Isle of the Piper

Published by: eXtasy Books

ISBN :978-1-4874-4018-3

Page :145

Word Count :38791

Publication Date :2024-05-31

Heat Level :

Available Formats : Isle of the Piper (prc) , Isle of the Piper (pdf) , Isle of the Piper (mobi) , Isle of the Piper (epub)

Category : Fantasy Romance , Paranormal Romance , Romance , Coming Soon

Product Code: 978-1-4874-4018-3

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Horry and Ancella set out to solve some of the mysteries of Tanqueray Manor at the mysterious Isle of the Piper. The answers are out there, but who has them, and will they be willing to tell?

Horry is still coming to terms with the knowledge that his small, beautiful, and very greedy pony, Fleur-de-Lis, is really a long-lived kelpie, and that he won’t see his best friend Vigdis for a long while. His sister Ancella, newly married and expecting a baby, is determined to visit a mysterious island and track down the piper who gave her an enigmatic hint back at the New Year’s ball. With spring almost ended, Ancella sets out on an adventure, taking Horry as her companion. The eldest and the youngest of the Tanqueray siblings have a special bond, but there are challenges to overcome before they find the answers to their questions.

The spring would soon be burgeoning into summer. Horatio Tanqueray was proud of that word, but also a wee bit chary of using it in public.

Horry was twelve, but he knew he didn’t look as old as that. In a tall family—with his next brother up, Guy, towering even over Papa and the twins—Horry was small. His new, special and secret friend, Vigdis, was probably still eleven. She hadn’t said when her birthday was during their perfect day almost three months before, but then, neither had he. She had thought he was older in his heart and his head than in his body. He quite liked that idea, but he wished his body would hurry and catch up. Folk meeting him for the first time took him for nine or ten at the most, and even those who knew him well were apt to treat him, and even to refer to him, as a little lad. They hadn’t done that to Guy since he was seven.

At one time, Horry had sought out the most mature words and opinions he could use to remind folk he was not a little lad. Lately, though, he’d decided this made him seem affected. Being affected was not something he admired. His brother-by-love, Cart de Libre, wore his hair in a tail like a Heatherman. So did Guy. No one called them affected on account of it. His friend Pom, who used to be Ancella’s sweetheart before she married Cart, was frequently splashed with paint or wearing chantilly blossom in his pocket or his hat. No one called him affected, either.

Horry thought that was probably because Cart, Guy, and Pom were wonderfully, solidly, utterly themselves. Not everyone achieved that state. The twins, who came above Guy and Horry but below Ancella in the Tanqueray family, were still struggling with it—or with something. Whatever it was seemed likely to be serious, but Horry had promised not to pry or to ask anyone else what ailed them until or unless one of them chose to explain.

That didn’t keep him from speculating, or from wishing they’d sort it out.

I don’t need to know, he assured himself.

Unless, he added ruefully, it was something a gentleman should know. Not that he was a gentleman yet. Even Guy wasn’t a gentleman yet, for all his impressive size. A big lad was what folk said about Guy.

There were only two good things about being wee in a family of tall people. He could often overhear things without others noticing, and he was small enough to ride his pony, Fleur-de-Lis, without looking ridiculous.

Lis was a marvel—an enigma and a huge family secret that Ancella didn’t even know. Horry had learned it from his brothers on the day he’d met Vigdis. He’d learned another secret when Cart told him something special. Everyone would know that special secret soon. It couldn’t be hidden for much longer.

Horry wasn’t thinking of the special secret when he got out of bed before the dawn. He was thinking of Vigdis, because the last time he’d been up so early he had ridden to Galleonport to see her one last time. He’d nearly missed her, but a hurried canter to the long stone spit called the Kiss of Summer had rewarded him with the sight of the vinterhester fleet sailing away.

Vinterrytter, the galleon Vigdis and her wild filly Blomst called home, had sailed in close enough for them to hold a shouted conversation.

He put the memory away because it made him both joyful and melancholy.

He’d seen a piper from Heather Isle as well, who had seemed to know him…or at least, he’d seemed to know Lis.

He’d tossed a square of cake and bidden him to share it with the gifted one.

That was the name given to Lis in her portrait in the ballroom at the manor.

It had been a magical two days, and for three months Horry had chafed to return to the uplifted feeling he had then.

He hadn’t succeeded, and so he’d decided it was time to make things happen—if he could.

As he had that other time, he put on his clothes in the dark and walked downstairs carrying his boots so as not to wake Guy.

Not that Guy would say anything. They had a gentlemen’s agreement that if either of them wanted to go out at an unusual hour the other would mind his own business and neither tell anyone else nor even ask questions..

As far as Horry knew, Guy hadn’t taken advantage of this arrangement, but someday soon he might.

Downstairs, he put on his boots, detoured to the larder for some gingerbread and carry-bread, and went to the orchard where the family horses lived.

Most of them were asleep in dark, statue-like forms under the trees or over by the stable.

His own Lis waited for him by the tented willow.

“Greet you, Milady Lis,” he said. “This is a surprise.”

Lis specialised in being elusive, and although whistling usually brought her out of hiding, she was capricious and might make him wait.

He was glad he hadn’t needed to do that this time, for whistling carried a long way in the dark. He didn’t want to explain himself to Maman or Papa. They would point out, reasonably enough, that he didn’t need to ask virtual strangers for information, and he certainly didn’t need to do it at such an unsociable hour.

Horry knew most folk liked to be reasonable. He supposed he might be like that himself one day, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. Then again, Ancella wasn’t always reasonable, and if Pom knew the meaning of the term he must think it didn’t apply to him. Maybe, Horry thought, reasonableness was something that could be avoided if one tried hard enough.