Never Judge a Beast by His Cover (The Three Graces Book 2) by Alanna Lucas

Author:Alanna Lucas [Lucas, Alanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2023-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Although Theodora was physically tired, her soul was restless, and she did not want to retire. She wanted to play the piano, to listen to Lord Grimsby play. But propriety dictated that she stay in her room, not wander in the night, for fear of stirring gossip or creating scandal.

But I’m not wandering. I have a destination in mind.

And besides, all she wanted to do was talk with Lord Grimsby and listen to his music. There certainly was no harm in that. With her mind made up, she grabbed her shawl and crept from her room, making her way through the house.

As she neared her destination, soft musical chords drifted down the hall. She was curious as to what he was playing. She had been studying music for as long as she could remember—her parents had not only encouraged her art, but indulged her, giving her scores of music to perfect. But she did not recognize the piece.

Lord Grimsby did not look her way when she entered the room but continued to play. She didn’t say anything, simply wanting to enjoy the music. Theodora took a seat beside the fireplace, near to where Shadow was sleeping peacefully, and tucked her legs beneath her skirts.

Only when the soft chords came to an end, did he acknowledge her presence. “Good evening, Theodora.” Her name whispered past his lips, and it was music to her ears. Her heart skipped a beat, just as it had done the day of the treasure hunt. And in that moment, something changed between them.

“Good evening, Damian.” She held her breath for a moment, hoping he would not turn her away. She suspected he was in need of a friend, in need of so much more. When he didn’t respond, she added, “That was quite beautiful. Who is the composer?”

His shoulders sagged and his gaze lowered, staring at the keys that his hands were still resting upon. The two words came as a soft whisper, almost as if they were spoken in embarrassment or fear. “I am.”

What stirred the imagination to be so creative?

“It truly was magnificent.” He kept his head lowered as if unworthy of her praise. She thought to try a different tactic. “What was your inspiration?”

He looked over to where she sat. Although his mask hid part of his features, the struggle within him was palpable. How could she reach him, help him to understand? She wanted him to open up to her, to confide in her, to share a part of himself. Then once again, his gaze shifted back to the piano keys.

“Certainly, you must have felt some inspiration.” It was more of a statement than a question. He did not answer. He didn’t even move. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of his chest, she would have thought him a statue. She was becoming almost desperate to reach him. Why couldn’t he just talk with her? She suspected he wanted to but was afraid. She thought for a moment. Perhaps there was a less personal topic they could discuss.

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