twelve
ANGELINE’S CHEEK TINGLED pleasantly when she sat next to Royston to listen to the piano concert. The soft brush of his fingers had left a path of pleasant shivers on her skin, but his words had left a path of happiness and tenderness in her heart.
The gazebo where a grand piano sat was adorned with pink roses, and the rows of seats around it had pretty matching ribbons. Mama sat on Angeline’s other side, a smug expression on her face.
If anything, Angeline had proved her wrong because Royston had been impressed with her archery skills. She still glowed about his praise. It didn’t mean anything though. He wouldn’t court her only because she was good with a bow. Oh, well, she didn’t care. He wasn’t interested in marriage anyway, and she enjoyed his company.
Lady Redvers and her daughter took the seats in front of her, chatting in whispers. Mr. Wright, a tall and thin man, bowed to the audience. His rich auburn hair and sparkling green eyes gave him a youthful look. He sat on the piano bench and began playing a beautiful, sweet piece.
“Which piece is this?” she whispered to Royston.
“Liszt,Liebestraumnumber three. It means love dream.”
There wasn’t a more fitting title for the beautiful music, and the piano player added a ridiculous amount of ache to it.
Now she understood why Mr. Wright was the best pianist at the moment. He had the uncanny power to capture those who listened and never let them go. She raised her gaze from the talented pianist and was surprised to find Royston staring at her with intense hazel eyes.
He smiled, long bronzed eyelashes fluttering. His harsh lines softened, and his boyish beauty shone. When he smiled like that, he didn’t look harsh at all.
She couldn’t help but smile back. With the music caressing them and the blowballs floating around, she could easily believe they lived in a fairy tale. She should feel uncomfortable about sharing such a long stare with a man, but instead, a sense of calm washed over her. In that quiet moment between them, the world seemed perfect.
She returned her attention to the pianist when the music ended and clapped with the rest of the audience.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
“One can’t help but fall in love.” He sounded so serious she wondered if he meant… no, of course he didn’t.
Lady Redvers stood up, clapping. “Thank you, Mr. Wright, for your performance. Now my daughter Georgiana will play a Chopin’s sonata.”
Judging by how Miss Taylor turned the colour of turnips, she wasn’t ready.
“Mother,” Miss Taylor said.
“Don’t be shy. Lord Wharton loves music, don’t you, my lord?” Lady Redvers asked, half-turning around to see Royston.
Angeline held back a comment. What did Royston have to do with Miss Taylor’s playing?
Royston rose as well. “I do, my lady.”
“Go, darling.” Lady Redvers almost shoved her daughter towards the gazebo.
Miss Taylor shuffled towards the piano. She exchanged a few words with Mr. Wright, who flushed a deep red, before she sat on the piano bench. She and Mr. Wright went through a stack of music sheets, talking in whispers.
“You’ll see, my lord,” Lady Redvers said. “Some young women like my daughter are skilled in delicate, tasteful forms of art. Other not-so-young women instead, alas, find pleasure in unladylike activities.”
Like archery?Angeline clenched her fists in her lap.
“It’s not a surprise if such women can’t find a good match or any match at all,” Lady Redvers continued, sitting down.
“I believe that every skill has its merit.” Royston sat as well. “Especially if it comes from hard work and dedication.”
Angeline mouthed, “Thank you.”
“Does your daughter play the piano, Havisham?” Lady Redvers asked.
“Not really,” the earl said. “But she loves cricket. Who knows, perhaps one day she’ll be as skilled as Miss Haywood is with a bow.” He gave her a polite nod.
“Thank you, my lord,” Angeline said.
