The Princess and the Pauper Read Online Free

followed her down the ladder. “It isn’t safe on
the roof.”
    When he reached the ground, she
was there, so close. “Then we’ll meet elsewhere . In private. I will hear you
play, Rees.”
    It was the words “in private”
that disarmed him. She didn’t want to hear him play as part of an audience.
She wanted to be the audience. Once such a request would not have troubled
him, but so much about their relationship had changed over the
years—at least for him. Already his heart beat so quick, his
fingers trembled. What would happen between them in an even more
secluded place? He wouldn’t be able to resist her touch. He’d ruin
her.
    “ I have work to do,” he said, his
voice strained. “I have a ballroom to clean.”
    He turned and walked away, but
her lavender
perfume had already settled into the fibers of his clothes, and he
still sensed her with every step he took. No physical distance
could separate him from her, and when she called out “I will hear you play,” he
knew he was the wicked boy she’d so often accused him of being. He
knew he would play for her.
    ~*~
    Grey put all his energy into fixing the
roof. A leak had sprung two days ago, and he’d set to work on the
repairs from dawn until sunset. The difficult and dangerous job had
placed him out of Emily’s reach, and for the most part, distracted
him from thinking about her. But each night, as he entered his room
and washed away the sweat and soot from his skin, he remembered her
tantalizing promise— I will hear you play.
    He shut his eyes. After years of strict
schooling, why wasn’t she a prim and pompous lady? She had
certainly fooled everyone into thinking she was one, arriving with
a mountain of luggage, carting a dizzy-aged chaperone who liked to
tip scotch into her tea when no one was spying. Emily had even
hoodwinked her own father. But she showed Grey her true, spirited
nature. Even now, a fire smoldered in his belly. And soon he
wouldn’t be able to resist her.
    Grey rolled his stiff shoulder muscles
before stripping off his clothes and settling onto the bed. As soon
as his back touched the mattress, he heard a ruffling
noise.
    He arched his spine and slipped a hand
beneath him. His fingers touched paper and he pulled out a folded
note. Since he hadn’t turned down the light, he flipped open the
card and instantly recognized Emily’s handwriting. Even before he
read the words, he knew what the lines would say, what temptation
they would bring:
     
    If you value your
violin,
    you will meet me in the music
room.
    — E
     
    He didn’t k now what burned his blood
more—that she’d stolen his violin and was holding it hostage or
that she’d taken such an extreme measure just to hear him play . .
. to be alone with him.
    He crushed the note in his fist. If she
damaged the instrument because of her recklessness, he’d never
forgive her.
    Quickly h e rolled off the bed and pulled on a
clean pair of trousers and a shirt. He then checked under the bed,
where he stored the violin, just to make sure it was missing, but
he hadn’t much doubt. It took him half a second to confirm she’d
flinched it.
    “ Spoiled, rotten girl,” he
muttered, striding toward the music room in his bare feet. But even
as he fumed, his heart pounded with unmatched
anticipation.
    He passed a few other servants, but no one
minded him. He was the indentured servant in the household, the
drudge, his place below the lowliest scullery maid, and because he
was ignored, he could do almost anything he wanted—like meet with
Emily.
    It wasn’t long before he reached the music
room. A faint tune pierced the thick walls. He grabbed the latch
and pushed opened the door. Inside, Emily was seated in a chair,
facing the moonlit window, playing a violin.
    She sensed his
presence , for
she missed a note, and in that moment he fully realized she was
playing one of his melodies on his instrument.
    A different kind of heat came
over him. He had never heard her play the violin.