Page 71 of Ironvine

“She did. She was very good. In fact, she taught me.”

“You play? How wonderful. Would you play for me?”

His teeth dragged along his lower lip. “I’ve never played for anyone before.”

“Consider it a wedding night gift for your bride.”

His lips parted as if to say something, something saucy, she was sure of it, but he thought better of it and went to the instrument. Music filled the room as he played a vibrant composition. His body relaxed as he brought the vivid melody to life. Her lips parted, a shiver sliding around her neck as she listened, as she watched him play. He enjoyed it, and he was good, and he was doing it for her, offering her this private piece of himself.

She went over and sat next to Charles on the bench. “You, sir, play exceedingly well.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” His long fingers danced over the keys without missing a single note.

“I won’t. Our secret.”

He finished the piece, his gaze remaining on the keyboard for a moment. Where had he gone? “I haven’t played in quite some time actually,” he murmured.

“Thank you for my gift.” She kissed him on the cheek.

He dipped his head, a small smile curving his lips. A gentle smile, which made her insides melt. “My pleasure, Countess. Now tell me, where do your talents and accomplishments lay? Needlepoint? Languages?” He played another, slower, more dramatic piece.

“Oh no, no.” She let out a soft laugh. “I quite enjoy sketching and drawing.”

“Wonderful. You must show me your work.”

“All my sketchbooks and paintings are at Fairthorn. All my belongings are there—clothes, sentimental objects that my father left me, everything. I’d like to go to my brother’s house and fetch my things, only I’m sure I’m not welcome there at present.”

“We shall do that on the morrow then. I shall write to Thomas, telling him we would like to come collect your things.”

“I would like that very much.”

The clock struck a late hour, and he finished playing. “Shall we retire?”

“Yes,” she breathed, barely recognising her own voice.

Rising from the pianoforte, he held out his hand to her, and she placed her hand in his. He took one of the many lit candelabra, and they climbed the staircase together, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. Her breath deepened as they finally reached the dark upper landing.

“There are so very many rooms here. I think it would take me days and days to acquaint myself with them all,” she said to fill the silence.

“Yes, there are. These here in the centre were meant for the King when he would visit back in the glorious days of yore.” He directed her down the East hallway where their chambers were.

“I had the Lord’s chamber fully cleaned and redecorated for Hugh, but he never had a chance to use it. Now it’s mine.” He opened the door to his bedchamber, and they walked through.

“I hope you had decorated according to your tastes and not to Hugh’s.”

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I did, in fact.”

She entered the Earl’s bedchamber. Her husband’s bedchamber. The long dark curtains at the windows, and the dark green and gold patterned wall coverings were sumptuous and very masculine. She came to a stop before a great canopied bed of elaborately carved wood bedecked with drapes, a thick coverlet, and large pillows. It seemed to tower over her. Her teeth dragged across her lip as her hands folded together. Her new life as the Countess of Ryvves was now truly beginning.

He placed the candelabra on a table, and the gold and green and polished wood of the furnishings glowed around them.“Georgina, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This is new for both of us and—”

“Not new for you.”

“But it is. I have never before been married.”

Georgina stilled. A piece of her heart melted like the tapers on the candelabra. That he felt that this moment between them was different, beyond all the other relations with women he’d ever had before, stunned her. “Yes, true,” she said on a soft laugh.

“I don’t want you to feel anxious or obligated to—”

---