“Mr Bellham loved hearing ladies play the pianoforte,” Miss Harper said, sounding surprisingly sincere. “He was always the first to come to a lady’s aid when she needed help turning the sheets.”
“More often than not Mr Bellham wasn’t looking at the sheets,” Miss Pardue mocked.
Fearing the earl might lose his temper, Lara said, “If Mr Bellham loved music, then I shall play a piece in his memory.”
Lord Denham glanced at her and smiled. “Only if you want to, Miss Bennett. I appreciate your offer more than your ability to master the keys.”
Any daughter of Clara Bennett couldn’t help but appreciate music. Lara’s playing had been the one thing to lift her grandfather’s spirits in those early days when grief was all-consuming.
“Haydn’s early works are difficult to play, Miss Bennett.” Miss Harper looked smug. “They require great precision. Everyone will notice the flaws.”
Lara smiled and straightened h
er shoulders. “I never play from sheet music, Miss Harper. I compose my own pieces and prefer to play those.”
Miss Harper’s ugly grin faded. “Oh, well, we all like a country tune now and then. What a shame we’ve not welcomed in the tenants to hear your little ditty.”
Lara ignored the lady’s veiled set-down. She accepted Lord Denham’s arm, and he guided her to the polished mahogany and rosewood pianoforte.
“Play with heart, Miss Bennett, that’s all I ask.”
She sat on the stool and adjusted her position. “Is there any other way to play, my lord?”
“Help me forget this whole miserable affair as only you know how.”
Pushing aside a sudden flurry of nerves, she inhaled deeply and flexed her fingers. As always when she played those songs that reminded her of her parents, she soon forgot the other people in the room. There were times during the piece that she felt the powerful rush of true love’s kiss. Times when the tempo turned introspective, and the sadness of separation drew her down into the deep vibrating notes as heavy as her heart. But life went on, and the complementing harmonies and lively rhythm spoke of an eternal love that existed beyond this earthly plane.
When she hit the last note, she dashed a tear from her eye and glanced up.
Lord Denham stood by the fireside, his muscular arms folded across his chest, his penetrating gaze fixed on her face. A smile curled the corners of his mouth while an unexplained emotion swam in his eyes. She wanted to lose herself in those alluring blue pools, dive deep into their fathomless depths.
Lord Northcott approached the pianoforte. He captured Lara’s hand in the sly way rakes do when they struggle to suppress licentious thoughts. “Your talent is exceptional, Miss Bennett. You play with a passion surprising for one so young and delicate.”
Lara retrieved her hand from the wolf’s grasp. “Not so delicate, my lord.” She leaned closer and whispered, “You haven’t a chance of bedding me, not here, not ever.” She straightened. “Forgive me if I misread the signs. But I know a scoundrel when I see one.”
“Then you know scoundrels always rise to the challenge.” The viscount laughed until Lord Denham approached and clasped the man’s shoulder in a firm grip. While it appeared a friendly gesture, Lara noted Lord Denham’s rigid jaw and the murderous glare in his eyes.
“Miss Bennett surpassed our expectations.” The earl directed his comment to Lord Northcott. “Though one wonders why Miss Venables is staring at you like she might tear you limb from limb. Indeed, her fiery red hair reflects her hot temper.”
The viscount glanced over his shoulder and snorted. “Am I to blame if the hired help finds herself a little in love with me?”
Judging by Miss Venables’ flushed cheeks and ugly sneer, the viscount had encouraged the woman’s infatuation. Perhaps Mr Bellham had threatened to inform Miss Harper, for she seemed oblivious to the disdainful daggers thrown by her paid companion.
“A man of your position should know better,” the earl countered. “Though let us say no more on the matter in front of Miss Bennett.”
Indeed, no one had a chance to discuss it further. Miss Harper strolled over. With reluctance, she congratulated Lara on her ability to rouse emotion in the hearts of those who’d listened. Apparently, even Lady Denham had shed a tear.
“Now, as no one is capable of following Miss Bennett’s performance, I think it’s time to make use of the mistletoe.” Miss Harper toyed with her brown ringlets and batted her lashes at Lord Denham. “I’ve never seen a sprig with so many berries.”
“Mistletoe is meant for couples who wish to steal secret kisses,” the earl replied. “No one here falls into that category.”
“Oh, come, my lord. What better way to test compatibility than to press your lips to a maiden’s cheek? Such an intimate gesture is sure to stir something in your chest.” Miss Harper gave a half laugh. “Come, it’s just a silly Christmas game. Something to distract our minds from the dastardly deed committed yesterday.”
“Well, you can count me in,” the viscount drawled, offering Lara a wily wink. “I’m rather skilled when it comes to spreading Christmas cheer.”
Before the earl could protest, Miss Harper turned to the guests and, with childish excitement that seemed wholly uncharacteristic, clapped her hands and told them all to line up ready for the game. Of course, she sold the idea to Lady Denham by informing the countess that such frivolity was necessary if the earl had any hope of making his choice.
“We don’t need to pick the berries.” Miss Harper lined the ladies up to form a queue at the drawing room door. Miss Venables was permitted to take Miss Mason-Jones’ place when the lady burst into tears again and raced from the room. “Perhaps Lord Denham might like to pick one and present it as a token of his esteem.”