A Passion for Pleasure(89)
She had committed those acts because she wanted to protect him from her father’s wrath. Instead he had joined her on the very pursuit she feared would result in his ruination.
“Do you forgive her?” Clara whispered in a voice so soft she thought he would not hear her.
Sebastian slid his gaze to her, his eyes lacking the warmth to which Clara had become so accustomed.
“I forgive her,” he said, “but I do not expect to ever see her again.”
By the light of the moon, the grounds of Floreston Manor spread around the house like an ocean surrounding a ship. Trees stood around the property like soldiers guarding the land, pointing forked branches toward the dark sky.
Upon their arrival after the long train ride, Sebastian explained to the resident servants, a housekeeper, and a cook, that he, Clara, and Andrew would be staying for the next couple of days. The housekeeper hurriedly arranged for two maids to come from the village and help with the preparations. After a flurry of activity, even Sebastian managed to sleep a bit in the early morning hours following their hasty flight.
He woke to sunlight glistening on the still-damp grounds and windowpanes. He washed and dressed, then descended the stairs. Clara’s voice drifted from the dining room, where she was apparently in conversation with the housekeeper.
Sebastian diverted his steps to the drawing room. Her betrayal coiled inside him, hard and tight, seething beneath his simmering anger. Not even the familiarity of the manor, the place where he had passed many happy hours with his brothers and sister, eased the pain of her disloyalty.
A protective cloth covered the grand piano that dominated the drawing room. Sebastian pulled the cloth from the front of the piano and draped it across the lid.
He pushed the bench back and sat, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension knotting his spine. How often had he played this piano over the years? The last time had been in the spring, when he’d come here with Alexander, Lydia, Rushton, Talia, and their friend Lord Castleford.
Sebastian rubbed his right hand, remembering with a touch of fondness the genial atmosphere of that weekend visit. He’d played a great deal of Mozart, whose music was among Talia’s favorites.
He pushed up the fallboard to expose the shiny black-and-white keys and trailed his left hand over them. He played a sequence from Mozart’s Sonata No. 15, the left-handed pattern sustaining harmonies from pale to vivid yellow. After the notes faded, Sebastian played them again. And again. And again. An unexpected flash of light went through him, the crackle of energy incited by music.
He played the sequence twice more before a movement at the door caught his eye. Andrew hovered just inside the room, a book clutched in his arms.
“Come in,” Sebastian said. “Have you ever played the piano?”
Andrew shook his head. En route to Floreston Manor, Clara had explained to her son that she and Sebastian were married, but the revelation had prompted no outward response from the boy. In fact, he hadn’t spoken a word.
“Come here, then,” Sebastian invited.
The boy approached with caution, his eyes darting to the keys.
“Put your hands like this.” Sebastian guided Andrew onto the bench and spread his hands on the keys. “This key is called middle C. If you put your thumb on middle C, you can use your other fingers to play D, E, F, and G.”
He watched Andrew press the keys and listen to the notes, and then he put his right hand on the keyboard. “Do you know the song ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’?”
Andrew nodded. Willing his hand to cooperate, Sebastian played the first few notes and sang the accompanying lyrics. “It starts with your third finger on this key, E. Try just those three notes. Down, then up again.”
He straightened as Andrew placed his fingers on the correct keys and played the simple melody.
“Then the second ‘little lamb’ is right next door on this key, which is D.” Sebastian played the note three times. “Do you hear how the sound is a bit lower?”
Andrew put his hand on the keyboard again and played the melody, ending with D. Sebastian then showed him the third ‘little lamb’ on the G key. The instruction came back to him with surprising ease, and a distinct pleasure wound through him when Andrew played the first line correctly.
“Good.” Sebastian straightened, glancing at the boy’s face. “Did your grandfather provide any music lessons for you?”
Andrew shook his head and concentrated on pressing the G key. He looked toward the door as Clara entered. She paused a short distance from the piano, a shadow of uncertainty passing across her features. Sebastian flexed his fingers and tried to temper the anger toward her that had smoldered inside him for the past day.