Page 29

Felix

Felix followed the bounding young woman into the cavernous Devonford great hall.

The slap of her slippers and the clop of his house shoes echoed through the two-story room.

The soft light of sunset spilled through the massive arched windows.

The large coffee-colored beams overhead and flickering candelabras dotting the walls lent the room a cozy, warm glow.

One Felix was grateful for. The thought of being in a brightly lit room, in the spotlight, while Thorne watched on, wasn’t exactly high on Felix’s list of ways to spend a pleasant evening .

Not after last night’s display, where Thorne had quite effectively put Felix in his place.

Pandora halted in the middle of the gleaming wood floor and spun to face him, ivory skirts swirling. “So, the suits of armor were put back.”

Oh? Felix tilted his head curiously, walking slowly up to the girl. “I feel like there is more to that statement than you’re letting on.”

Pandora ducked her chin in, a few blonde curls falling over to shadow her blushing cheeks. “I may have possibly accidentally waltzed my dance master right into one.” Her blue eyes peeked up at Felix, nose wrinkling sheepishly. “And it fell on him and broke his foot.”

Felix’s mind flew back to the library, where just a moment ago, Pandora had almost taken his head off with a broomstick.

Well, then. He could see the danger Pandora was referring to.

His gaze slid over to Thorne, who was settling on the bench at the pianoforte.

But what was life without a little danger?

Felix almost laughed. He was the last person to think such a thought.

Careful. Controlled. Never toeing the line.

Safe.

He shoved away those thoughts and bowed. “I think I’ll take the risk if it means I get to dance with you, Lady Pandora.” He winked at her.

“It’s Pandora , Felix. Goodness. We are friends, after all.” She threw him a saucy smile while she bobbed a curtsy.

A laugh rumbled from his chest, his lips spreading into a grin. What a spirited little sprite she was. He extended a hand. “So, what is it you need help with when it comes to the waltz?”

Pandora placed her hand in his, and they assumed the position of the waltz. “I get nervous,” she said quietly. She glanced up at him hesitantly. “And then I get clumsy. And skittish. And lose all sense of space. And break feet.”

“Ah, but we’re friends, as you just said.” Felix arched a brow. “There is no reason to be nervous with friends, because friends don’t care if you’re an accomplished dancer or not. They like you for you, clumsy feet and all.”

The girl’s face brightened, and the beginning notes of the waltz drifted their way.

“Ready?”

Pandora nodded sharply, blonde brows furrowed in determination. “Ready.”

Felix started them off in the waltz just as the music picked up.

And promptly stumbled. He recovered quickly, gaze shooting over to Thorne.

Thorne, whose sole focus was on the ivory keys his fingers currently flew over.

As he drew forth a sound so heartbreakingly beautiful, a sharp ache formed deep in Felix’s chest.

“I had no idea a lord as distinguished as yourself tripped, too!”

His attention snapped back to Pandora, his equilibrium still off balance from this revelation.

“Oh, it makes me feel so much better.” She smiled up at him like he’d just given her the most delightful news.

He opened his mouth to protest. That might have been the first time he’d ever stumbled while dancing. But, staring down at the hopeful, happy, and relaxed girl before him, he paused. That wasn’t what she needed to hear.

“No one is infallible, Pandora. We all trip from time to time. True strength comes from getting back up after you fall. If you continue to brush yourself off and try again, nothing can defeat you.”

They spun around the corner, Pandora following his lead beautifully. Whether that was because she was now comfortable dancing with Felix, or because his words were distracting her, he wasn’t sure.

Her blue eyes sparkled back at him curiously. “That makes a lot of sense. I suppose I will be falling and getting back up more often than most.”

“Failure, making mistakes, is not something to be afraid of. It is merely learning a way that doesn’t work. So, we get back up and try something different.”

She chewed her lip. “I’m not sure how to not be nervous. It doesn’t feel very good when I botch something.” She looked up beseechingly at him. “You aren’t afraid to fail?”

