Page 21 of His Forsaken Duchess
Her hands stilled on the keys, and the last note hung in the air before fading into silence.
Before he could stop himself, he spoke, “You play beautifully.”
The Duchess started, turning her head sharply to look at him. Her expression shifted from surprise to neutrality, though a flicker of something softer lingered in her eyes.
“Duke,” she said, “I didn’t hear you.”
“Clearly,” he replied, stepping into the room. “You were rather absorbed.”
Her lips quirked up, the faintest hint of amusement in her expression. “I thought I was alone.”
“So did I,” he said, his voice clipped, though his gaze remained on her.
She arched an eyebrow, her hands resting lightly on the keys. “Have I disturbed you?”
“You might say that,” he muttered, his eyes flicking to the pianoforte. “I didn’t know that you played.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me, Duke,” she said lightly, turning her attention back to the instrument.
“That much is obvious.” Cedric stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back. “Do you play often?”
“When I have the opportunity,” she replied. “It’s a rare moment of peace.”
“Peace,” he echoed dryly. “And yet here you are, disrupting mine.”
She tilted her head slightly, the corners of her mouth quirking up. “I find that hard to believe. Surely, Duke, you do not allow a bit of music to unsettle you.”
He furrowed his brow. “This castle has lived in silence for years. Your arrival has changed that.”
“Is that such a terrible thing?” she asked, her voice softening.
Cedric looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “The servants seem to think not. They are utterly bewitched by you.”
The Duchess let out a small laugh, leaning slightly against the pianoforte. “They’re kind. That’s all.”
“They are insufferably cheerful,” he countered. “This castle was not built for such… levity.”
She straightened, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance. “Perhaps it’s time it was.”
The remark struck a nerve, and his jaw tightened. “You presume much, Duchess.”
“And you say very little, Duke,” she retorted, her voice calm.
Silence fell between them, tense and electric. The fire crackled in the hearth, the sound filling the space as they stared at each other. Cedric’s thoughts churned, caught between admiration for her poise and the nagging desire to send her away.
“Good night, Duke,” the Duchess said at last, her tone polite as she rose gracefully from the bench. She dipped into a shallow curtsy, her gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.
He inclined his head stiffly. “Good night, Duchess.”
She turned and walked toward the door, her skirts brushing softly against the floor. The scent of her perfume lingered in her wake, faint but persistent.
Cedric remained where he stood, watching the door click shut behind her. He exhaled slowly, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
She was captivating, infuriating, and entirely too present in his thoughts.
I need her gone.
Six
