AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I have never moved it,” Percy said. “Are you certain you didn’t see it on the fourth floor?”
“I am certain.” Fanny stepped away from him to look inside the open door of a small room near the end of the hallway. There, just within the doorway was a harp. “I’ve found it!”
She moved back to take Percy’s arm and pulled him through the door. The sitting room of sorts was adorned with two chairs, a tea table, a pianoforte, and Percy’s harp.
“It is beautiful,” she whispered. The harp stood tall and golden beside an armchair. It shone in the sunlight that filtered through the one large window. Intricate carvings marked the edges, and the strings gleamed brilliantly with two tones of color.
She glanced at Percy. His brows were still drawn together in confusion and his mouth was firm. “But how did it get here in this room?” He walked forward and placed his hand on top of the harp, running his fingers over the carvings. “I don’t understand…”
“Never mind that,” Fanny said in a cheerful voice, hoping to lighten his expression. “I should like to hear a song.”
He stared at the harp just a moment longer, then threw her a quizzical look. “Are you quite sure? You may find my musical talent too much. I cannot have you fainting.”
Fanny smiled. She enjoyed seeing this new side of Percy. What had been angry, bitter verbal sparrings in the beginning had now transformed into light-hearted battles.
“Oh, certainly not. Especially when you can’t see where I’m falling. Any proper damsel that intends to faint must have a hero to catch her.”
Percy seemed to hesitate, and for a moment Fanny wondered if she had offended him. But then he stepped closer and found her hand, wrapping it up in his. Her heart gave a little flutter at his touch, and her face flooded with warmth. “Then I suppose I ought to hold onto you. As a precaution,” he said.
Fanny gave a shaky laugh. Percy’s head was turned toward her, and it seemed that his eyes were fixed directly on hers. An errant strand of hair hung on his forehead and she reached up to brush it away. “You can’t play the harp while also holding my hand,” she quipped. “It simply isn’t plausible.”
Her remark brought a smile to his face, and Fanny couldn’t help but notice the little crease that appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Are you asking me to stop holding your hand?”
Fanny looked down at his hand, strong and gentle at once, enveloping her own. She felt safe. Her heart beat against her ribs as she realized how very long it had been since she had felt so secure. Like she belonged. It was strange and unexpected, but she liked it. “No.”
He smiled again.
“But…I would like to hear you play a song,” Fanny said.
“Wait.” His voice was serious. Fanny looked up at him. His lashes fluttered down and his hand shifted in hers. “I would like to hold your hand just a moment longer. If I don’t do it now, I fear you will never allow me the opportunity again.”
Fanny smiled as her cheeks flamed. She was grateful that he couldn’t see it. “Perhaps you
are right, this may very well be your only chance,” she teased. “But will you allow me to sit? It takes great effort dragging you around by the arm all day. I am exhausted.”
Percy nodded, a suppressed smile on his lips, and moved toward the chairs positioned near the harp. Fanny studied the instrument, noticing the graceful slope of the neck, the curve of the shoulder, and the radiance of the pillar. The instrument looked just as bright and new as it looked mysterious and ancient.
Percy sat down, and she sat in the chair beside him, their entwined hands resting on the arm of his chair. “Tell me the story of this harp,” she said, breaking the silence.
Percy’s head shifted toward where the harp stood, and his expression lifted. “It belonged to my grandfather, as I mentioned before, but it was already at least a century old when it came to his possession. I learned to play the harp when I was a child, but my father never allowed me to practice on this one. It was too valuable. It is made of precious metals, a vast amount being gold. So you can imagine my distress over losing it.”
Fanny stared in awe at the lovely instrument. “Of course.”
“I don’t understand how it came to be in this room,” he mumbled. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened, thinking.
Fanny’s mind roamed the possibilities, but she came up with nothing. “Perhaps you have just forgotten.”
Percy’s shoulders relaxed. “Perhaps.”
She watched the side of his face in silence, searching for clues there. Why did he insist upon holding her hand? Why must his smile be so endearing? She had made a decision to hate him after their first encounter in the carriage, but now she realized how difficult that decision would be to uphold. She had wanted him to like her, but coming to like him herself certainly hadn’t been part of her plan. They had already come to be reluctant friends. What if love was a possibility? Fanny’s other hand flicked to her face on instinct, tracing the scars with one finger. How could he love her? Yes, he couldn’t see it, but if he touched her face, kissed her cheek, he would know. Every step forward they had taken would be undone.
Silently, she slipped her hand from his.
“The song?” Fanny prompted.
Percy leaned forward in his chair, pulling his seat closer to the harp. “I haven’t played in a long time.” He reached his hand forward and touched the strings, pulling away flecks of dust. Leaning his head toward the harp, he blew out a breath of air, scattering tiny particles of dust. Illuminated by the morning sunlight in the room, they looked like falling flakes of snow. “I will try my best.”
Fanny sat back in her chair, staring with admiration as Percy plucked the first string. His eyes closed, and he swayed with the vibration. Then his hands moved a little faster, pulling from that beautiful harp an even more beautiful song. It was a haunting tune, slow and deliberate. She felt Percy’s heart pouring out of the strings, echoing off the walls in that beautiful melody. Fanny was wholly captivated by this talent he had been hiding. When the last note rang through the air, she nearly leapt from her chair to throw her arms around him. She decided against it, however, and clapped her hands instead.
