The Kingmakers(53)

He held her gaze a moment longer, and then began to turn pages eagerly. “Inverness. I lived there as a boy. My father taught me so many things in the forests and moors around it.”

Adele pressed closer to him, trying to ignore the fact that he was talking about hunting humans, and concentrating only on his lingering study of the photo that conjured memories of his beloved father.

Abruptly, he flipped pages and pointed at a map of France. “Brittany. I spent time there.”

“As Greyfriar?”

“Oh. Well, yes. But before Greyfriar too.” He quickly turned pages. “Ah, Paris. I lived here for many years three hundred years ago. You would have liked Paris.”

“But not now?” she chided.

“Doubtful. It's declined considerably.”

“Do you know the king there?”

“Yes.”

Something in his voice and attitude saddened Adele. “Is the Parisian king an enemy of yours?”

“No. A friend. Or he was.” His eyes were focused elsewhere in the past.

Adele touched his sleeve. “I'm sorry. You seem so solitary. I assumed you'd always been so. What's his name?”

“Lothaire.”

“Is he a good king? From your point of view.”

Greyfriar shook his head slowly. “I don't know. I haven't been to Paris since the Great Killing, and I haven't had any contact with him since he became king. I know Lothaire fought a long struggle with his cousins for the throne. Many of the smaller clans took advantage. So he's not nearly the king his father was.” He adjusted the scarf covering his face. “But who is?”

She gently took the book from him. “Let's not think about the past. Or the present. Or anything outside this library. This is our sanctuary. Such things shouldn't intrude here. We won't allow it.”

He nodded. “You're right. Show me something else.”

His hand in hers, she led him around the vast chamber. “Right now, we're in the history section.”

“So much.” Greyfriar gazed at the towering shelves filled to the brink with human history.

She didn't linger and moved onto another area. “And these are books on science and medicine.”

“Like Randolph's Treatise on Homo Nosferatii?”

“Yes, there's a copy here somewhere.” Adele's slender fingers slid along the leather folio spines. “Here it is.”

Greyfriar pulled the tome carefully from its place and said with wonder, “It is the exact book. And in much better condition than my copy in Edinburgh.”

“There were many copies printed. I believe I heard Sir Godfrey boasting the book's print run was around three thousand.”

The book dropped from Greyfriar's numb hands. It landed on the floor with a booming thud. “So many copies of just one book?”

“I hate to tell you, but your copy isn't a collector's item,” Adele jested as she lifted the book from the floor and set it on a table. Then she answered him earnestly. “Multiple copies allow it to reach more people. A book must be read by many if it is to have its message known.”

“Amazing.” His eyes were afire with the possibilities and wonder about him. His finger ran along the spines, mimicking Adele's earlier action. He turned toward her suddenly. “Which books do you prefer?”

Adele mused for a moment. “Fiction. Though the court tutors would be aghast at such a thing. They'd much prefer me to relish art history and musical theory.”

“Where are your favorites?”

“Here.” Adele darted among the rows and he chased after her. She twirled girlishly in a large alcove, her arms gesturing around her. “These are the ones I adore. I sometimes had to sneak a book from here and read it in the chemistry section so they thought I was studying.”

“So you read them in secret?”

She blushed. “Yes. Like you.”

Greyfriar caught her up in a swift embrace, and together they stared at the volumes around them. “May I see one of them?”

“Of course, silly.” She climbed a ladder to the top shelves. The book she chose was a very large dusty volume, so he climbed up to help her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“An illustrated book of fairy tales.”

“Fairy tales,” he said. “Stories of make-believe. I have a book full of them in Edinburgh.”

“Yes, I remember. Tales of monsters, beasts, heroism, magic, redemption, and true love.” She ran a finger along the line of his chin hidden beneath the scarf. “But fairy tales also warn of evil deeds and dark thoughts to scare you onto the path of good and pure.”

“So they are lessons meant to teach?”

“Yes, cloaked in a fanciful story.” Adele's tug on his cloak ended with a reverent caress.