Sophie's Voice (Sex and the Season 4) - Page 5

“Cam can give you a ride in when he goes to the theatre tomorrow,” Rose said.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re no bother.”

Sophie shook her head. “Why am I talking about this as if I’m going to do it?”

Ally smiled. “Because, dear Sophie, you are the finest lady I know, one who would always pay her debts. And I’m afraid you lost a bet to me, and payment of your debt to me is to audition for Mr. Newland tomorrow.”

“I…” Sophie looked away. Ally might have tricked her, but she had fallen for it. “Fine. I shall audition for Mr. Newland. But I know I will fall flat on my face, so can you all promise me one small thing?”

“Of course,” Rose said. “What?”

“Once I make a fool of myself at this audition, can we please never speak of me singing in public again?”

CHAPTER TWO

Sophie gulped. The scone she had forced down at breakfast had tasted like sawdust, and now it was threatening to reappear. Rose’s husband, Cameron, had driven her into Bath this morning for the auditions. Cameron was the composer for the Regal Theatre and spent his time at his townhome in Bath during the theatre season. The upcoming musicale was an original work written by Cameron, and he had told Sophie during the drive to Bath that she was perfect for the leading female role.

Not possible. A woman who vomited on stage couldn’t be perfect for anything.

Before Sophie knew what was happening, Cameron had ushered her through the lobby of the theatre, around a few winding hallways, to an office.

She gaped. A man stood behind a desk reading a news journal. Auburn hair graced his shoulders, and his light brown eyes glowed. He was splendid, with exotic looks that she might not have considered classically handsome had they belonged to anyone else. But this man? Oh, how they worked. Her heart beat rapidly.

Zachary Newland. She had actually seen the gifted actor perform once nearly a year ago as Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Then he had been costumed as a wood elf, a wreath of twigs on his head and his glorious chest bare. His acting had been so true to character that she had begun to think of him as a wood sprite, despite his immense and golden masculinity.

Not so anymore. The man was not as tall as her stepfather or brother-in-law, Evan, but his presence filled the room. Broad shoulders were clad in only a billowy-sleeved white blouse that belonged several centuries ago. Tight britches gloriously hugged his hips and thighs. Her heart nearly stopped. The man belonged on a pirate ship, carrying a maiden down to his quarters—a maiden with blond hair and hazel eyes. The image came alive in her mind, and the maiden had Sophie’s own face.

“Newland, I’d like you to meet my wife’s cousin, Lady Sophie MacIntyre,” Cameron said.

Sophie looked up, her pirate vision vanishing. Cameron had been speaking, introducing her. Open your mouth, Sophie. Say something.

“It is indeed my pleasure, my lady.” Zach put down the paper, walked around his desk, and offered his hand. “Thornton, here, speaks highly of you and your talent.”

Sophie warmed from her hair follicles down to the tips of her toes. Surely she was turning beet red. She held out her hand limply. Mr. Newland took it in his own, raised it to his lips, and brushed a light kiss over it.

Sophie squirmed. Her skin erupted in tingles, and new sensations skittered within her. What was going on?

“It is indeed my pleasure, sir.” She drew her hand away.

“Cameron tells me this is your first audition.”

Sophie nodded.

“We’ll try to make it easy on you,” Mr. Newland said. “Cam will be right there, playing the pianoforte for you. What will you be singing for us today?”

Sophie held out the wrinkled paper she had been clenching in her hand. She willed herself not to stammer. “‘Deh Vieni, Non Tardar.’ Susanna’s aria from The Marriage of Figaro. By Mozart.”

“Yes, yes, quite familiar with it. A beautiful piece. Let’s go out into the theatre, and we will begin your audition. I hope you don’t mind. I’m doing auditions in the theatre this time instead of the green room.”

Green room? No need to show him what a novice she truly was. She nodded. “That’s fine.”

“I want to hear everyone with the theatre’s acoustics. Just give your music to Thornton.”

The paper rustled quietly as she handed it to Cameron.

“Don’t be nervous,” Cameron whispered as they left the office. “I’ve asked him to let you audition first so you don’t have to sit around all day and wait. I have to stay for the duration, though, so I’ll hire a hansom cab to drive you back to the estate.”

Tags: Helen Hardt Sex and the Season Erotic
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