They spun again, and Felix’s attention landed on Thorne. Yes, Felix lived a life fearing failure. Failing his family. Failing his father. One wrong move, putting his trust in the wrong person—could be catastrophic.

Maybe he had picked himself back up—with his family’s help—all those years ago, but wasn’t he doing exactly the opposite of what he was telling the young woman in his arms? If he were leading by example, he’d tell her to never waltz again. Something deep inside his gut clenched.

He met Pandora’s innocent, open gaze. “I think it’s in our nature to fear failure,” he finally said.

“It is a survival instinct, so that we think through what we do and don’t blindly attempt things.

It is important to do things with intention, with thoughtfulness.

But no one traverses life without failing.

So, yes, I fear failure. But I shouldn’t let that stop me. ”

Pandora narrowed her stare. “But you do let it stop you.”

Goodness, she was perceptive for an imp. “Do as I say, not as I do?” He winked at her, and they both chuckled as they slowed to a stop.

He stepped back, bowing over her hand. “A pleasure, my lady. You were the epitome of grace.” He arched his brow. “Unlike myself.”

“Thank you, Felix.” She beamed up at him, her hands gripping her skirts as she flounced back and forth.

“You made it so much easier for me to feel comfortable. I wonder if I should just ask all my dance partners to trip at the start of each dance. I would feel so much better if all my dances began that way.”

Felix chuckled. He could imagine this young woman doing just that when she had her come out. “I have full faith in you, Pandora. You won’t even need to request a stumble to feel at ease; I don’t doubt it for a second.”

“And you don’t need to be afraid to make mistakes. I’ll always be your friend. I’ll probably be falling right alongside you.”

Felix’s throat grew thick. Well, bloody hell. The girl was so pure. If only it was that easy to change. If life were that simple.

“I need hand pies,” Pandora said.

Felix blinked at the abrupt change in topic, and the girl skipped toward the doorway of the great hall.

She turned back to him. “Thank you again for dancing with me, Felix.” She spun to face the pianoforte. “And thank you, Mr. Thorne!” Then she disappeared into the hall.

Well, then.

He slowly turned toward the pianoforte. And now Felix and Thorne were left alone. Just like that, the grandiose room felt much too small. Felix’s feet moved toward the pianoforte. He tried to stop them. He really did.

Being anywhere near this man, being alone with this man, was a disaster waiting to happen. They were oil and flame. A powder keg and a match. Felix had admitted to Lady Pandora he feared making mistakes. Felix’s traitorous feet halted at the pianoforte, and Thorne watched him, dark eyes guarded.

Thorne seemed to be a mistake Felix couldn’t stop making.

“You play well,” Felix said dumbly.

The man did more than play well. He was incredible.

There was no sheet music on the piano. Which meant the man either had committed the piece to memory or had crafted it on the spot to suit the waltz’s rhythm.

Felix had never wanted to be a pianoforte before.

But bloody hell, those talented fingers…

Felix would love to let that man tickle his ivories.

Urgh . What in the blazes did that even mean?

“Is that supposed to be an apology?” Thorne arched a black brow.

Bloody hell. Could the man fit his surname any better? He was so god-damned prickly.

“I had thought about possibly extending one, but now I’m thinking better of it,” Felix muttered. He inwardly groaned. Very mature of you, Felix. Are you an earl, or are you twelve?

Apparently, Thorne liked Felix’s petulance, because his lips twitched, and his eyes brightened slightly. He flipped his hand over and swept it over the keys, the rippling notes of the glissando breaking the silence.

“Do you duet?”

Felix hesitated, glanced around the room, and found it empty. Would it be so odd to find two men playing a duet? It was, in the very least, explainable. Felix slid onto the bench to Thorne’s right, leaving a healthy amount of space between him and Thorne.

“Any requests?” Thorne hovered his hands over the piano and glanced at Felix.

“ Greensleeves ?”

“Unsurprising choice,” Thorne murmured, and Felix rolled his eyes at the cheeky bastard. “Now, try to keep up.”

The bass notes of Greensleeves filled the hall as Thorne took up the piece on the lower register.

