’s mysterious disappearance to make him take a good hard look at what he was doing with his own life; he hadn’t liked what he’d seen. He had become a pirate—a very rich pirate, but a pirate nonetheless. The little guys had become lost in the shuffle. Alex had raided just for the sheer sport of it, and for the money. He’d started out to save the world from injustice; instead he’d wound up being the cause of more injustice than he cared to think about.

So he’d walked away. Far away from New York and London and all the places where he’d hoisted the skull and crossbones. Leave it to Tony not to take his blunt and offensive resignation seriously.

“I need a change of scenery,” he said to the contents of Jamie’s study. “To somewhere sunny, like the Bahamas.”

Maybe Jamie had a few travel books on the shelf above his desk. Alex put off his shower a few minutes more in deference to Jamie’s private library. Surely there was some destination detailed there that would interest him. He had the time for a vacation. He certainly had the need for one.

He ran a finger along the spine of each book above Jamie’s desk, mentally checking off the ones he’d read.

Then he stopped.

Trails Through Time. Now, this was a new one. Alex pulled the book down and opened it. He read the inside jacket. “In Trails Through Time author Stephen McAfee takes the reader on a marvelous journey down roads in Britain, from Roman times to the present day.”

Interesting. Alex flipped through the pages, then stopped when something slipped out and landed on the desk with a soft plop. Alex put the book aside and reached for the folded piece of paper. It was very worn, as if it had been folded and unfolded dozens of times. He gingerly straightened it out, then looked at it in astonishment. It was a treasure map. Considering the day he was having, he was fairly impressed with his ability to recognize that.

Not that he should have been surprised. He’d been an Eagle Scout, after all, and one famous for his mapmaking skills. Add to that the board and plunder skills he’d acquired after law school and he had the piracy category all sewn up. This was, however, one of the oddest maps Alex had ever seen in his long and illustrious career.

There were the normal things, of course: requisite directional arrows, landmarks aplenty. In fact, the landmarks looked suspiciously like the surrounding countryside. Yes, Jamie’s mountains were there to the north. The castle sat prominently in the middle of the map, with the meadow below it due south. There was the forest to the west and another part of forest to the south. And that squiggle over there had to be the stream that fed into the pond not far from the garden. Alex stared at it for several minutes wondering what looked so strange.

Then it hit him.

There wasn’t just one X marking the spot. There were several.

To another man, such a flagrant disregard for treasure-mapmaking standards might have only indicated slight befuddlement on the part of the mapmaker. But Alex wasn’t just another man. And the mapmaker was his brother-in-law, James MacLeod. And Jamie wasn’t befuddled, he was an honest-to-goodness, former mediev—

Alex put on the mental brakes before he traveled any further down that well-worn path. Traveling down any path Jamie was associated with was hazardous to one’s health. Maybe Jamie had just been scribbling in his spare time.

Unfortunately, those didn’t look like scribbles. Alex looked at the map again and frowned at what was very deliberate...