Simon

Simon had barely returned home when his mother followed him up the stairs to his room.

“You have to do something, Simon. I will not have your name disparaged and your sisters’ opportunities frittered away because you have an unfortunate attraction to a woman who’s little better than a servant.”

Simon came to a stop. His mother barely halted in time not to collide with him. “You will not speak of my attraction as if it is any of your concern.” He took a deep breath to hold his temper, and without looking her way, informed her, “I’m having the dowager house refurbished. You’ll move in as soon as it’s completed.”

“I’ll happily move there if you leave off with that American. They are little more than the byproduct, the waste of England cast off decades ago. Lady Atkins is—”

Simon whirled to face her, his voice stern. “You’ll move whether you’re happy or not. Stay out of what’s my business alone.” Though she didn’t say more, he wondered if their conversation had convinced his mother to stop meddling. He hoped so—but he doubted it. The workmen he met with on his recent trip assured him they would have repairs completed within a month. Right now, that felt like a month too long.

He bathed the dust and horse smell of his travels from his body and dressed with precision. Tonight after dinner was the musicale. His mind pulled up the cherished memories of Cora’s private concerts. Unfortunately, tonight would be unlike either of those. It was doubtful that he would hear even half the notes played by any of the musicians.

He did look forward to seeing Cora and watching as she played. He loved the passion that rang through her notes, the excitement in her eyes, and the satisfaction in the slight smile that tugged at her lips. Did she know that when she was deep into the enjoyment of the music, her eyes closed, and her breathing deepened? It was as if she became music.

Simon entered the salon. No one else had arrived. He looked toward the clock on the mantel—he was very early. His mother and sisters wouldn’t be here for at least ten minutes, assuring that they would be in place a quarter of an hour before their guests began to arrive.

Sitting on the mantel was the silver bowl that had carried the papers for the instrument selection. It had been quite a surprise to him when Cora’s paper had been a harp. Neither of his sisters, his mother, nor Lady Atkins played that instrument. He had been surprised that they would include it and risk humiliation if they had to prepare a song. As far as he knew, the instrument hadn’t been played since his father’s sister had played it when Simon was a child.

He walked over and picked up the bowl, curious what instruments hadn’t been selected. He unfolded one after another, dropping each to the side. When the bowl was empty, eight papers sprinkled across the tabletop—they all said “harp.”

Simon’s mother entered the room and gave barely a glance at him. He was determined that she would answer for the trick being played out.

Georgia and Virginia came in immediately. They greeted their mother first, then Simon. Their eyes dropped to the table, the papers, and then back up to him. To Simon, it looked as if they would flee the room. “Stop.” The girls stopped but didn’t face him. “I don’t need to know why you did it. It’s obvious you have planned an embarrassment for Miss Rey.”

“What are you talking about?” his mother asked, sounding annoyed and finally looking his way.

“She doesn’t know,” Virginia said. “It’s just a game. We didn’t think you would take such offense.”

Simon pinned the girls with a stare. He knew his mouth was sealed tightly against the harsh words he wanted to say. After a slow walk toward them and a long silence, he said, “I’ll inform Miss Rey that she isn’t obligated to attend the musicale this evening. If she chooses not to attend, I will not, either.”

Protest flared in his mother’s eyes, but Miss Atkins arrived at that moment. Her eyes too went to the bowl and papers on the table. “Have I come at a bad time?” Her voice was shrill and her hands clasped in front of her tightly. Red crept up her neck and cheeks.

Simon realized that she also had drawn out a paper in his presence and had lied about its contents. She had been privy to the fraud as well. How could his family think this woman would ever be a good match for him? They didn’t. They only thought Lady Atkins was a good match for them without considering him at all.

The doors opened again, and Lord and Lady Cottrell, Lady May Cottrell, and Cora entered. When Simon took a step toward the group, his mother rose suddenly and put her hand on his arm to retain him. He sidestepped and continued to the new arrivals. After greeting each one, he said, “Miss Rey, I would like your opinion about something.” He swept his hand toward the windows at the far end of the room.

“Of course.”

As they walked across the room, it seemed as if the whole room was silent so as to listen to their conversation. Or maybe it wasn’t, and he just couldn’t hear the conversations behind him. When they stopped at the last window, Simon asked, “Are you set on participating in the musicale tonight?”

“Yes, but that’s an unusual question. Why do you ask?”

Simon glanced over his shoulder to see his mother, sisters, and Lady Atkins all looking their way. “The drawing for instruments was false. All the slips of paper said “harp,” and my sisters and Lady Atkins lied after choosing.”

Cora’s expression hardly changed, but she nodded. “They were hoping for my failure.” She smiled, and her eyes seemed to Simon to light from within. “Well, they’re in for quite a surprise.” She put her hand on Simon’s arm. “Lucky for me, it’s one of the instruments I play.”

“Piano, violin, harp—how many instruments do you play?” Simon asked as he placed his hand over hers in the crook of his elbow.

“Quite a few.” Cora’s smile broadened, and she winked. “But not as many as my father did.”

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

“No. My plan is to show you.” She leaned closer and whispered, “One by one.”

Simon liked that plan very much.

“I’m sorry the musicale will be less than enjoyable for you. However, don’t worry about me. It just became infinitely more interesting.”

Simon liked the mischievous look on Cora’s face and turned to lead her back, but she tugged gently on his arm, and they stopped. “I’ll arrange a private concert for you with the harp if you’d care to check your calendar for the next few days.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He walked her back, and the noise of the room became more apparent to him. The room had filled, and all the guests were accounted for as they exited to dinner.