Page 53 of Honour Bound
I considered his words. I’d been banking on Dagda’s harp to do all my work but if I could add some old-fashioned manipulation into the mix to help my cause, that would be all to the good.
‘Thanks.’
‘Does that mean I’m forgiven?’ Taylor batted his eyelashes.
‘Don’t push your luck.’
A fanfare sounded and Byron strode out, still wearing his kilt from yesterday. I ignored the looks which Lexie and Taylor sent me and focused on him. With his shoulders back and his head high, he looked every inch the heir to the highest-placed Clan in Scotland. It occurred to me that what I’d once believed was arrogance had more to do with self-belief. It must feel good to have such unshakeable self-confidence. I thought I did a pretty good job myself but I didn’t exude that kind of power.
Byron’s gaze swept round the auditorium as if he were searching for someone in particular. I couldn’t prevent a flash of hope that it might be me but that was a ridiculous notion. The stage lights were too bright so there was no chance he could see this far up.
When his eyes alighted on someone and he bowed and blew a kiss, my heart hardened. The object of his affection stood up and curtsied. Tipsania. Of course. I had no idea what game the two of them were playing but I meant what I said to Byron. It would be safer to keep as well away from them as I could.
A gigantic timer appeared over Byron’s head and was lowered so that it was visible from every angle. Five minutes flashed up, followed by a loud gong and his performance began.
He dropped his head. Five seconds went by, then ten. I frowned. What on earth was he doing? I looked at the clock as a full half-minute ticked by, my heart in my mouth. Was this deliberate? I hoped it had nothing to do with me inadvertently nabbing part of his Gift. Just as my stomach squirmed in panic and the crowd started to murmur, there was a faint squeak of wheels from the wings. As if it were propelling itself, a baby grand piano appeared and wheeled its way towards Byron. He smiled but, other than that, remained perfectly still.
The moment the piano halted, the first note sounded, slow and melodic to begin with before speeding up into a pounding, powerful beat. Byron was at least five feet away from it; he was playing the piano through his Gift. The only thing that indicated he was responsible for the sound was the movement of the muscles in his face and body – a twitch of his forehead here and a bunching of his fingers there. As the music rose into the air, swelling in majesty, I forced myself to empty my mind and focus solely on the tune. The last thing I wanted was for my own mind to rip away more magic from him.
I didn’t have to try that hard. The tune, whatever it was, was so stirring that it felt like it was consuming me. The piano keys moved, changing from fast to slow and from hard to soft, a velvety rhythm that overtook me completely. My heartbeat seemed to change, mimicking the melody. The auditorium was filled with the sound and I didn’t need to look at the rest of the audience to know that they were as rapt as I was. How was it possible for a simple piece of music to be so imbued with emotion? Goosebumps rose on my arms and I felt odd stirrings of patriotism when I heard birls and lilts that were unmistakably Scottish. As Byron manipulated the keys into a crescendo, my blood buzzed and the music fizzed through my veins. And when the last note echoed away, I felt the wound on my cheek sting because I’d been crying without realising it.
The crowd rose to its feet, bellowing approval. I hastily wiped away my tears and joined them.
‘That was unbelievable!’ Lexie yelled.
Brochan remained seated. ‘If you like that sort of thing.’ His eyes were suspiciously glassy.
‘If I was wearing underpants, I’d be tempted to take them off and throw them at him,’ Taylor admitted. ‘No wonder you like him, Tegs.’
Byron bowed and turned to the judges. They each pressed a button, lighting up screens that were set into the league table. Nine. Nine. Ten.
‘I can’t believe he didn’t get a perfect score,’ Speck muttered. ‘I can see why they keep harping on about how dangerous these challenges are. If everyone else is that skilful, then I’m in danger of losing my heart.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Speaking of harping on, it doesn’t matter how impressive Dagda’s harp is,’ I said. ‘I think I’m pretty much screwed. I can’t compete with that.’
Not one of my friends disagreed.
Chapter Twelve
I stayed for the next few performances. Although none were as impressive as Byron’s, they were still very proficient. I was tempted to disturb Bob and get him to listen and see if he thought that Dagda’s harp was going to be enough for me not to come last. But there were too many people around and it was probably too late to do anything about it anyway. Even though I was bottom of the list and wouldn’t perform until late tomorrow, I wouldn’t acquire any musical ability by then, no matter how much I wanted it. I’d just have to keep my fingers crossed that Dagda came through.
When the five Moncrieffe competitors finished and Tipsania glided onto the stage, I decided it was time to do something. Leaving the rest of them to maintain appearances, and after passing the harp to Brochan, I slipped out the door. With most of the Cruaich’s visitors in the auditorium, it was the perfect opportunity to see what I could find. There would be less chance of bumping into anyone who wanted to make an example of me, like the trio who had set upon me earlier.
There was no question about who I was most interested in. As Steward, Aifric was beholden to his guests and forced to remain in the auditorium; it wouldn’t do for him to publicly snub a Clan by leaving during a performance. What was no doubt a pain in the arse for him was a godsend for me. All I had to do was locate his quarters and I could snoop around to my heart’s content.
I had a vague idea where all the rooms and suites were located after my last visit here but the Cruaich castle was still a maze. With twenty-four Clans staying, not including my own, it would be a waste of time for me to skulk down every corridor in the hope of finding flashes of the Moncrieffe tartan so, rather than wander around aimlessly, I strolled into the main hall and looked for someone who would help.
The Sidhe nobles might despise me because of my lineage but the lesser Clanlings were far more amenable. In fact, they often seemed in awe of me. It was one of the many things that made me wonder what my father was really like. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get an answer.
Spotting a scurrying pixie, I barred his way. ‘Hello!’ I beamed.
The pixie, obviously flustered, gave a brief bow. ‘Chieftain Adair.’
I tried not to look too happy that he’d used my real name and title. ‘I wonder if you can help me,’ I said to get the pixie on side.
‘Of course. Would you like some refreshments?’
‘No, thank you. I’m hoping for a tour of the castle. Is there anyone who could take me round? It’s just that I’m new here and I’m constantly feeling wrong-footed. If I had a better idea of the layout, I’d know what people are talking about when they discuss the Cruaich’s history.’ I tittered. ‘Last time someone asked me to meet them in the library it took me hours to find it!’
