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“The music,” she tried to explain. But he, a mere human, would never understand.
“I heard no music, Miss Thorne,” he said, looking at her skeptically.
“It was there. I promise.” She placed a hand over her heart and regarded him stoically. Then the wind lifted the hem of her gown and the leaves rustled gently. The tinkling began anew. Sophia closed her eyes and hummed with the music. When it stopped, her eyes flew open, only to find the Duke of Robinsworth looking at her with skepticism. “Didn’t you hear it?”
“Do you mean the chimes blowing in the wind?” he asked, his voice incredulous. He pointed to a nearby post, from which dangled several strings full of tiny, hollow, silver balls. When the wind moved just right, the balls struck one another lightly, each producing a different note that sounded like a sweet symphony to her ears.
“Wind chimes…” she breathed, closing her eyes as the tinkling sound enveloped her. She listened until the wind shifted and the sound stopped. Then she opened her eyes, only to find the duke leaning against the fountain, regarding her with more than curiosity. She wasn’t certain what else it was, but she sensed something there.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Thorne?” he asked. He’d caught his breath, and now he looked like he just needed to catch his wits.
“I should probably explain,” she began with hesitance.
“That would be nice,” he said rather drolly. She liked the duke more than she’d expected.
“But first I’ll have to get to know you better.”
“Beg your pardon?” His jaw dropped.
“I cannot reveal all of my secrets until I know you better. And even then, I’d never be able to reveal much.”
He pointed to the silver balls. “But the wind chimes?”
?
?My name is Sophia,” she tossed out, prevaricating as she looked for a way to explain.
He looked at her as though she’d grown two heads.
“Do you have a name?” she asked casually, still trying to figure out how to tell him about her love of music.
“Doesn’t everyone have a name, Miss Thorne?” He sighed heavily when she frowned at him, then continued. “My friends and family call me Robin.”
“No, your real name,” she tried.
“No one has called me by my given name since I was a boy, Miss Thorne.”
“Sophia,” she corrected. “I give you leave to use it.” He had a look on his face that made her doubt anyone had given the duke leave to do anything in a very long time. What his rank didn’t afford him, his past did. People feared him because of his rank, and they feared him because of his past. So, by either standard, he was allowed to behave as he pleased. And most people stayed at least ten paces from him, much less getting close enough to afford him leave.
Then the wind shifted again and she couldn’t keep from twirling as the music in her head began to form shapes. It was odd. She could usually push the music out of her mind, no matter how much she wanted to let it settle inside her. But this music was different. The wind stopped. “And you?” she asked as she stopped twirling.
“My name is Ashley,” he finally said, very quietly, as though speaking with any force would put a stop to their conversation, no matter how absurd.
She stepped forward and laid a hand on his chest. “And do you give me leave to use it?”
“I would probably give you leave to do anything,” he muttered, as he swiped a hand down his face. “Have you enchanted me in some way, Sophia?”
“Oh, no, I can’t do that,” she began. Then she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it. He didn’t draw his gaze from her mouth. “I love your wind chimes.”
“I can tell as much.” He studied her. Hard.
“Do you give me leave to call you Ashley?”
“If anyone heard you call me by that name, they’d think there’s something untoward going on between us.”
“But there is,” she said. He had no idea yet of the depth of her involvement in the days to come. But she’d be more involved in his life than he’d ever dream.
He turned his head and coughed into his closed fist. Probably a stall tactic. Like her own inane ramblings.
