Page 35 of The Viscount's Unwanted Bride
He nodded. It wasn’t the first time she’d referenced her artistic inclinations. “I hope you will let me see your art one day.”
“Perhaps.” Her lips twisted in a hint of a smirk. “If I think you’ll like it.”
Somehow, that sounded less like she was concerned about protecting her ego and more like she was laying down a silent challenge. She was asking him to prove himself worthy of seeing something she considered personal.
What an intriguing woman.
They stopped outside a house on the fringes of Mayfair. It was an older building but well-kept. Theo hadn’t met Mr. and Mrs. Harrod before. Honestly, unless someone was an acquaintance of his parents, an old school friend, or participated in the House of Lords, there was a high likelihood he wouldn’t have met them. Having married young, he’d remained mostly in the country and kept to himself.
A cluster of young ladies were gathered just outside the front door, and they all looked their way as the carriage door opened and Theo got out. He offered his hand to Lady Katherine and helped her down.
One of the women watching them hid her mouth behind her hand and giggled. He hoped she just happened to have heard a joke because he wouldn’t tolerate anyone treating Lady Katherine less than respectfully.
Lady Drake led them up the stairs and greeted an older woman wearing a fussy purple dress. She introduced Theo, who murmured a few words of gratitude for allowing him to attend on such late notice, and then they walked farther into the house and veered left into what appeared to be a small ballroom.
Chairs were arranged in an arc around a low stage. Lady Drake went straight to the left-hand side and sat near the back. Theo guided Lady Katherine into the chair beside her mother, and he took the one on her other side.
As the seats filled, he noticed that the guests left a wide berth around them, as if concerned that either his reputation or her scandal might be catching.
An array of instruments was set up on the stage. A grand piano occupied the center with small instruments positioned around it. A cello, a violin, something in a case that might be a flute, and, by far the most beautiful of all, an intricately carved harp. He wondered whether these instruments belong to the Harrods or if the people intending to play had brought them.
Eventually, the doors behind them were closed, and Mrs. Harrod stood at the front to make a brief welcoming speech. When she was done, she introduced the first performer.
The young lady, who was a startling shade of white, picked up the violin, her hands trembling so violently that the bow kept catching the strings and making awful screeching noises.
When she began to play in earnest, Theo immediately dug into his pocket to retrieve the wadded cotton. He jammed tiny bits of it into his ears and prayed that no one around would notice his rudeness. He glanced sideways at Lady Katherine, but she was too busy trying to maintain a straight face to have noticed his poor behavior.
Thankfully, the song didn’t last long. The young lady dashed from the stage and rushed toward the door as if intending to make a getaway. She was intercepted by Mrs. Harrod, who steered her toward a chair near the exit.
The next person to ascend the stage was also a young lady. This one, however, preened and made a show of smiling brilliantly as she sat behind the cello. Then proceeded to murder it.
There was absolutely no difference in the skill level between her and the previous performer except that the first had the common sense to know how terrible she was. The cellist reveled in her performance. She swayed with the music and made exaggerated hand motions with the bow as if carried away by passion.
Theo almost envied her. How nice would it be to have such delusions of grandeur? To never doubt one’s ability? He certainly wouldn’t mind such a boost of confidence.
Lady Katherine was the third to be summoned to the stage. She sat at the piano and rested her fingers on the keys. When she began to play, she was… not too bad. She certainly couldn’t be considered a virtuoso, but the music that sprang from herfingertips was pleasant. He even removed the cotton from his ears.
The song she’d chosen was upbeat and made him think of fields of wildflowers blowing in a spring breeze. There were a few hesitations and perhaps a couple of missed notes, but he would gladly listen to her play again. The same couldn’t be said for the first two performers.
As her fingers danced over the keys, her face was serene, her lips curved in the smallest of smiles. He took his chance to study her fully. He hadn’t spent much time examining her over the past few days—not because he was uninterested but because staring was impolite.
Now, he was able to look to his heart’s content. She was pretty. Her fingers elegant and nimble. Her hair thick and shiny. And her lips…
No, it was safer if he didn’t linger on those attributes.
“Doesn’t she play beautifully?” Lady Drake murmured, loud enough for only him to hear.
“She does. You ought to be proud.”
She beamed. “I always have been. Even when she gets herself into trouble.”
When Lady Katherine finished with a flourish, he applauded enthusiastically. He wasn’t the only person in the audience who was obviously relieved not to have been subjected to another round of ear torture.
She bowed, returned to her seat, and folded her hands primly on her lap.
He leaned toward her. “You played well.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
