He stood there watching her, listening and thinking how lovely, how romantic she looked.
The tempo of the music had him wanting to take Susannah’s hand and dance a waltz with her. Dances like the quadrille were fast and fun, but a man never got to actually feel the frame of a woman in his arms with those dances.
Race had been taught better than to spy on anyone, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Although he was only looking at her back, he could see from the way her body moved and swayed with each note, she was intense and derived much pleasure from playing. And he found great pleasure watching her and listening to the lovely music. His desire for her grew, unrelenting and tense.
Race moved closer to the windowpane. He reached up to shield his eyes with his hand so he could see better, when the gold family-crest ring he wore hit the glass. It sounded like a pistol shot.
Susannah jerked around, and their eyes met. Race jumped back, stumbled, and almost fell. She rose and put her hand over her mouth. He could see she was laughing at him by the glint in her eyes and the way her shoulders shook with each breath.
He deserved it, peeking in her window like a common thug.
He shrugged and gave her a guilty smile. She motioned for him to go to the right where the door was located.
Race felt more than a little naughty, getting caught watching her through the window, but he didn’t care because he wanted to see her.
“My lord,” she said, stepping out onto the slate-covered landing. “By the saints in heaven, what is a fine upstanding gentleman like you doing lurking around my house and peeking through my window?”
He liked the twinkle in her eyes and the teasing smile on her beautiful, shapely lips. In fact, there wasn’t anything about her he didn’t like.
“Pardon me, Duchess, but I was listening to you play.”
“And watching me, too?”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t admit to that.
“That is not a very polite thing for a marquis to do, is it?”
She moved closer to him and reached up to his neckcloth as if to touch him. A shiver of anticipation and excitement surged through him. She lowered her hand and held up a piece of yew for him to see.
“Why is your coat littered with these?” She brushed more of them away with her fingertips. “You didn’t come through your garden to get here, did you?”
He nodded. “And it wasn’t easy.”
She laughed softly, making Race want to pick her up and swing her around.
“I can see that by the twigs in your hair. You could have come to the front door and knocked like a proper gentleman.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a half grin as he brushed a hand through his hair. “What fun would that have been?”
“Probably none.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
They both laughed, and Race was suddenly glad that he had cut a hole in the hedge and crawled through. When she looked at him like that, he would crawl through hell to get to her.
“I must admit that my being here is simple. I heard lovely music and I came to find its source. I didn’t know if it would be you playing, Mrs. Princeton, or someone else. That is all there is to it.” He stepped closer to her; his gaze swept down her face and then back up to her eyes. “All the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never heard music before.”
“Perhaps that’s because the pianoforte is new to the house. I bought it a few days ago.”
“You are very good.”
She smiled shyly and looked away for a moment. “Thank you. My life at Chapel Gate is very quiet, and I’ve had much time to practice over the years. You don’t have to stand outside to listen. Come inside and I will play for you.”
“Are you sure? I really didn’t want to be a bother if you are practicing,” he said, knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth. He didn’t mind disturbing her at all.
“You are not bothering me.”
She turned away to go back inside, but he caught her by the wrist, letting his hand slide down to cup her fingers. Just the feel of her hand in his made him desire to make her fully his.
