Page 78 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
It was purposefully set up the way a tavern musician would have it. Although Veronica’s coin was in the tankard now, whenever the artist played once again, villagers would be welcome to provide gratitude in the form of coins.
Her fingers settled over the pianoforte keys, her upper body almost bowing towards the instrument as if it was a dance partner, someone who would hold her while they swayed to a symphony.
Henry watched, enraptured, as she began.
She is pure magic, Henry thought as her fingers danced expertly over the keys.
And that is how it felt: like magic, flowing over the heads of the villagers as she played for them. Her performance was brief, and when it was over, she stood and announced who she would sponsor.
It was a boy of five and ten who had played a lyre, hauntingly beautiful. Veronica presented him with the coin in the tankard, and he began to play his own tune. She poured her coins into the tankard before returning to her seat.
“You played beautifully.” Henry’s mouth dipped to her ear. “But I confess, I could not help myself being distracted by those deft fingers. Might you play me, and produce a pleasurable symphony, the way you played the pianoforte?”
Veronica gazed at him, and he grinned.
“Do not pretend to be scandalized.”
“I am merely taken aback by the boldness of your request.”
“And I more interested in your answer.”
His fingertips grazed her shoulder, slipping just inside the sleeve of her dress. “I wish to dine with you at the inn we are staying at, and then I intend to pleasure you until you can no longer remember your own name.”
Veronica’s breath caught. He felt her go taut beneath him. A delicious shiver passed through her.
Henry held out his hand. “Come. I am famished.”
“And you threwmudat him?”
“Oh, yes,” Henry laughed, drinking his wine. “He was an insufferable little creature. Each summer, I would visit my uncle in the countryside, in Westley Manor, when I was only heir to the Sheridan title, and I would be forced to play nice with my cousin. The poor man died at sea some years back, but that is beside the point.”
Despite himself, he could not help sniggering. Perhaps it was the wine that loosened him.
“My cousin, Gregory, always had a particular trick he would play on me, and I still have not figured out how he would do it. But he would put a bucket of water atop a door and have it balancing so that when I walked into the room, it would tip all over me. One time, I got quite annoyed and exhausted of his foolish trick, so I marched right outside to where he rode his horse, gathered a handful of wet mud, and flung it at him.”
Veronica’s laugh was brighter than any music he had heard that day, and Henry found himself wanting more of it.
“He would have made a terrible duke,” Henry snorted.
Veronica covered her mouth, incredulous. “You do not miss him?”
“It may sound cold to say, but I did not truly know him. My father was too reserved with my family, so I only saw him for that brief week in the summer season. Otherwise, we did not share any time. When I heard of his death, I thought it was tragic since he died so young. And after that, I remembered that he was the heir of Westley.”
“Until it came to you.”
He nodded slowly. “Until it came to me.”
“And your uncle? The former Duke? What was he like?”
“Ah, well, as you have seen, he was rather eccentric. He threw balls at every opportunity he could. His wife shared his tastes, but she passed away when Gregory was a young boy. My uncle became lonely which was why he threw so many balls. He wanted Gregory and me to be closer but knew that his own brother, my father, prevented that. Perhaps we would have been otherwise.”
Henry shrugged, recalling his cousin’s sniveling face. He had been a cocky man, even in his twenties. Still, he had not deserved such a terrible death at sea.
“I did grieve my uncle. Greatly,” Henry added. Then he finished the remainder of his wine. “But enough of this chatter. Grief has darkened enough corners.”
He could see questions flitting over her face, and he could only hope she would not ask. After a moment, as if thinking better of it, Veronica indeed dropped any notion of asking her questions.
“Besides,” Henry dropped his voice lower, “I would much rather discuss how I am going to please my wife tonight.”
