Page 75 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge

But if his mother suggested it, he wouldn’t be able to agree for it would be seceding too much. He couldn’t allow her to manipulate him.

“Perhaps, someday, I might wish to play again. For now, I am quite busy with other things.”

Harlow casually set down her fork and turned to him.

“If you would like, I’d be happy to instruct you. I taught Thomas, and he has very little patience for sitting and learning something from his younger sister. Still, he was able to play a few songs when we were finished. If I can teach him, I would think teaching you—someone who already has played, and doesn’t wish to run off when something else grabs your attention—would be quite easy, indeed.”

“That is kind of you, Lady Harlow,” his mother said with a smile. “But you will likely be gone home when the earl wishes to pick up the instrument again. Besides, you are a lady, not a pianoforte instructor. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“Yes, of course,” Harlow agreed and bowed her head somewhat as if she were embarrassed for having suggested such a scandalous affair as teaching someone how to properly place their fingers on the keys.

“As we have all established, I do know how to play. Therefore, I wouldn’t need an instructor. If I only need someone to remind me of the fundamentals, it would not be improper for Lady Harlow to assist.”

His mother gave a demure shrug.

“You shall do whatever you wish anyway. Pay me no mind. Proper or no, I will report to everyone whatever you want me to say.” She returned her attention to her plate and muttered what was obviously loud enough to be heard, “Not that I have a choice in the matter.”

Reese might have felt guilty for dictating what she did by threatening her funds, if he were not so confused. She had relented.

She never backed away from badgering him when it was something she wanted him to do. What was going on here? Was the woman well? She was eating, and generally people who don’t feel well lose their appetite first. Unless she was not well of mind. She was not that old, being years younger than his father. But perhaps she was muddled. For clearly she had forgotten their rules of engagement.

She pestered him to do something he didn’t want to do, and he obstinately refused until she gave up. But now she was suggesting he not do something he wanted to do. It seemed that he would have to show her he was the victor by doing just that.

He turned to Harlow with a smile.

“I would appreciate it, if you would spend some time with me this evening as I muddle my way through some songs at the pianoforte.”

Harlow fairly beamed with excitement and nodded.

“Of course, my lord. I would be happy to help.”

So it was that after the meal was over he and Harlow went to the music room while his mother shook her head in disapproval and returned to her needlepoint in the drawing room.

He had won.

Or so he thought, until he found himself sitting next to Harlow, playing a horrid rendition of the Fatted Goose is Dead and wishing he’d remembered that he hadn’t liked playing as much as he’d thought. Especially when his instructor was so very lovely.

Every time he attempted to distract her with kisses, she pushed him back.

“We can’t. Not when we are supposed to be playing. Don’t you think your mother will grow suspicious if there is no music coming from this room?”

“Hell,” he cursed in complaint, for this plan had completely blown back on him. Still, if the instrument needed to make noise, it could surely make better sounds if they came from someone other than him.

“Why don’t you play, and I’ll watch. That will help a great deal with finger placement and…” He searched his mind for another musical term. “Timing,” he finally supplied.

“Very well.” She smirked at him, as if she knew what he was up to.

She played for another half an hour and they decided that was enough. His mother had surely retired for the evening. Which meant they could do the same. Only instead of going to sleep they could be together. Alone.

He led her upstairs and after darting a glance down the hall to his mother’s closed door they shared a kiss filled with promises of more to come. When he released her, she turned and hurried to her room, looking over her shoulder with a tempting smile.

Shaking his head, he turned for his own room so he might change into something more comfortable and less inhibiting.

When he was changed, he stood by the door waiting. And waiting. They’d forgot to discuss which room they would meet in. Was she to come to his or was he to go to hers as he had the night before?

Unable to wait another minute, he left the room and was halfway down the hall when Harlow left her own room, bidding Belle to stay inside. When she turned to see him, she smiled and walked slowly in his direction.

He opened his mouth to suggest they go back to his room, but she stood on tiptoe to kiss him, right there in the hall. It seemed she was as ravenous for him as he was for her. He took control of the kiss. Pushing her against the wall until she reciprocated, his back pressed against a painting of his great grandfather.

He was again ready to suggest they take things to his room rather than risk being caught in the hall together when she was only wearing a nightgown and he wrapped loosely in his banyan. But she retreated away from him, pulling him along.

He smiled, glad she’d had the same idea, but instead of leading him by the hand to his room, she spun to take her turn with her back against the wall. Except there was not a wall there. In its place was an alcove, adorned with a small table and a vase of flowers.

He saw what was going to happen before it transpired, for it was clear there was to be a catastrophe, but while his mind responded quickly, his body was quite slower. So slow in fact, he was unable to stop the motion.

Harlow stumbled backward, bumping the table with a great force, which knocked the vase off the surface. Had it landed on the carpet stretched the length of the hall, it would have muffled the sound. But the alcove was not carpeted. So when the vase hit the floor, it did so with a loud crash.

He and Harlow seemed frozen as they both looked toward his mother’s room. For a beat of his heart, he thought all would be fine. But only a second later, the door opened.

It seemed they were well and truly caught this time. It was only then that he realized there had been a trap at all, and Harlow had been the one to set it.