Page 7 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

Daphne tutted. “I don’t think the Marquess will be pleased to hear you compare his sister to an opera singer.”

“Oh, you wretch, I wasn’t saying that.”

She nudged him playfully. “She is exceptionally good, though. No wonder her brother is so keen to show off her singing.”

“What is the song?” Christian heard himself ask.

Why had his mouth gone dry? Why was his tongue sticking to his palate?

Daphne took a moment before responding.

“Leibestod,” he ventured uncertainly. “Mild und leise, or something like that. The song is about love. I always think it impressive how one can feel the emotion of a song, even if one can’t understand the words.”

“It’s about falling in love,” Edwin added. “How love is a song that nobody else can hear but the lover. Very sweet, really. I saw the opera in Paris once.”

The room had gone deathly silent. Even their carefully muted whispering was receiving quick, annoyed glances. Everybody wanted to listen to Lady Thalia sing.

Christian watched her. Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint line between her eyebrows. Her German pronunciation was perfect. It wasn’t simply a case of having learnt the song by rote. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was fluent in German.

Interesting.

The song ended, and Lady Thalia blinked her eyes open as if she were waking from a reverie. The applause was thunderous, and Christian found himself joining in.

She bobbed a curtsey with a wry, faint smile and then darted off the platform. Almost without thinking, Christian strode through the crowd towards her. People stepped aside to let him through. Behind him, Edwin yelped and followed in his wake.

When he was only a few feet from Lady Thalia, the Marquess darted out of nowhere, seizing her arm.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he hissed.

Christian strained his ears to hear.

“Don’t you dare wander off again. You are going to stay here, and you are going to talk to Mr. Pembroke. He was transfixed by your performance. You did exceptionally well.”

She yanked her arm free. “Well, if I sang so well, surely I can be allowed a glass of water, can’t I?”

The Marquess pursed his lips in annoyance. “Very well. Have a sip of water then return here immediately, do you hear? Immediately! Don’t think I won’t come to fetch you.”

She said nothing and plunged off into the crowd again.

“What did you rush off for?” Edwin asked in annoyance, appearing at his side.

Christian winced in apology. “Forgive me, but I really must talk to that lady. I shan’t be a moment.”

CHAPTER 3

Fresh air washed over Thalia. She let out a ragged breath, tilting back her head and letting the night breeze tickle her skin.

I hate balls. And parties. And musical evenings. Especially musical evenings.

That wasn’t to say that she hated music. Quite the opposite. Thalia adored singing and had a fairly good appreciation for the talents of others. But a musical evening like this, hosted by her brother, had only one aim, and that was to show her off to suitors. Especially Mr. Pembroke.

Ugh. Even the thought of the wretched man made her want to shudder. Anybody who Jonathan described as ‘a dear friend and a fine man’ was not the sort of man she wanted to marry.

Her escape would only be temporary. Jonathan would tear through the house in a fury to find her. Doubtless he would go first to the library, and she prayed he wouldn’t find her dance card tucked in the book she had been reading. He’d find her, sooner rather than later, and that would be that.

Heaving a sigh, she crossed the balcony, resting her elbows on the stone balustrade. The gardens below were swathed in darkness, with just a few torches lighting up the pathways, which were absolutely necessary. Jonathan had a great fear of anything improper happening at one of his parties. After all, it would reflect poorly on him as the host.

Worse yet, it would reflect poorly on her and could—horror of horrors—reduce her eligibility for marriage. And that simply would not do.