Chapter Three
The beautiful and alluring Osanne gave him another softly captivating smile. “What, pray tell, do you do between visiting your former comrades-at-arms?”
“Hmm.” When was the last time he indulged in a true diversion?
“I haven’t indulged in a while, but I enjoy exploring ruins—crumbling old castles, Roman remnants, that sort of thing.
And I enjoy history, origins of all kinds—buildings, stately homes, words.
” He smiled. “Names. What about you? Favorite diversions?”
“I have always adored long rambles, dancing, and playing the pianoforte.”
He pictured himself going on some of those long rambles with her, dancing with her in his arms, sitting close to her on the bench of a pianoforte while she played. “Why did you choose the pianoforte?”
“Well, I wanted to learn the bagpipes but my mother said they were too loud.” She affected an expression of disappointment, but the sly, playful glint in her dark eyes overrode it.
He chuckled. “They aren’t all that loud...from a hundred feet away.”
In a dreamy voice, she said, “’Twould be lovely to hear them played in the middle of a highland moor by a Scottish lad in a kilt.” Her longing smile filled him with the desire to make her wish come true.
“Perhaps you will someday,” he said.
Her enigmatic expression left him with more questions, but she asked the next one. “Have you found any ruins to explore in this area?”
“I’ve only just arrived this eve. Do you know of any?”
“There were some old Roman ruins, just there.” She gestured behind the Great House.
“There were old Roman ruins?”
“I’m uncertain if they still exist, or if the new residents—” she gestured to the manor— “had them removed or plowed over. Not everyone appreciates history.”
“That’s true. Sometimes when I talk about history or ruins, it’s all some people can do to avoid yawning.”
“’Tis a shame.”
“Are you telling me if I described to you all about the last place I visited, you wouldn’t yawn, not even once?”
She held up her hand in a solemn pledge. “I give you my word.”
Just to test her, he launched into a detailed account of an ancient fortress he visited the previous year, and all the research he had done to learn of its past. True to her word, Osanne never once looked bored nor close to yawning.
She listened attentively as if she truly found his topic interesting.
Was it possible she found him interesting as well?
He ended with, “It’s a pity so little is known of that old place.”
“Indeed, it is,” she readily agreed. “Perhaps you might find more information in a library.”
“That was my thought as well, but the information I found was limited. Have you explored the ruins nearby?”
“Indeed I have, but not for many years. Oh, and there is a henge on the hill just to the north of the Great House.”
“Henges are fascinating. I’ve visited several. A pity we’ll never know who built them or for what purpose.”
They discussed several theories about their uses and origins. She tilted her head. “What else do you do when you aren’t exploring ancient sites?”
He paused. “You always seem to turn the conversation back to me. Is there some reason you don’t wish to talk about yourself?”
A rueful smile turned her mouth upward. “I haven’t led such an interesting life as you.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
With a mysterious smile curving her lips, she spread her hands. “What do you wish to know?”
“Everything. I know little of you. You play the pianoforte, you have no love for bugs, and you wish to hear the bagpipes played on the moor by a kilted Scotsman.” He deliberately avoided mentioning that she had no family and was now quite alone.
She shrugged. “I was born here in Madding Hollow, and I never left. I have never visited London or Bath or the seashore or anywhere.”
“Do you still live in your childhood home?”
“No, not any longer.”
It would be unseemly to ask where she lived; one did not ask such a question of young ladies.
Though she enchanted him, he may not have endeared himself to her so completely.
Nor would it do to ask if she were independent or had found some source of employment.
But why all the secrecy? Perhaps his earlier assessment of her being reticent was correct.
The strains of a pianoforte rang out into the night, drawing their attention to the room at the manor house he had spotted earlier filled with musical instruments.
One of the large windows must have been left open for the breeze to carry the tones so easily.
A beginner pounded away at the keys. Osanne winced, then her expression softened.
“It’s a child.” She indicated with her chin. “More enthusiasm than training, but such spirit will take her far.”
A voice rang out through the night air, “Oh, Molly, for Heaven’s sake. I thought....never mind. Quit that racket and go to the nursery.”
Through the windows of the well-lit music room across a lawn from them, Rafe watched a child reluctantly stand from the pianoforte.
