In the Arms of an Earl Read Online Free Page B

cool stare acknowledged she’d looked at his empty cuff. To ease the growing tension in the silence around them, she hastily said, “My father and Colonel Parker are old friends. I have been a guest here a month.”
    Why should she explain her presence in the house? She should have foregone conversation and hurried out of the room as any proper young lady would.
    Before she decided, he smiled. It was just the barest hint of a smile but reassured her somehow, and she remained where she was.
    “Our host mentioned you when I arrived earlier. Tell me, do you often play at night, when the house is asleep?”
    “Most of the house is asleep.” She bit her lip at her impertinence. He had obviously made a joke to settle her nerves.
    “Quite right.” He held out his hand. “Forgive my lack of manners. Colonel Frederick Blakeney, at your service. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Brooke. Again.”
    She hesitated, wondering if she should shake a gentleman’s hand while dressed in her nightclothes. Summoning all the dignity she could, she placed her hand in his, surprised when he squeezed her fingers. His hand was warmer than she expected, and she almost forgot to pull away. When she did, she looked up at him. His interested gaze had never left her face. Heat rose through her, reaching her cheeks and flooding the rest of her the way it had when she’d first met him. She didn’t know how she’d ever thought Jeremy Parker the handsomest man she’d ever met. She swallowed, but her throat remained dry.
    “I should go.” She would have to walk around him if he didn’t move first.
    He didn’t.
    “Why not play some more? I enjoyed listening to you. Unless you’re tired, of course.”
    Lucinda’s words about his musical aptitude flooded her thoughts. “I could play all night, Colonel Blakeney. But I’m not fond of playing before an audience. I’m afraid my talent is not quite up to performance level.”
    “I beg to disagree. Please, indulge yourself. I shall disappear into the corner again. Just pretend I do not exist.” With an elegant bow, he took his former position on the divan near the back of the room.
    Jane stood by the fire, her fingers tingling. Her mother would have an attack of nerves were she ever to learn her daughter had played the pianoforte at midnight for a handsome stranger.
    But Mamma was not there.
    Rolling up her sleeves, she sank onto the bench, her earlier enthusiasm returning.
    “Do you know any Mozart?”
    She nodded, oddly pleased he shared her preference. “I adore Mozart.” She paused before adding, “But I’m to play Haydn for you tomorrow.”
    “That last piece did not sound like Haydn.”
    A tiny voice inside her head urged her to excuse herself. Although he was not presumptive in the least, the stirring of something akin to intimacy was blossoming between them, despite his sitting several feet away. Of course, he would recognize his own composition, even if played by her inexpert hands.
    “It was yours,” she admitted, listening through the empty, hard silence for his response. Perhaps her poor playing had offended him. “I did not mean to presume…”
    “No, Miss Brooke, you misunderstand.” His voice sounded heavier. “I have not heard it played in such a way as I envisioned it when I wrote it. The performer today was perfection, but perfection was not the quality I sought. You have given it…” His voice wavered as he thought of the right word. “A soul.”
    Was he mocking her? Jeremy Parker would say something similar to capture an admirer. But even though she barely knew the colonel, she didn’t think he was cut from the same cloth as Jeremy.
    “It is truly the loveliest thing I have ever heard.” She hadn’t meant to speak so softly. Her collar was suddenly too tight, her sleeves too confining. She quickly touched the keys and played before either of them could speak again.
    She played a Mozart sonata, stumbling at the menuetto , but then picked up