Page 9 of An Alliance with the Earl (Marrying for Love #5)
CHAPTER NINE
E dward leaned back in his chair, observing the scene before him with mild amusement. The drawing room was abuzz with Lady Lansdowne’s preparations for the upcoming musicale, voices overlapping as pieces were selected and performers assigned. He had no strong objections to the event—he even enjoyed music well enough—but he had not expected to be drawn into the discussion with such enthusiasm.
“You come from a musical family, Lord Cheshire,”Lady Lansdowne said with a pointed look.“Surely your opinion will be invaluable, even if you do not wish to play.”
He resisted the urge to smirk. His sisters were exceedingly talented at the pianoforte, and though he himself played with some proficiency, he had long learned that any skill of his paled in comparison to their brilliance. Still, he appreciated a well-played piece, and there was a quiet satisfaction in the act of playing—though he preferred to do so in solitude rather than before an audience.
“I am certain you have no need of my opinions, Lady Lansdowne,”he said, his tone light.“You seem to have the evening arranged to perfection already.”
Lady Lansdowne smiled at the praise. “Everything will be arranged to perfection, but I should still appreciate your opinions.” She glanced at her paper and consulted her impeccably organized list. She tapped a name halfway down the page with a sense of finality.
“Lady Olivia will play a selection on the pianoforte in the middle. I should not wish to showcase you too early.”
Edward’s brows lifted. “Lady Olivia?”
“Yes,” Lady Lansdowne said briskly.
Edward cast a glance at Lady Olivia, who had stiffened beside him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She looked extremely uncomfortable. He turned back to Lady Lansdowne. Of course he would rescue his ally. It was the least he could do. “I believe you are mistaken. Lady Olivia does not play.”
Lady Lansdowne’s sharp eyes flicked toward Lady Olivia. “She most certainly does. She is most accomplished. What is this nonsense?”
Lady Olivia shifted uncomfortably. “I expressed my disinterest in music in one of our conversations,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual.
Lady Lansdowne arched a brow. “And yet, I still wish for you to play.”
Lady Olivia’s fingers clenched the fabric of her gown. “I-I shall need time to practice.”
“You may have all the time you need,” Lady Lansdowne said with a satisfied nod, “until tomorrow night.”
Edward watched as Lady Olivia’s expression faltered, though she offered no further protest.
The conversation moved on, with Lady Lansdowne discussing the order of performances and debating whether Lord Remington’s baritone voice would add or detract from the evening’s entertainment. Edward answered her queries where necessary, but his mind remained fixed on Lady Olivia.
When Lady Lansdowne finally swept from the room, Lady Olivia remained seated, staring at nothing in particular. Edward took a step closer, watching as she twisted her hands together in her lap.
“Lady Olivia,” he said gently, “you look as though you’ve been struck by a third arrow.”
Her head snapped up, and her light brown eyes widened before a rueful laugh escaped her lips. She stood, pacing back and forth as if there were a large problem to solve. “Is there such a thing? Because if so, it hurts worse than the second.”
Edward’s brows drew together, his lighthearted remark shifting into concern. Without thinking, he took her hand and guided her back to the settee, urging her to sit. “Tell me,” he prompted, his voice low, steadying.
She hesitated, then exhaled slowly. “I haven’t played much since my broken engagement.”
His chest tightened.
“The last song I learned was for the man who broke my heart,” she continued, her gaze dropping to her hands. “And after what happened, I haven’t felt like playing since.”
Edward inhaled sharply, frustration burning beneath his ribs. That man had taken too much from her already. He had left a wound deep enough that it still dictated her choices. Edward would not stand for it.
“No,” he said, shaking his head firmly. “I will not allow these arrows to continue striking their mark.”
She lifted her gaze to his, confusion flickering across her features.
Before she could question his intent, he rose to his feet, pulling her gently up beside him. “Come with me,” he said, leading her from the drawing room.
“Lord Cheshire,” she murmured, hesitant, but she followed him nonetheless.
They wove through the corridors until they reached the music room, a grand space filled with instruments, with sheet music stacked neatly on the shelves. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden glow upon the mahogany pianoforte at the room’s center.
Edward walked ahead, not giving her time to protest before lowering himself onto the bench. He patted the space beside him, an easy smile tugging at his lips.
“Come now, Lady Olivia, I promise not to bite.”
She hesitated, her hands tightening in her skirts as if she could anchor herself in place. For a moment, he thought she might refuse. Then, with a quiet breath, she sat beside him, though her posture remained rigid, her hands unmoving in her lap.
“I told you, I haven’t played in a long time, especially in front of an audience.”
“Then don’t think of it as playing,”he interrupted smoothly.“Just copy me. And I’m not an audience. I’m merely your ally.”
He placed his fingers on the keys and pressed out a simple, five-note melody—light, effortless, meant to coax rather than intimidate. Then he turned his head toward her, waiting.
She exhaled, casting him a wary glance before lifting her hands. Tentatively, she repeated the notes, her fingers pressing the keys with careful precision, as if afraid they might shatter beneath her touch.
Edward grinned.“Not so terrible, was it?”
She scoffed, but the corners of her lips twitched.“I hardly think that qualifies as playing.”
“Then let’s try a bit more.”
He played another sequence, this time adding a few more notes, his hands moving with easy familiarity. He nodded for her to follow, watching as she hesitated, then complied. The exchange continued—his hands moving, hers following—until their rhythm became natural, instinctive. With every note, something within her loosened.
Then, quite suddenly, she laughed.
The sound startled him—not because it was unexpected, but because it was unguarded. Genuine.
“This is absurd,”she said, shaking her head.
Edward chuckled, nudging her shoulder lightly.“Nonsense. You’ve been trained by an expert.”
She turned her head, eyes gleaming with amusement.“An expert, is it? You are playing like a child plucking out his first song.”
“Ah, but you forget—I made you play,”he countered, leaning in slightly, his voice laced with teasing warmth.“Which, I believe, makes me rather impressive.”
She made a noise of protest, but he could see it—the way her shoulders had relaxed, the way her fingers no longer trembled when they hovered over the keys. She was playing, and not because someone had pushed her into it. Not because duty demanded it, or because she was proving something.
She was playing for herself.
And it was because of him.
Edward turned back to the keys, his fingers gliding into a playful little flourish that he knew would provoke a reaction. Sure enough, she rolled her eyes but copied it, adding her own small embellishment at the end.
He raised a brow at her audacity, then responded with something even more ridiculous—a dramatic, showy run of notes. She let out a breath of laughter, bumping her shoulder against his as if to scold him for his theatrics, then tried to outdo him with an overly grand chord.
Something light and warm settled in Edward’s chest.
She was smiling. Laughing.
They continued like that for a while, taking turns, challenging each other, slipping into a rhythm that had nothing to do with skill and everything to do with the moment between them. He had not expected to enjoy this quite so much—to revel in the way she had stopped guarding herself, the way she let herself forget.
Edward leaned back slightly, his hands still on the keys, but his gaze fixed on her. This—this was what he had wanted all along.
For her to reclaim something that had been taken from her.
For her to remember that she was more than the sum of her heartbreak.
And as she played, her face still lit with laughter, he knew without a doubt that she had.