Page 73 of Tempting the Highland Spy
Turning, they faced the source of the sound. A short, middle-aged man with a gleaming pate and an awkward half grin stood in the doorway, clutching a violin in his hand.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, clearing his throat for effect. “I’d thought to have a few minutes in a quiet space to tune my instrument. I’ll be on my way.”
The color had drained from Grace’s cheeks. Harrison reached for her, clasping her hand in his. As his fingers coiled around hers, she seemed to relax.
“No, we’re the ones who should be going,” Harrison said.
“We’re newlyweds, you see,” Grace added, fashioning an endearing smile.
“I can see that,” the violinist said with a good-natured tone. “The ball will be over soon enough. Then you can make your escape.”
“I’d appreciate your discretion,” Harrison said.
“Of course.” The violinist grinned broadly. “Believe me, I’ve seen far more scandalous sights. I was a newly married man once, two decades ago. Those were the days. Make the most of them while you can.”
