His voice seemed to perk up with excitement at the end of his sentence.
A moment of hesitation washed over Charlotte.
Should I tell him that it was me?
Her heart raced at having received a great amount of praise from a stranger she had barely met. Her uncle had always told her that her music was nothing more than noise that disturbed the peace. Yet here she was being told her composition told the story of her life and touched the hearts of those who heard it. Not always was she being praised, but the man seemed to know what he was talking about.
“The song is something I used to play with my mother; I like to play it in memory of her.” She took a deep breath and risked being ridiculed or even outed as a liar. What more did she have to lose that hadn’t already been taken from her?
An understanding smile spread over his face as Jameson looked her over for a moment. Taking a step forward, he reached out a hand, holding it out to her in an offer of friendship. “Jameson Sinclair.”
Feeling a pull towards him, Charlotte stepped forward and placed her hand in his palm, feeling a rush of warmth from his skin. The gentle way he bowed over her hand and brushed his lips over her skin sent a tingling sensation up her arm. Time seemed to stand still for just a moment as he lifted his eyes and smiled at her.
“Charlotte Grey,” she managed to regain her composure long enough to return his introduction.
“Now that’s a name that would echo through the ages. I’m sure I’ll be hearing that name again,” he said, his voice deep and husky as he straightened his spine, keeping her hand in his as he looked into her eyes.
The moment seemed to last forever as Charlotte felt captivated by his gaze that swept from her face down to her neck and chest that rose and fell with every breath. The atmosphere in the garden had somehow changed, leaving her rooted to the spot in his presence. It was almost as if the rest of the world never existed beyond the topiary wall. Crickets sang in the hot evening air as the breeze cooled their heated skin.
“I would love to discuss how you composed that piece if you have the time?” Jameson’s fingers lightly closed over hers as he spoke.
“I would love to …” Her words suddenly cut off as Charlotte’s head snapped up.
“What’s the matter?” a deep frown of confusion furrowed his brow.
Tugging her hand away, she took a step back, her eyes once again darting around the alcove for an escape. “My friend and her mother are looking for me. Lady Grace will not look kindly on your presence here with me,” she hurriedly explained as the footsteps in the distance drew closer.
“I see.” Realization suddenly bloomed on his face as Jameson looked around the nook, stepping behind Charlotte with quick agility.
“You can’t hide behind me; you’re too tall and muscular,” she hissed under her breath, looking over her shoulder.
“There you are, Charlotte. Where did you disappear to like that?” Lady Grace let out a deep breath as she came into the alcove with Isabella in tow. Her voice was steeped in motherly concern as she looked Charlotte over.
Charlotte was sure that she’d be getting a mouthful as soon as her friend’s mother spotted the man hiding behind her back.
“I was just talking to …” She bit the bullet and turned, realizing that there was no other way out of the predicament she found herself in.
“Talking to who?” Isabella frowned at her, glancing around the empty space at the fountain and topiaries.
It was Charlotte’s turn to frown as she searched for Jameson, who had seemingly vanished into thin air. The section of the garden behind was all but deserted.
How did he do that?
She briefly wondered if he hadn’t been a figment of her imagination before turning back to her companions. “I was just talking to myself; the dancing left me a little flustered,” she said, doing her best to explain her own admission.
“I understand dear; these things can be a little overwhelming at times. Let’s get back inside before the air gets too cool,” Grace said softly, holding her hand out to Charlotte with a warm smile.
Accepting the hand proffered to her, Charlotte allowed herself to be led away, glancing over her shoulder at the topiaries. A grateful smile spread over her lips as Jameson poked his head around the corner and winked at her.
He was real.
Her heart whispered gratefully.
***
Stepping out from behind the giant topiary, Jameson smiled at the retreating figures. Something was spellbinding about Charlotte Grey; he wanted to get to know her better and learn of the sadness behind her hazel eyes.
Those eyes …
