I nodded. “Her square piano was a wedding gift from her parents, but music sheets are expensive, so . . . she wrote her own songs.”
“It is lovely. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“Thank you for playing it for me.” A tear trailed down my cheek. I gave myself a little laugh. “You must think me quite the watering pot.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking.” He raised his hand toward my cheek as if he meant to dry my tears, but then he paused and produced a freshly laundered square from his pocket. Our fingers brushed when he handed it to me, and a warm shiver traveled up the length of my arm.
I swallowed hard. “What are you thinking then?”
“I’m not sure I should say.”
“Now you must tell me.” I patted my cheeks with his pocket square, then touched my hair to make sure nothing was out of place. “I shall be discomfited until you do.”
Damon pressed his lips together, as if trying to hold a secret captive, but after a moment, he conceded the fight with a shake of his head. “I was thinking about how lovely your eyes are.”
My heart raced. He sat so near and stared into my eyes so intently. Had I heard him correctly? Was he in earnest? Was it wrong that I wanted him to be? “W-what did you say?”
A noise sounded across the room. The fire? A floorboard? Damon glanced in the direction of the sound, but I could scarcely look away.
“Your eyes,” he said more loudly but with less feeling. “They are lovely.”
“Don’t fall for his words, Hanny. Damon uses that line on all young ladies.” Ollie entered the morning room, newspaper tucked under his arm, and sat on the sofa. “He probably played a song for you too.”
Damon stood abruptly.
“I thought as much.” Ollie snickered and opened his newspaper.
Damon walked to the window and leaned against the frame, his rigid form highlighted by the daylight. “It seems you have chosen the perfect day for a picnic,” he said to Ollie. “Hardly any rain clouds.”
Ollie lowered his newspaper. “I am surprised you carved out time in your schedule to enjoy it.”
“Come now, Ollie. You know I would never pass up an opportunity to enjoy such lovely company.” Damon winked at me.
Although I knew this action was for Ollie’s benefit and not mine, my face warmed all the same. And I couldn’t stop thinking about what Damon had said before Ollie had appeared. Did he really think my eyes beautiful?
Yesterday, when Lady Winfield had said she thought he’d developed an affection for me, I was certain she’d only been fooled by our ruse, but now it didn’tfeellike pretend.
There was something between Damon and me. What exactly, I did not know, but he was not the villain I had made him out to be. And I had to admit that I’d come to enjoy the time I spent with Damon. Not only was he an excellent conversationalist, but he was also a worthy opponent. I liked how he challenged me at chess and encouraged me to have my own opinions. And my heart had never felt that kind of stirring as it had when he’d played the pianoforte for me, like a tiny lightning bolt had struck the center of my chest. No, I could not deny that the time I spent with Damon was exhilarating, but it was also confusing and chaotic.
I was not the first to fall for his charms, and I would not be the last. Not to mention the fact that Damon didn’t trust me. I’d shared more of myself than he had. He would not even tell me who his business contact was yesterday in town, and although I loved how he’d complimented my eyes, he’d not done it freely. I’d had to drag it out of him.
“Hanny?”
I blinked out of my reverie and looked at Ollie. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
He set aside the newspaper and stood with a smile. “I asked what song you were playing before I arrived.” He walked over to the pianoforte.
“Oh. It was nothing.”
Ollie tilted his head to study the sheet music: Mama’s notes in the margins and the curled corners of the pages. “It doesn’tlooklike nothing. Will you play it for me?”
I glanced at Mama’s sheet music and felt cold. I couldn’t explain why. I’d risen early for this exact purpose, but I had no desire to play for him. Or I did . . . didn’t I? Just not now.
Feeling out of countenance, I leaned forward and collected the sheet music. “I’m actually quite hungry. Perhaps another time.” I rose and replaced the bench. “Shall we all go to breakfast?”
Ollie hesitated briefly but then nodded in agreement. He retrieved his newspaper from the sofa and moved toward the door.
I glanced at Damon, but he remained at the window and said nothing. “Will you join us, my lord?” I asked.
