Read Online Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 04] - Love's Duet by Patricia Veryan - Free Book Online Page B

He always had a
cheery word for her, but too often she would find him staring into
space with a sad emptiness in his eyes. His boundless energy was gone,
and he seemed to lack all desire to return, however gradually, into the
society he had once so loved.
    Sophia thought wistfully of their earlier years. Such happy years…
Mama, joyful and proud of the children she adored;Papa, always good
natured; Stephen, brimming with vitality, constantly involved in some
madcap scheme and as constantly in hot water. During his Oxford years,
she had railed at him for his wildness, but he'd continued on his merry
way, ever the Corinthian. When his studies were over, they had ridden
together, hunted together, partied together. Steve had been amused by
her devastating effect upon his friends, proud of her popularity, but
horrified by her brief, early marriage. And then dear Papa had died
very suddenly, and Stephen had become the head of the family. The
Peninsula campaign had been raging in full fury, and, longing to go, he
had promised his grieving stepmother he would not do so. A year later,
Signor Bertolini had made Sophia his dazzling offer to join his family
in Italy for further studies. It had been Stephen who, knowing how
desperately she wanted to go, had ridden roughshod over her doubts and
practically carried her onto the packet. She could see him still,
standing on the dock, waving. Tall and strong and handsome. Her eyes
blurred with painful tears. He would never wave that arm again.
    The Marquis, his powerful hands about her throat, was forcing her
back over the steps in the catacombs, toward those hideous broken
railings below… A series of crashing discords woke her. Starting bolt
upright, her heart pounding frenziedly, she stared at the faint glow
surrounding the curtains. That was not Damon playing! Whatever else,
the Marquis was a musician par excellence. She winced before another
onslaught, turned up the wick of the lamp, and looked to the ormolu
clock on the mantle. Half past two o'clock! It occurred to her suddenly
that Horatio must be stamping about on the keyboard. But with a house
full of company, why did no one attempt to stop the wretched bird?
Pulling the pillow over her head, she lay there, seething with rage.
She began to contemplate various ways of dealing with the feathered
musician. They progressed in violence until, as time ticked past, there
was nothing for it but to slaughter the monster!
    She gave a sigh of relief as the bizarre concert ceased, but just as
she was dropping into an exhausted slumber, another crashing chord sent
her heart leaping into her throat. It was the outside of enough!
    Two minutes later, burning with fury despite the frigid atmosphere,
she marched along the hall, candle in one hand, poker in the other, her
dressing gown buttoned up tightly, a cap neatly arranged over her hair.
All was still...And suddenly she knew why. The music room was directly
below her! And her bedchamber undoubtedly shared the same chimney! That
Machiavellian housekeeper had known her master allowed his sadistic pet
to dance on the harpsichord in the small hours of the morning!
Disregarding the fact that it had been her own insistence that had
resulted in her occupation of the bedchamber, Sophia hastened on, the
trumpets of war soundlessly blaring her advance, murder in her heart.
    Throwing open the door to the music room, she swept in, poker held
high, prepared to separate one goose from his musical aspirations.
    The Marquis sat at the harpsichord. He wore no jacket and frowned
(understandably!) as his long fingers moved firmly and unfortunately
over the keys. Sophia halted, stupefied by the fact that even he could
be so inconsiderate as to perpetrate such an uproar at this hour. His
fist pounded down with a crash. He ran his fingers through his already
rumpled hair in a gesture of furious impatience and grated, "Blast and
damn the stupid thing!"
    Horatio, snoozing on the rug before the fire, woke with a