Page 49 of Hunted By the Guardian
“I admit I cannot.”
“Whereas I’m very good. I’ve practiced quite a bit.”
“And yet you never play for me,” he pointed out.
“You’ve never asked me to do that.”
“Perhaps I’m asking you now.”
“Are you?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It might be nice to hear you play.”
“My father told me when I was growing up that no gentleman would ever be interested in me unless I could show him some talents,” she said. “So I studied music, and I also learned to sing.”
“I’ve never heard you sing,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “You never sing around the house, not even to Noah.”
“That isn’t true,” she protested.
“It is.” He hesitated. “My mother liked to sing. If it were happening, I would have noticed.”
“I see.” She bit her lip. She supposed she had been too aware of his presence in their shared home to be free with her voice, but it wasn’t something she had registered before now.
They walked along for a moment, the tension between them sharp and uncomfortable.
It was Jonathan who broke it. “I suppose,” he said, his tone extremely light, “that you must have curtailed your singing to keep from attracting all the gentlemen your father believed it would appeal to. You must have realized what a dangerous gift that is.” His eyes cut to her.
She seized upon the offered mood lightener and forced a laugh. “Yes, my voice is far too potent, so I must be careful. Any man who heard it would immediately fall in love with me.”
He burst out laughing, which was a relief—she had been momentarily concerned that he might not know it was a joke. But his laugh, unlike her own, sounded very natural. “I suppose I can understand why you’re so cautious with that skill, then,” he said.
She warmed to her subject, her spirits lightening. “If word were to get out what I can do,” she said, “there would be suitors at the house day and night competing to win my favor. You would never have a moment’s peace. And I know that isn’t what you want, so I do my best to keep my appeal to myself.”
“Oh, yes, by all means,” he said. “We can’t have the gentlemen of the ton finding out what a prize you are.” He paused for a moment. “Although at least one of them seems to have recognized it already. Perhaps that fellow heard the legend of your singing and came to experience it for himself.”
“The man inside?”
“Well, he certainly did seem to have taken an interest. I thought he had just realized how lovely you look tonight,” he said, and Violet’s heart fluttered at the implied compliment. “But perhaps he also knows what a magnificent singer you are. Perhaps I’m not the only one hoping to get a chance to hear it.”
“Anything is possible,” Violet agreed, glancing at him to see whether he was teasing her. Bringing up the man they had encountered inside had turned things serious in a way she couldn’t quantify. The conversation had begun in jest, but it didn’t feel that way now.
There was a smile on his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze was far away. What was he thinking?
Why was he so angry that a gentleman was speaking to me today? Was it really just that I was uncomfortable? I believe he cares about that, but…
She felt, suddenly, as if she couldn’t catch her breath.
They continued walking, side by side, and though he was close enough to touch, Violet also felt as if there were fathoms between them.
And they were fathoms she realized she was yearning to cross.
CHAPTER 27
“How big is this beetle?” Noah asked, pointing at the picture.
Violet squinted at the page, then held out her thumb and forefinger. “The description says that it’s about this big.”
“That’s huge.”
