Page 65 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“But I—”

Violet didn’t bother arguing. Instead, she shoved the pillar of the harp over to Dora’s shoulder. “Now curve your hand as I showed you.”

Dora obediently curled her fingers inward.

“Good. Now place your forefinger bent on the lower ‘C’ string. Keep your thumb up.”

Biting her lip in concentration, the girl followed the instructions step-by-step.

“Pull that finger back against every string.”

Gingerly, Dora placed her finger on the center of the string and pulled back as instructed, one string at a time. Her pace was too slow and she wobbled once, but completed the movement at last.

“Excellent, Dora.”

“I did it!” A wide grin broke out across her face.

“And well.” Her pleasure in her achievement made Violet’s heart ache. The poor thing seemed to have had little praise in her life. “Now let’s do it again, a little faster this time. Imagine you are pulling a bow back as if you were playing at archery.”

“Oh, yes. I see.” Brows furrowed as she concentrated, Dora set her finger on the middle “C” string once more and pulled back smoothly and rapidly. The notes rang out loud and sweet in the small parlor they were using as a music room.

“Excellent. Now strum down with the other hand.”

Dora shot her a wild look but took a deep breath and did as she was told. The resulting notes were soft but sweet.

“Curve your thumb a bit to cup the sound and make it louder. First, up with the right hand.”

The harp sang the scale beautifully.

“And down with the left.”

The descending notes rang louder.

“Continue up and back.”

The joy of accomplishment in Dora’s face made Violet’s heart swell. Her pupil was a delight to teach.

Dora continued for several more sweeps of the strings, each pass stronger, more sure.

“It’s like I’m actually playing, Violet.” Her smile stretched across her entire face.

“You are indeed playing, my dear.” Tris’s voice cut through the glorious notes.

The sound stopped Violet’s breath dead.

Dora gasped and jumped up.

The harp crashed to the floor, rocking on its base until Violet grabbed it to prevent it toppling over.

“My lord, I…I.” Dora’s cheeks bloomed a bright pink.

“Good morning, Lord Trevor.” Violet had caught her breath and forced her head to clear, for the sight of him after so much time made her giddy. Dressed in a bronze brocade coat, brown breeches, and a deep maroon checked waistcoat all trimmed in gold braid, he cut a magnificent figure in the doorway.

“Good morning, Miss Carlton. I thought you had been engaged to teach Lord Downing’s granddaughter, not his daughter.” Mischievously, he looked from her to Dora, who had now turned white as the sheets of music scattered on the floor.

“I am a woman of many talents, my lord.” She bent, intent on retrieving the papers.

“I am fully aware of that, Miss Carlton.”