Felix hurried to join in, stumbling over the first few notes as he tried to catch up to Thorne and match the man’s rhythm.

But soon the two were in harmony and some of the tension melted from Felix as he let the English folk song’s tune sink over him.

Felix wasn’t especially talented when it came to piano, but he was adept enough to follow Thorne’s lead.

He could tell Thorne was testing him, changing his tempo, jumping up or down an octave so that Felix needed to adjust so their sounds were still in tune.

The small challenge sent a rush through Felix, a hint of joy bubbling up inside him.

Father had loved playing duets with them all.

They’d always ended up completely absurd, starting off with something by Hadyn or Mozart and then somehow ending up on the Harmonious Blacksmith .

That had been one of Father’s favorites.

It was fun, lively, just as he had been.

It had been a favorite pastime to see who could play the notes the fastest, usually with whoever wasn’t playing, dancing frantically in an attempt to keep up with the music.

Felix’s lips curled into a smile, even as his heart gave a sharp pang.

Thorne’s notes trailed off, and they both eased up on the keys.

Grey eyes clashed with Felix’s, lingering, then flicking to Felix’s smiling mouth and back up.

They were much closer than before, the duet drawing them in until their thighs nearly touched.

Felix could see each variation of grey bursting in those midnight eyes.

And there was something in that night sky, something that had Felix shifting in his seat.

“You weren’t as terrible as I expected.”

For once, Felix was grateful for the man’s cheek.

A sharp tongue was safer than eyes that saw too much.

The last thing he needed was to become sentimental and choked up in front of the man he’d just…

What would one even call last night? A brawl?

A collision of tempers and checked desires that had ended with Felix boneless and thoroughly put in his place?

“You could improve your form slightly, though,” Thorne murmured. He shifted over until his thigh pressed harder against Felix’s.

Felix stiffened, and his hand bumped into the keys, unleashing a discordant clamor. Thorne shot him an amused glance. “Christ, you’re always so starched up. If you adjusted your hand slightly, like this…” He mimed the form with his own hand.

Felix followed suit. Not that he could do anything else. His mind was buzzing. Thorne was much too close. For Felix’s sanity. If anyone were to walk in. Devonford wasn’t safe, like home. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

“More like this.” Thorne reached out and adjusted Felix’s hand.

Felix jerked his hand away and quickly put a foot of space between them, which nearly had him sliding right off the bench.

Something hard flashed in Thorne’s gaze, and his jaw instantly clamped shut.

Felix’s fingers fidgeted on the leather bench seat. “So, it’s not very typical for a master to permit his servants to touch his pianoforte,” he said, trying to distract himself from the urge to continually check the room for onlookers. “Even his well-trusted valet.”

“I’ve already mentioned my and Ash’s relationship isn’t your customary servant-master dynamic,” Thorne said stiffly.

Felix eyed him. “Yes. You had said best friends. Practically brothers. How exactly does a valet develop that sort of relationship with his master?” It was odd. Suspicious…

At first, Felix had thought there was more to their relationship. But Thorne had cleared that up. So, what on earth could create such a close friendship?

“My valet has served me since I inherited and served my father before me for most of his life. He has not once referred to me by my first name, never once broken decorum.”

“You ask a lot of questions, Bentley.”

“ Lord Bentley,” Felix quickly corrected, gaze shooting to the doorway.

He let out a slow breath. Empty doorway.

He asked a lot of questions because the man wasn’t forthwith with answers.

Felix didn’t like secrets. A man keeping a secret from him burned him in his past. Almost had been the end of him—

“Ah, yes. Of course. How could I forget my place?” Thorne’s cutting sarcasm ripped through Felix’s thoughts.

Thorne abruptly stood, sending the bench rocking, and Felix had to grab the edge to steady himself.

He dipped a shallow bow. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord . I apologize for my lapse in etiquette.”

Felix winced at Thorne’s retreating back. He hadn’t realized a person’s walk could say so much. But he had a very good feeling that man’s clipped walk was a silent curse aimed straight at Felix.

Or maybe that was just the guilt gnawing away at his gut.