[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.“The passage is almost perfect.”The music parlor they had taken over as a rehearsal space was filled with slanting sunshine and rich colors—indigo and burgundy and gold.Various musical instruments lay about the room: a harp, two old wooden flutes, a richly inlaid guitar, and, of course, a piano.The acoustics were muffled by the swags of draperies and layered carpets, but at least the piano was in tune.Though Dare focused on the music, he was still—always—aware of Clara.She sat curled on the settee with her feet tucked beneath her, her shoes abandoned on the carpet before her.It was an endearing pose, made possible by the fact that the doors were locked, with just the three of them inside.Nicholas, his face weary, lifted his hands to the keyboard.The introduction to the Air in E minor was strong.Taking a firm grip on his bow, Dare launched himself into the melody.When they reached the second section, however, the piece faltered once more.Dare bit back a curse and lowered his violin.He was driving Nicholas too hard, but the competition was tomorrow.In one day, all his dreams and fears would be poised, waiting on either side as he took the stage at La Scala.To his right, darkness and perdition.To his left, brilliant triumph.Which way would he fall?He was not a man to entertain thoughts of failure, and yet…“Enough,” he said.“But—” Nicholas began.Dare cut him off with a curt gesture.“I have said we are finished rehearsing.Tonight, there will be no carousing into the wee hours.I want you well rested, Nicholas.”Clara looked up sharply at his words.“I believe we sought our beds before you did, Darien.”“The fact did not escape my notice.”Nor had the cold, empty sheets, when he retired less than an hour after Clara had departed the soiree.He’d waited in vain for her.Had even opened his door twice, thinking he heard a noise in the hall—for nothing.Resigning himself to her absence, he had respected it, believing she had been too weary, or too unsettled, to come to him.She met his gaze, her silvery eyes clear.“I tried.”“Tried what?” Nicholas asked.“To shepherd you away at a reasonable hour,” she replied.“I agree with Darien.We must all retire early tonight.”“Indeed.” Dare gave her a smile filled with private heat.“After the banquet, I expect everyone to seek their rooms.”Nicholas rose and straightened the stack of music on the piano.“Wait.” Dare strode forward and fanned the pages again.“Here—the Viaggio.We have been so busy rehearsing for the duel, we’ve not yet played the second movement.It will be a refreshing change of pace.Come, let us play it.”They both needed to play for enjoyment, without the specter of the competition shadowing every note.Nicholas’s shoulders slumped further.“I…”“I’ll play it with you, if Nicholas agrees.” Clara slipped her feet into her shoes and came to stand beside the piano.“He deserves a rest.”“And I do not?” Dare pressed back the smile he felt edging his lips.He didn’t want to show his pleasure too much at the prospect of playing with Clara again.Not in front of Nicholas, not on the very cusp of the duel.“Nicholas?” Clara touched his arm.He passed one hand across his eyes.“Go ahead.Although, if you don’t mind too much, I will go back to my rooms.”“Take care not to be seen,” Dare said.At his request, Emperor Francis had provided this little-used salon for their rehearsal, sending a palace official to guide them along the servants’ corridors.Dare was determined to give no specifics away to curious fans—or Varga’s spies.“Rest well,” Clara said.Nicholas nodded, gave his sister a strained smile, and slipped out the side door leading to the maids’ passage.Dare stared at the wall a moment, where the paneled door had closed.He wished he did not have to work his composer so hard.He wished the sheer musical brilliance on the page translated more fully into Nicholas’s fingers.And he especially wished to be free of the suspicions that had begun shadowing his mind whenever he thought of how well Clara performed her brother’s music.She moved to the piano, her slender body concealed in a gown of pale green silk.Still, he could imagine her naked limbs in perfect detail: the sensitive hollows behind her knees, the small scar on her left arm from a childhood mishap, the sweet indentation of her waist.“I missed you last night,” he said.“Varga caught me in the hallway, coming to you.” She shivered
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]