Read Online Waltz With a Stranger by Pamela Sherwood - Free Book Online

room just down the passage. He listened as the notes ran up and down the scale, then shaped themselves into a somewhat familiar air.
    Chopin , he thought, after listening for a few more moments—a composition he’d heard a few times before when his cousin Jessica was practicing. But this player, while no virtuoso, was far more proficient than poor Jess. Intrigued, he left the sitting room to investigate the sound.
    What he found in the music room made him smile. He hadn’t known Amy even played the piano, much less this well. From the doorway, he glimpsed her straight back and the proud set of her head and shoulders, though wisps of spun-gold hair had escaped from her chignon to tease the tender nape of her neck. Seemingly unaware of this distraction, she played on, her fingers skimming over the keys with exhilarating speed and unerring accuracy.
    Well, perhaps not entirely unerring, he amended, as she struck a wrong note.
    “Drat,” she muttered, just audibly enough for him to hear. And then, more vehemently, “ Merde ,” just before she resumed playing with the same fierce concentration.
    James stared at her, astonished. His own French was little more than passable, but some words one did not forget. Then his mouth quirked; truly, his fiancée had unknown depths. And far from shocking him, her lapse made her seem more endearingly human, less a golden goddess than a flesh-and-blood woman with the same imperfections and insecurities as other mortals.
    But the occasional error notwithstanding, her dedication to her music amazed him. He would never have guessed she could play with such intensity, such single-minded passion. Never before had she revealed this side of herself to him. Never before—
    He froze, struck by a sudden realization. And took a closer look at the pianist.
    Not Amy. Aurelia.
    Why hadn’t he remembered she was musical? The image of her swaying in time to the waltz flashed into his mind with blinding clarity. Such unconscious grace, despite her professed infirmity, and now, such unexpected skill, displayed just as artlessly.
    Loath to interrupt, he remained in the doorway, watching and listening. She’d come a long way from the girl she’d been a year ago, and yet she drew him as strongly now as she had then. Not from pity this time, but admiration—and something more he did not care to name.
    ***
    Someone was watching her. Aurelia could feel the weight of that unseen gaze upon her, but she continued to play, working her way through the alternating slow and fast movements of the piece to the last chords, which ended as softly as a sigh.
    Lord Trevenan’s voice spoke from behind her. “Well done, Miss Aurelia.”
    Aurelia wondered why she was not more surprised to discover it was he. But then, she reflected wryly, last night had taken the cake as far as surprises went. “Thank you, Lord Trevenan.” To her relief, her voice sounded steady and calm. “Have you been listening long?”
    “Long enough.” He came further into the room. “I was not aware that you played.”
    “I hadn’t, not for a while,” Aurelia confessed. After the accident, she had shunned anything that might call attention to herself, including music. “But I discovered that I regretted giving it up. There was a piano at our hotel in Bad Ems, so I asked if I might practice on it. I hope to regain some degree of proficiency soon.”
    “From what I heard, I would say you already have.” He paused beside the piano.
    Aurelia made herself look at him and smile, grateful that her face did not show the ravages of a sleepless night. “That is kind of you to say, my lord.”
    “Not at all. As a Cornishman, I can be very exacting about music,” he explained. “I’ve heard my cousin perform this piece, but not so well. Chopin, isn’t it?”
    “Yes. Waltz in C sharp minor.” She felt the betraying color rising in her cheeks; it would have to be a waltz she was playing!
    Lord Trevenan glanced aside, and Aurelia had the sudden