She left with the disapproving guardian and the door closed behind them.
Rafe turned his attention back to Osanne.
She stared longingly at the house. Or was it at the pianoforte?
“I would very much enjoy hearing you play,” Rafe said.
“I love music. It was always my solace when I was overset, my friend when I felt lonely, and my celebration when I was joyous.”
He stood and held out a hand. “There is an instrument which is unused at the moment, and unlikely to be for the remainder of the evening.”
Her eyes opened wide as if he’d just suggested something scandalous—which he had. Entering someone’s home uninvited was beyond the pale. But not the worst thing he ever did. It would probably be the worst thing she ever did, if she accepted his suggestion.
Shaking her head, she laughed. “I daresay it might be considered trespassing if we were to go into the main house.”
“Are we not trespassing already?” he taunted.
“Yes, ‘tis true, but here we are far less likely to be discovered.”
“I’m feeling a bit daring tonight.” He raised his brows in what he hoped was an invitation.
Still, she hesitated. “It might go badly if we are discovered inside.”
He nodded. “True. As a stranger to this area, I might seem more menacing. We could close the windows and doors once we’re inside the music room so the notes don’t carry as much.
If someone does catch us, we’ll pretend we’re guests who wished for a moment away from the noise of the party.
” He held his hand out to her and wiggled his fingers. “Do you dare?”
She laughed. “Surely you jest.”
“Not at all. I wish to hear you indulge in something about which you are so passionate.”
A curve touched her lips as she glanced at the manor again and nodded.
Without taking his hand, she moved toward the exit.
Giddy as children, they ran across the lawn, laughing, toward the house.
After pausing to look around outside, she led him to a side entrance and moved confidently through the rooms which opened one into another.
Notes from a string quartet, the rumble of dozens of conversations, and occasional laughter created a backdrop for their adventure.
Avoiding the raucous drawing room where the ball took place, she led him to the music room.
“Close the window and draw the draperies,” she instructed as she moved silently to a far door.
While he did as she bade, she turned the key to lock the door. Voices from the other side of the door neared. He held his breath, both exhilarated and appalled at himself for daring to enter someone’s house uninvited. The voices passed by, leaving Rafe and his fellow trespasser undetected.
Osanne stood in front of the pianoforte as if she couldn’t quite believe she dared to enter this room.
Or perhaps she admired the exquisite instrument.
It certainly had no equal with its rich, dark wood and intricate carvings on its legs and the music stand.
Reverently, she ran her hands over the lid.
Without raising the lid over the harp of the instrument nor propping it up—probably so as to keep the volume to a minimum—she sat and placed her long slender fingers on the keys.
She waited a heartbeat before pressing a few keys to create a lovely chord. Hesitant at first, she played softly. Rafe held his breath.
After only a few bars, her confidence clearly grew and she played with the feeling and expertise of a virtuoso.
Rafe had attended enough concerts and musicales, not to mention his own lessons as a child, to know talent when he heard it.
He sat nearby, spellbound. The music, though unfamiliar, vibrated through him in sweet melancholy.
The last note rang out before silence fell.
“That was magnificent,” he whispered lest he break the spell.
She turned and gave him such a joyously beautiful smile that it took his breath away. “I wasn’t sure I could still do it.”
Before he responded, voices returned. “...heard the pianoforte again.” Footsteps also approached.
“I’ll see to it, ma’am,” came another voice.
Alarm shot through him. They were about to be caught.
This could go badly for Osanne, not only for sneaking into the village Great House, but being alone with a man.
Perhaps he would be forced to marry her to save her reputation.
The thought no longer terrified him as much as it should have.
He leaped to his feet, sifting through possible courses of action.
This insane idea had been all his. He must protect Osanne at all costs.
Where had she gone?
The door opened a crack and a matronly woman dressed as a housekeeper and carrying an array of keys on a ring peeked in. “Oh!” she came in all the way and gave him a brief once-over.
He turned on his most charming smile and said in his best drawing room voice, “Good evening, madam. I apologize if the music disturbed you.” He made a loose wave at the pianoforte.
He glanced about but saw no trace of Osanne.