A Gentleman Never Tells(84)



Everyone had remained alert and attentive during the first hour, but when it stretched far into the second, she started hearing coughs, clearing of throats, and scooting of chairs. Still she didn’t rise. Beside her, Brent remained the perfect gentleman, seldom moving, and listening as if he was enjoying every moment. Occasionally, she would glance over at him to see if he were sleeping, because someone near her was snoring. When she couldn’t take the boredom any longer, she rose and went to stand by the pianoforte, waiting for Mr. Murray to finish the score.

She started clapping, and all her guests rose and started clapping joyously, too. After Mr. Murray took his bow, she asked her aunt to lead everyone into the dining room for the champagne and the buffet. Brent was the only one who didn’t exit the room quickly. He waited patiently until Mr. Murray had finished talking to her and left the room, leaving them completely alone.

Brent stood in front of her and looked as if he was holding back a smile. That didn’t bode well. She had hoped to see anger, or at the very least strong annoyance at having to sit through such a dreadful recital. Her father would have been steaming with rage.

She clasped her hands together under her chin, smiled, and said, “Did you think he was divine, a true master at the pianoforte?”

Brent walked a little closer to her. “Did you think so?”

Not wanting to add another fib to her long and growing list, she took a step back and answered, “Don’t you?”

“I’ve heard better pianists, Gabrie,” he said and advanced on her again.

Gabrielle took another step back and hit the side of the pianoforte. She was trapped. “There was much applause. I’m certain everyone loved Mr. Murray’s interpretation of so many of their favorite scores.”

“I’m certain the reason they clapped so long and loud was because it was finally over and they could stand up and get something to eat and drink.”

“I’m sure you are unjustly embellishing everyone’s reaction.”

He bent his head closer to hers and said, “No, Gabrie, I’m not.”

She looked at his lips and had the urge to moisten her own. Whenever he was close to her, she always wanted him to kiss her. “Perhaps we should join everyone else for the buffet.”

“Oh, yes,” he said with a knowing smile and moved his face even closer to hers. “I’m quite eager to go into the dining room and greet everyone. You’ve managed to invite some of my favorite people—the insipid Lord Waldo, the crafty Sir Randolph, and the braggart Count Vigone. I’m surprised you didn’t invite Lord Snellingly, too.”

“Oh, I did,” she said quickly. “But he didn’t come.”

“No doubt he was the only one who’d heard the pianist play before.”

“But I also invited your brothers and several young ladies for them to meet and have wonderful conversation with them.”

“The young ladies who are here are so charming, my brothers are probably already hoping they will never be on one of your guest lists again.”

He was so close, her breathing became choppy. She desperately wanted him to kiss her, knowing it would be madness for him to do it here in her home where anyone could walk in at any time. She searched his eyes and couldn’t read their depths, but she wondered why there was no real anger in them. Why couldn’t she seem to do anything that made him fiercely angry or even mildly upset with her?

“Are you chiding me or teasing me, my lord?” she asked.

“Neither. I’m thinking about kissing you. After what you just put me through, I believe I deserve a kiss or two, don’t you?”

She spread her arms out to her sides, grasped hold of the pianoforte, and leaned her weight against it. Oh, yes, that was what she wanted from him.

But she said, “You can’t do that. Someone might walk in and see you, and there would be more scandal.”

He placed his fingertips under her chin and tilted her head back, lifting her lips to his, and whispered, “I have no fear of that, Gabrie. Your guests’ throats are dry, their stomachs empty, and their rumps tired of sitting. I’m sure they are devouring the buffet, swilling the champagne, and praying they won’t see you so they don’t have to lie to you and tell you they enjoyed the evening.”

She swallowed hard. “Please don’t feel you have to spare my feelings, my lord.”

He smiled. “I don’t have to. You knew exactly what you were doing, just as I’m more than willing right now to take my chances on another scandal.”

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