Page 40 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
“Now you need to practice,” Louisa said, raising her voice. “I wonder if there is someone biding his time in boredom who might want to sing.”
“Very funny,” Simon said dryly from behind them.
Georgie exchanged a glance with Louisa then looked over her shoulder at her brother. “If you’re not going to sing, why are you here? Surely there is business to work on, or boats that need to be rowed.”
Louisa laughed. She watched Simon fold his arms over his chest.
“So if I want to hear my sister play an instrument, that is poorly done of me?” he said with a wounded air. “I can’t pass a quiet moment in peace, receiving pleasure from sound, one of the only senses I have left?”
Louisa and Georgie both groaned.
“All right, all right,” Louisa said with resignation. “I’ll sing. Georgie, get ready.”
She preceded to sing at every possible pace imaginable, until they were both breathless with laughter, and she could sing no more. Simon wore a smile, though he never approached them.
Quietly, Louisa said, “Keep playing, Georgie. I’m going to see if your brother will actually join us.”
“Regardless, you should be impressed with yourself, Louisa. He hasn’t come near a piano at all until you arrived.”
Louisa frowned. “You should know that he’s practically challenged me to make sure I do a decent job by you. That’s probably why he’s here.”
Georgie hit a wrong note. “What? That is the silliest things I ever—I’ll just have to talk to him.”
“No, please let me handle this. I don’t want him to think I’m betraying his confidence.”
“If you insist,” she said reluctantly.
“Keep playing,” Louisa whispered, then left Georgie to walk to Simon. She made sure her footsteps were loud.
“You don’t have to pound the floor,” Simon said as she approached.
“Pound the floor?” she asked innocently, sitting down beside him.
“I heard you before you started walking heavily.”
“Such incredible hearing you have—but it is one of your only senses left.”
“You’re very good at turning my words around.”
“Because it’s so easy to do,” she said sweetly.
He smiled and shook his head, and she felt some of her nervousness leave. He was a man, and she had always thought she understood men. But then she’d never dealt so personally with her gentleman callers. She let herself admire his fair hair, and those masculine dimples that were made for laughter. When pleasure tensed and curled inside her, she tried to put it aside. Was she making everything worse?
“So are you really going to sit here and just listen?” she asked, wondering at his true motives.
“Why not? My sister plays well. And how can you be upset that I’m here? I’m not hiding from my family, as you feared.”
She winced at his sarcasm. “You could sing.”
“She doesn’t need me to. In fact, she doesn’t need you singing either.”
Frowning at him, she wished she could read the expression in his eyes. But there was none. She hadn’t realized how much she understood people by that alone—and how much he must miss the ability.
“And why shouldn’t I sing?” she asked.
“Because you sing quite…passionately.” His voice had deepened. “And I don’t mean with emotion.”
She was relieved that he couldn’t see her shock. “Passionately? My lord, that song was about a shepherd girl tending her flock!”
