“He always did like banging things.” She laughed at the memory of their childish theatricals in this very room. “After an hour of play, my ears used to ring.”
“That still happens on board.” He smiled broadly and then bent over. When he sat up, he had Arturo in his hand. “Not my boots, little beast.”
He passed the squirming cat to Sally. “I think this is yours too.”
“Yes. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. It is in his nature to protect his own.” He smiled softly. “Do you still play the harp?”
Sally settled the grumpy cat beside her feet and untangled a length of yarn she kept inside her glove for such moments. She dangled it beside her chair, and Arturo was distracted enough to leave the captain’s glossy black boots alone and swat at the toy instead. “You can be easy. I have ceased torturing family and friends in recent years.”
“I would not have called it torture exactly.” He tugged on his ear lobe a few times. “It was more a long and drawn out savaging of the eardrums.”
Sally shrank into her chair. He had teased her many times in the past that her playing could be used to defeat the French. She frowned at the memory as her middle cousin caressed a few keys of the instrument. In truth, she had stopped playing because of his remarks. She had begun to doubt herself, and not just in music. “Everyone is safe now.”
“I am only teasing you,” he whispered.
“Of course you are.”
He fidgeted. “You are the only musician I could ever sit still for on the harp.”
She faced him. “The truth is better, Felix. You hated my playing.”
A few of the candles were extinguished to add atmosphere to the room, and then Felix leaned closer. “I adored teasing you, just as you tease poor Arturo there. That is not the same thing as disliking your playing, and you know it.”
“I do not know anything.” She shook her head and shifted her attention to the pianoforte. “We never really knew each other, did we?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Yes we did,” Felix insisted. “And I will prove that I am exactly the man you said yes to once.”
She met his gaze, yearning for what they’d had but afraid to commit herself. Things were different now. Sally had never been comfortable harboring doubts, but she had plenty. Did she love him or simply love what he made her feel? There was no easy answer, so she kept quiet and kept her feelings to herself.
They were silent as Audrey commenced to play. As Ellicott had predicted, the tune was mournful and full of dramatic melancholy that sent a chill sweeping through her body. Audrey really did use music to cast her emotions on those around her, whether they wanted to feel them or not.
Sally nibbled on her finger, seeing her cousin’s state of mind with new clarity and concern. Audrey had always been an odd girl, too serious and yet timid despite her importance to everyone. How would she fare in London society in her first season? Would she be celebrated or ridiculed the way Ellicott had hinted she might?
As the piece ended, she glanced at Felix in fear of his reaction. He stood immediately, a wide smile on his face, and clapped, leading everyone else to join in with him.
He grinned down at her, and for a moment she was overwhelmed by his excitement. “My word. William had mentioned she played well, but I had no idea she was so good. At last, a pianist with substance and not the usual fluff and air pieces so often played in London.”
She stood slowly, aware that every inch of Felix was so near and yet so far away. “Truly?”
“Oh yes. She is simply wonderful.” He grinned, his blue eyes alight with passionate feeling. He had looked at her that way once. On the day she had accepted his proposal. “Warn her chaperones they will need to beat Audrey’s suitors back with a very heavy club when the girl makes her come-out.”
His confidence in Audrey’s prospects relieved her mind greatly, but it did not prevent her from being besieged by regret. He had claimed to love her once. Could he love her that way again? Could she ever forget and forgive?
Sally wanted, more than anything in her life, to find out what was real between them or just a memory. Around him she was herself, and he never made her feel that was wrong. They talked, they argued, they laughed together easily and made love as if it was the most natural thing to do. What would it feel like to join him in his room again? Was it love she felt from him or just attraction? He had threatened to have her if she sought him out, and she was so tempted. Very tempted, because the thought of him touching her intimately made her ache even in a crowded room.
He caught her staring and raised one brow. “Is the cat savaging your ankle?”
“No, I was just considering what you said today and…”
She had waited for Felix, and now that he was here she was not sure she could bear to let him go. She knew what she needed to do. She wanted everything Felix had promised her younger self they could be together.
He frowned, searching her face. “Sally?”
Now was not the time. “We should congratulate my cousin on her performance.”