Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
He called after me, “Don’t forget, princess. Not one foot outside this house without me.”
CHAPTER 4
CHARLOTTE
Ignoring the suggestive giggles of the servants, I ran past them into my bedroom.
After slamming my door shut, I leaned against it with a hand over my heart.
It took several minutes for my breathing to even out.
What had just happened?
Already, my mind was rebelling against the facts.
No. He did not just almost kiss me.
No. He did not suggest he wanted to take it further.
No. He did not just imply he was remaining my bodyguard because he wanted me.
I closed my eyes as I pressed the back of my head against the hard wood paneled door.
Why couldn’t I have thought of some sassy comeback to put him in his place?
I groaned.
I already knew why.
Because I was Mary, not Elizabeth.
I rubbed my neck, missing the comforting weight of my cello pressing against my shoulder. Whenever I was stressed, sad, or lonely, I reached for my cello.
Crossing past my Colonial-style bed with its obnoxiously girly, frilled lace canopy, I reached for my cello. My fingertips grazed over the cool, smooth surface with reverence.
It was a Stradivarius, one of only eighty made by Antonio Stradivari himself.
It had been a wedding gift from my father to my mother.
The knowledge that my birth had killed the woman he loved had always hung between my father and me like an obsessive fog.
When I first found her beloved instrument in the attic, I had thought that maybe it would bring us closer if I learned to play it.
The memory of the pained expression on his face when, as a child, I surprised him with an impromptu concert of Mary Had a Little Lamb was forever imprinted on my soul.
As I foolishly beamed up at him, holding my breath, waiting for a kind word, he had stood and silently left the room.
I’d been crushed.
That was the first and last time I had ever played for him.
It was Luc and Olivia who’d convinced me to keep playing. Luc had even swiped my father’s credit card to set up online lessons for me.
Every month that passed, I’d expected my father to notice the charge and cancel them.
But he never did.
And while, after I’d graduated from college, he’d adamantly refused to allow me to pursue a professional career in music, he hadn’t objected to me joining an informal string quartet who played at children’s hospitals, nursing homes, and charity events.
As long as I got to play, I didn’t care.
My siblings often came to hear me.
My father never did.
My middle finger ran down the ridged metal D string.
Despite his objections, I had shown just enough courage to continue pursing my love of music and playing. Eventually, he had gotten over it and let me be.
Maybe my father would do the same with this horrible idea of me needing a bodyguard.
I mean, really? Who was going to seriously try and kidnap me?
Marksen had kidnapped Olivia to get back at Luc.
Those horrible criminals had kidnapped Eddie to intimidate Harrison, my new brother-in-law.
No one had any such designs on me. I wasn’t the subject of any man’s obsession.
Men barely noticed me.
Well, at least most men.
Giving myself a mental shake, I focused. I wouldn’t allow myself to act like some silly schoolgirl who naively believed a boy liked her just because he’d tried to steal a kiss. I wasn’t living in a stupid Nancy Drew novel!
With a huff, I lugged my hard cello case out from under my bed and carefully placed my prized instrument inside.
I had a rehearsal to get to.
I would simply sneak out through the servant’s entrance.
Father and Sergeant Taylor would be mad at first, but then they’d probably just shrug their shoulders and assume it was for the best to just leave me be.
Just like Father had with my cello playing all those years ago.
It was a good plan.
This was totally going to work.
It had to.
Lifting my case up onto its wheels, I tiptoed to my door and pressed my ear to it.
I wasn’t sure it was possible to hear much through the solid wood, but at least all was quiet.
Just in case, I shifted down to my knees and peeked under the door to see if I spied a pair of heavy black boots.
Nothing.
Cracking the door open, I paused.
Still nothing.
I willed myself to open the door further but remained frozen.
A deep breath calmed my nerves. I didn’t have time to hesitate.
One of the members of the quartet had managed to score the Bruno Walter Auditorium at the Library of Performing Arts, and I was due there in forty-five minutes.
If I was going, it had to be now, especially since I wouldn’t be able to use a Manwarring driver. To call down for one would just alert Reid.
My stomach clenched at the very thought of him hovering over my practice, making the rest of the members uncomfortable.