His realization had nothing to do with the powerful emotion he’d felt when contemplating her in the arms of a husband. No. Such a thought was a disservice to them both. Notonman would be worthy of Jack. No matter how good or kind, they’d expect her to mold herself to society. And that was the truth.

Yes, this was the answer. And he couldn’t wait to share it with her.

This seemed a much better life for Jack than marriage to some boring Englishman who would put her in the country and never be interested in—

He stopped on the stairs. The music floating out the open window of the townhouse washed over him and held him captive, enraptured.

The notes were so luxurious, so deep and full of emotion, he could barely draw breath. In an instant, he knew exactly who was playing.

Jack.

Jack was playing, and those notes, each coming through the air in waves, felt like the caress of her hands and lips upon his body, and it was all he could do not to turn around and flee.Flee.He, the Duke of Stone. But there he was, caught in her musical embrace and absolutely captivated by her.

She made him feel so much more than he had ever felt, and it terrified him. His entire adult life had been held in rigid accord with the idea that he never felt too much. That he held stoic in the face of all storms and pleasures.

With Jack, he found himself swept up, untethered, and marveling at the world.

She truly was the most glorious of women, and society was asking that she make herself average.

He refused to partake in that.

He wanted more for Jack than just a marriage of convenience that would ensure her and her family security. He wanted the glory for her that he could feel in every note she touched, with every passionate rise of music and refrain. Each note she played struck a chord deep within him as powerfully as the chords struck inside the piano.

Just as he was about to storm the steps and tell her that she should never marry and devote herself to music, there was a shout and a scramble. The thudding of feet flew through the air, and he heard Jack’s voice shout in a firm, terse bellow, “Give those back, Edward, or I’ll murder you right now!”

Edward let out a cry of delight and clearly made flight.

James climbed the steps, intrigued. He’d never had more than his mother and father. And they’d been mostly absent except for when they had been volatile beyond words.

He shook the dark thoughts away before they could take root. He was not here to spread such misery.

The sound of sibling rivalry was a confusion to him. Were they going to murder each other in truth? He doubted it and found himself looking forward to witnessing their antics. It had been years since he’d seen Edward, and he’d been little more than a baby when they’d left for Vienna.

As soon as he reached the door, it opened immediately, and the butler, Heaton, allowed him in.

“Good day, Heaton,” he said. “I am here to see—”

“Forgive me, sir, but Lord Blackbrook is not here.”

“I’m not here to see Lord Blackbrook,” he replied pleasantly. “I am here to see his sister.”

Heaton coughed and brought a gloved hand to his mouth. “Oh, well, Your Grace, Lady Louise is having breakfast.”

He shook his head. “No, no, not Lady Louise. I am here to see Lady Jacqueline.”

“Lady Jacqueline?” Heaton asked, his silver brows drawing together.

Why was it so shocking? Did she never have callers? “Indeed, would you have the good grace to tell her that I am here?”

“Of course,” he said, stepping back so that the duke could gain admittance.

James crossed further through the foyer and placed his hands behind his back, waiting, even as he heard the steps crashing through the house.

“Give it back!” he heard Jack bellow again.

“Never!” Edward called defiantly. And then Edward was racing through the foyer and storming past him, out the door.

Before he could look, he felt a body collide into his. He was so distracted, he lost his footing and tumbled to the floor.


Tags: Eva Devon Historical