Page 18 of Barbarous

* * *

The remainder of the meal passed noisily, and only the most basic conversation was possible with the din of Lady Amelia’s dogs waxing and waning depending on how much food she distributed.

“Shall we retire and leave you to your port?” Daphne asked when his aunt finished feeding her meal to the pugs and the dishes had been removed.

“I have no desire to converse with myself over a glass of port in this vast cavern of a room.” With only his annoying thoughts for company. “I noticed a rather nice piano in the music room. Do you play?”

“Yes, I do play.”

“Will you play for me, my lady?” Hugh knew he should stop provoking her blushes but he couldn’t resist.

“If you wish.”

He grinned at her quelling tone. “Excellent, it has been too long since I have enjoyed any music. Will you join us?” he asked his aunt.

Lady Amelia lowered her lobster fork, which she’d been using to clear an obstruction from between her teeth. “The pugs find loud noises excessively disturbing. I do hope you will close the music room door. I will bid you good evening.” Without another word, she stood and sailed from the room, barking dogs in tow.

“Thank God for that,” Hugh muttered after the door had shut behind her. He extended his arm to Daphne. “Is she your only company here at the Hall?” he asked as they walked to the music room, which was in the shortest wing of the E-shaped building.

“I would not call her company,” Daphne began, and then stopped. “That did not come out the way I intended.”

Hugh laughed. “I thought you showed remarkable restraint. What the devil was my uncle about, leaving you here with nobody for company but Aunt Amelia and her ill-behaved pugs? Do you not have any family or friends who could offer you some companionship in this great pile?” He opened the door to the music room and followed her inside.

She did not answer his question immediately. Hugh hadn’t known her long, but he could already see she did not speak rashly or foolishly—yet another thing about her that was attractive. So, too, the sweet rounded curve of her jaw, which he had been staring at over dinner and had an overwhelming desire to kiss. Or lick. Or bite. Or—

Hugh sighed. He was not looking forward to curbing his rampaging lust—nor did he suspect he would be any good at it. His impulsive behavior had been one of the many characteristics that had irritated and disappointed his uncle. Hugh had to admit it often got him into trouble, but it had also saved his life on more than one occasion.

“My mother was my only relation and I’m afraid my stepfather’s behavior mitigated against developing any friendships.” She shrugged, lifting the piano lid. “I am as much—if not more—to blame as Thomas for the lack of entertaining.” Color began building yet again in her cheeks. “Most of our neighbors were not comfortable with our marriage, as much as they tried to hide it.”

Hugh could imagine. “What about my family? We were never terribly close, but my aunt and cousins did occasionally visit.”

“Thomas said Amelia was enough for him to bear and too much interaction with Lady Letitia was fatiguing, so he rarely issued invitations to Lessing Hall.”

Hugh laughed. “I can’t argue with him there.”

She seated herself on the piano bench. “We went to London on occasion, but I am not inclined to fashionable pursuits and I prefer to spend my time with my sons, reading, or seeing to estate matters. My days feel very full to me.” She looked up. “Have you any preference in music?”

“I count Herr Beethoven as my favorite, but I will leave the choice to you.”

She riffled through the pile of sheet music until she found what she wanted.

“Shall I turn for you, my lady?”

“Please.”

The piece she chose was of recent vintage, Sonata quasi una fantasia, and her playing was superb. Hugh wasn’t surprised; she struck him as the type of person who would approach every activity or pursuit with intelligence and dedication.

He took the opportunity of standing so near to study her. Even up close she was flawless, with creamy skin and blond curls that set off her pale blue eyes to perfection. Her lower lip was deliciously full, a sensual counterpoint to her prim upper lip and aloof gaze. She was tall, willowy, and sylphlike and even the monstrous garment that swathed her from toes to neck could not hide her beautiful body. But she’d spoken the truth when she said she was not fashionable. Her spectacles, gravity, and natural dignity did not lend themselves to giggling, mincing, and frivolity. But while her exterior was that of a beautiful, untouchable ice queen, she burned as she played, her lithe hands plying the keys with erotic mastery that made his body hum with desire just watching. Watching and wanting those hands on his body.

Tendrils of her luxuriant hair had come loose as she played. Some spiraled wildly, glinting pale gold in the light, some lay damply against the exposed skin of her throat. Each time Hugh turned a page, he bent lower than necessary, breathing her in, inhaling her. She smelled clean, unper-fumed with anything but the vague scent of soap. Never had Hugh realized just how heady another human’s natural scent could be.

By the time the final notes came to a crashing conclusion, Hugh ached with the effort of holding his body in check. The cavernous music room was silent but felt crowded and small, the atmosphere heavy with a maelstrom of emotions he had no interest in examining.

Her arms trembled with the mere physicality of the past moments and a slight shudder passed through her, as if she’d just come out of a trance. She followed his hand—which rested on the piano—up to his face and blinked, surprised to find she wasn’t alone.

Hugh gazed into her heavily lidded eyes and was astounded by the violence of his need to touch her—embrace her. Instead, he took a small step back, even that much a struggle.

“You are magnificent,” he said, his voice hoarse. He took her hand and held it for an indecently long time while he drank her in. “I thank you for an enjoyable evening, Daphne. However, I believe the fatigue of a very long day has caught up with me,” he lied, kissing her fingers in a way he knew to be scandalous.