“What a wonderful idea, Chelsea. I should imagine Alexander and Miss Charlotte will make a wonderful couple—” Alexander opened his mouth to protest, but Stewart said, “of musicians, I mean.”
Alexander glanced over at Miss Charlotte. Her cheeks were flaming red, and she glared in anger at Chelsea. It was this, in truth, that helped him decide. This amusing reaction of hers that drove him to slap his knees as he stood. He enjoyed tauntingher, playing with her, and if she were truthful with herself, she enjoyed it too.
“I say it’s an excellent idea,” he said and made his way over to thepiano fortein the corner of the room.
Miss Charlotte swivel ed her body as she stared at him, mouth open aghast as though he had somehow betrayed her. He looked back with a grin, raising his eyebrows and daring her to say no. Her jaw bobbed up and down as she tried to find a way out of it, and that only served to make her all the more alluring.
Oh to run my tongue over those lips of hers. To explore her body and all its cavities.
Alexander put his fingers to the keys and began to tinkle, playing random little melodies to encourage her. She looked at Chelsea then turned back to him and sighed.
“Very well. If you are all so very keen to hear me sing, then I shall sing.”
“It will probably work better if you go and stand near the duke,” Chelsea said, earning herself another sharp look from Miss Charlotte and a fair chuckle from the rest of the room.
They both understood Chelsea’s intentions perfectly, but while it infuriated Miss Charlotte, it only amused Alexander.
“Yes,” he called. “Stand nearer the piano.”
She marched over somewhat petulantly. “Do you know The Last Rose of Summer, at least?” she asked.
“Doesn’t everyone?” he asked, and he began to play without taking his eyes from Charlotte herself.
His gaze remained on the shape of her lips as she opened her mouth. He wondered what they would feel like against his chest, his neck. As his fingers worked the keys, he imagined he was working her, driving her desire to higher and higher octaves.
But then she began to sing, and the noise that she produced was nothing short of angelic. Chelsea was right, she was a magnificent singer. Charlotte began low, her voice husky and sensual, but as the song came to a crescendo, the hairs on Alexander’s neck stood on end. The power from her lungs was incredible, and he imagined making her moan in such a way.
When the song came to an end, the room fell into an astonished pause, Miss Charlotte catching her breath and Alexander blinking at her in astonishment. Together, they had made the most beautiful music, such as he’d never been able to do with any other singer. And now her chest rose and fell with her heavy breasts, making her bosom heave.
After a second or two, Stewart and Chelsea erupted into an applause.
“My goodness,” Chelsea exclaimed. “That is the best I’ve ever heard you sing yet.”
“You really do make quite the pair,” Stewart said.
Miss Charlotte’s expression was one of panic, and Alexander wondered why. Did she really despise him so much that she couldn’t even enjoy the compliment? She glanced at them then at Alexander.
“Perhaps,” she replied. “But it really has exhausted me now. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll retire.”
“Oh.” Chelsea pouted with disappointment. “But we were enjoying ourselves so much, and we shan’t be alone for much longer. I had word that Mother and Father arrive tomorrow.”
“Well, it will be nice to see aunty,” Stewart declared, “even if it has been fun, just the four of us pretending to be grown-ups.”
“Perhaps a little guardianship will do us good,” Miss Charlotte said, glancing once more at Alexander. “It is strange to be without a chaperone.”
Stewart snorted. “It has been a long time since I have not been considered good enough to be chaperone. We are not reckless children, Miss Charlotte.”
“Speak for yourself,” Alexander muttered, though he was thinking of Charlotte again, of her abandon at the lake.
Is it me she does not trust? Or herself?
“Though I must admit,” Alexander continued, getting up from the piano stool and stretching with an exaggerated yawn, “I am also rather tired. I shall see you all bright and early for breakfast.”
“You shall see me at noon and no earlier,” Stewart laughed as Alexander made his way out of the room.
It wasn’t, of course, that he was tired. Rather, he hoped to catch Miss Charlotte on her way to her own bedchamber. He made his way out of the main corridor and hid in an alcove, waiting for her. He knew he shouldn’t. She’d probably be furious with him. But he couldn’t resist.
Time stretched. It seemed forever before she appeared. He wondered idly, while he hid there in the dark, whether she was intentionally avoiding him. But then she finally appeared, and he stepped out from the alcove in front of her.
