Andrews Brothers 01 - The Ruse by Felicia Rogers

Author:Felicia Rogers [Rogers, Felicia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-11-20T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

If she had not been used to awkward stares, then Luke’s obvious appraisal would have made her nervous, but as it was she funneled that energy into making her music better.

When the last note died away, Luke was sitting on the edge of the nearest sofa with his elbows on his knees, staring at her in awestruck wonder.

She placed her hands in her lap. The intensity of his glare made her pulse race. Now she was worried. “Did I do something to displease you?”

He shook his head. “What?”

“You are staring at me as if I have done something wrong. I wondered if I displeased you. As of yet you have been the perfect gentleman, but in honesty I am at your mercy.”

“No, you did not displease me.”

“Then perhaps you should stare in a different direction. I feel like a bird and you are the cat.”

“I will comply with your wishes, but know that if I wanted to devour you nothing would stop me.”

She gulped back her fear and forced her false bravado back into place. “Now that we have the levels of authority set, perhaps we can discuss what is on the agenda for the afternoon. Apparently I won’t be leaving for the estate.”

“Why not?”

“Why, the rain, of course. I can hardly be expected to run to the coupe in this deluge. I’m sure tomorrow will be early enough to return.”

He walked to the window and leaned against the sill. Staring at his back, she tried to decipher his expression. He faced her, a smile lifting his lips. “What will you tell people when you return?”

“Good question. I’m not sure. I guess if I knew what had Letta so distressed at the ball, then perhaps I could use it to my advantage. But the maid was twittering so and whispered, such a detestable practice, that I couldn’t make out a word.” She paused before asking, “Perhaps you know of the unusual happenings at the ball?”

“Ghosts.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, fighting to hide her shock.

“Letta thought she saw a ghost in the west wing.”

Horrified, she stuttered, “B-but how could that be? The west wing has been closed since the baron’s mother passed.”

“True.”

Brigitta covered her mouth. “You don’t think the baron’s mother has returned and now haunts the west wing?”

Luke laughed and she pouted. “I find that highly unlikely.”

Straightening herself upon the bench, she picked up a page of sheet music and pretended to glance over the notes, giving herself time to contemplate. After sliding the paper back into place, she said, “No matter. Whether the ghosts are real or fake is not my concern. The fact that Letta spread the nonsense through the estate, however, does assist with my dilemma.”

“How so?” The smile in his voice grew bigger as he strode closer and stroked the pianoforte’s gleaming framework.

Brigitta watched his hands perform the simple action, and fought her imaginings that the wood was her. She looked away and cleared her throat. “It is quite simple, really. I will say a ghost hid me in the west wing.

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