“Keep playing.” He leaned against the dark wood instrument and waited until she did. “I don’t think it’s silly so much as touching. I take it you’re all close?”
“Very.”
The single word was uttered so matter-of-factly he knew she took that closeness for granted. But he wouldn’t acknowledge the envy that clutched at his throat. He’d long ago accepted that his family was happier without him. And life on his own was just fine. Better, in fact.
When the cat lifted its head, Rand followed its gaze to see a bird land gracefully atop the harpsichord.
“Hello, Lady,” Lily greeted softly, her fingers not missing a note.
Confused, Rand ran his tongue across his teeth. “Do you call all sparrows Lady?”
“Of course not. I don’t call most sparrows anything. But Lady is special.”
“Do you mean…” He focused on the nondescript bird. “Is this the same sparrow that flew in at supper, the same sparrow you fed at Ford’s house?”
“One and the same,” she said, playing a little bit faster. “I raised her after I found her in an abandoned nest, and now she follows me around. She and Jasper.”
“Jasper?”
“The squirrel.”
Still playing, she nodded toward the sill. Sure enough, a red squirrel sat there, gnawing on an acorn. Rand supposed it must be the same squirrel that had appeared at supper, although damned if he could tell for sure. Like sparrows, one squirrel looked much the same as another.
To him, anyway.
Beatrix settled back down on Lily’s lap, and Lady flew to join her friend at the window. Jasper chattered, his bushy tail flicking up and down. To Rand, it seemed all the animals were watching him. Talking about him.
Under those three sets of eyes, he shifted uneasily. “Are you never alone?”
“Rarely,” Lily said blithely.
Rand shrugged. Absurd as it might seem, perhaps it was natural for her to be surrounded by such loyal creatures. He decided to watch Lily instead of the animals. Feeling pleasantly worn-out after the long day, he swayed in time to her music. “What song is this?”
“Nothing, really. Just something I made up.”
“You write music, too?” Slowly he lowered himself to the bench seat beside her. “Is there no end to your talents?”
As she scooted over to make room for him, her fingers faltered, then resumed. He smiled to himself, thinking he’d managed to fluster her. Was it the compliment, or his nearness?
He hoped it was the latter. Her nearness set him on fire.
He’d known four years ago that something in Lily Ashcroft spoke to something in Rand Nesbitt. Though he’d tried his best to forget her, his efforts had been for naught.
Beatrix began hiccuping. “I’m not particularly talented,” Lily protested. “Your singing is much better than my playing. I’ve never heard another voice as rich as yours.”
Unlike her, he wasn’t modest enough to deny a truth. He knew his voice was exceptional, but it wasn’t a talent that had been valued in his family. “I’ve never heard anything like your music,” he said. “So we’re even. And I hope we’ll be able to play and sing together again.”
At his words, her hands ceased moving for good. They went limp and dropped into her lap, causing Beatrix to squeal indignantly and leap to the floor. In seconds, the cat had followed her animal friends out the window.
Lily cleared her throat. “If your room at Lakefield isn’t ready tomorrow night, perhaps Rose will sing with you again.”
She looked so earnest. He fisted his fingers to keep from reaching to touch that adorable dent in her chin. “I don’t care whether Rose sings with me again. As long as you play.”
“Wh-what?” She shifted, turning to face him, searching his eyes with her wide blue ones. “But you and Rose sing together so beautifully. And she knows languages—not ancient ones like you do, but many modern ones, and—”
“I’m not interested in Rose,” he clarified. “But you…I’ve thought about you for four years.”
The breath rushed out of her with a whoosh. Her eyes grew bigger and bluer, disbelieving in her fine-boned face. She looked fragile and sweet as an angel.
But Rand was feeling anything but angelic.
Unable to help himself, he leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. His arms sneaked around her to pull her gently against him. Though she hesitated at first, after a moment he felt her yield to the kiss. Her lips were soft and giving, and her skin felt warm, exuding a heavenly scent of lilies.
It made his head swim, made the blood sluice through his veins, made him want to devour her. But he forced himself to hold back, because Lily was innocent. Lily was his best friend’s sister-in-law. Lily was his generous hostess’s virgin daughter.
When he reluctantly pulled away, her eyes were wider than ever—with shock and something else. Wonder, he thought. Or maybe he hoped it was wonder, even though he damn well knew he shouldn’t.
He wanted her—he wanted her with an intensity that heated his blood, an intensity that had taken him off guard, an intensity that had made him reach for her unthinkingly. But this sort of want could lead only to disaster. Lily was no courtier, no world-wise widow, no tart. She was all-too-respectable marriage material.
His room at Lakefield had better be ready tomorrow, because he sure as hell couldn’t stay at Trentingham any longer.
Randal Nesbitt had never really considered marriage, and he had no intention of starting now.
SEVEN
BREATHLESS, LILY stared at Rand. It had been her first kiss, and no matter that it had been rather chaste compared to those her sisters had described, it had still melted her to the core.
But how had she allowed him to kiss her? Especially considering she’d promised Rose not only to stay away, but to help her win him?
She felt like a traitor.
“My lord,” she started.
“Rand,” he corrected patiently.
He was patient. And he was handsome and brilliant. And although he wasn’t the avowed animal lover she’d always pictured for a husband, he didn’t
