At First Sight: A Regency Romance (Business of Love) by Ashtyn Newbold

Author:Ashtyn Newbold [Newbold, Ashtyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Leaf Publishing
Published: 2022-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

“Where are we going?” Fanny asked as she guided Percy to the back door at his request. She was perplexed, and rather relieved, to find that he was acting cheerful again. Cheerful for Percy, anyway. He had smiled on many occasions that day, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with their time, however brief, spent together.

“I’m looking for something very dear to me. I was searching for it in that fourth floor room just a fortnight ago, in fact.” Percy turned his head toward her. She stared back at his eyes, glinting blue in the sunlight. “My grandfather’s harp,” he said.

“You are telling me what brought you to that room?” Fanny’s heart dropped. “You can’t!”

Percy looked amused. “Well, I already did. Why shouldn’t I have?”

“Because now I will be forced to tell you of my misfortunes, don’t you remember?” She most definitely didn’t wish to reveal anything more that he might mock her for. She would be perfectly content if he imagined her flawless and not riddled with secrets and a painful past. Her heart pounded as memories flooded her mind.

“I didn’t remember, but you just very willingly reminded me.”

“Drat it all,” Fanny muttered.

“You must tell me every last one. We had an agreement.”

Fanny checked Percy’s face for any sign that he might concede. She found none. “Very well,” she mused. “My misfortunes…well, I am married to a man who takes great pleasure in tormenting me.” She bit back a laugh. “And I am forced at this very moment to hold his shapely arm and look upon his handsome face.”

She spied a little grin on Percy’s lips. “How do you bear it?”

“With great difficulty, I assure you.”

They were stepping through the door of the house now, and Fanny felt herself shrink beneath the lofty ceiling as she walked across the marble floors. Before he could ask for the real answer about her misfortunes, she changed the subject. “So, where is this harp of your grandfather’s?” The thought of Percy treasuring a harp was confusing at the same time that it was endearing. “And what do you want with this harp?”

Percy smiled down at her again and her heart gave a distinct leap. That smile.

“I would like to play it,” he said. “If you will listen.”

Fanny looked at the house all around her, the tall paintings and fine trim of the walls, trying to seem nonchalant. “I never imagined you would actually choose to spend an afternoon with me. Would you not rather play your harp alone?”

For a moment, she saw his face flicker, his gruff, scowling facade returning. But quicker than she could draw a breath, it was gone, replaced by a soft confession. “No.”

Fanny bit her lip and smiled, as if sharing a secret with herself. Percy’s cheeks flooded a subtle shade of pink.

After Fanny lit a candle, they climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Fanny searched all the rooms for a harp, any harp, but found nothing. After a quarter hour, they found themselves on the ground level once again, without success.

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