When at last her fingers rested, he moved to her side. There was no sheet music open before her. She had played from memory.
“That was incredible,” he said. “Unlike anything I have ever heard. Who was the composer?”
“Oh…I am.”
He stared at her. “How long does it take to compose something so wondrous?”
“I don’t know. Did you time me? It took however long it just did.”
“You made it up at this moment? Right in front of me? As you went along?”
“Essentially the same thing I did with Captain L’Amour.” She shrugged. “Just opened my mouth and let whatever felt like the best answer come tumbling out.”
Just like that. As though playing an overture were as easy as whipping up a hollandaise emulsion.
She returned her fingers to the keys.
He was moonstruck. He could not properly put together a simple rhyming couplet, much less compose an…aria? Concerto? Sonata? He didn’t even have the right words for the thing he could not do.
If he had thought her beautiful before, she was twice the goddess now. A force of nature in her true element, the keys and her fingers melding together like waves in the ocean. She looked ethereal and sounded transcendent. Vibrant and creative and utterly brilliant.
At the next break in the music, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “I don’t know how I can pay you back for this.”
“Simple,” he said. “You don’t try. I meant it as a gift, but now that I’ve heard you play, I see you’re the one with the gift. If you had the funds to rent one yourself, you would clearly have done so. This is truly my pleasure.”
“I will have the funds,” she said softly. “Two months from now. Oh, not for a piano like this, but for a perfectly serviceable pianoforte that I will love as if it were my own child.”
“Two months from now? Are you saving pin money?”
“I haven’t any.” She scooted over on the bench and motioned for him to sit beside her. “My parents died when I was twelve. I was the ward of my uncle for many years and still share his home at his mercy.”
He sat down next to her. “Then how?”
“My maternal grandmother came from money. Men—in particular, firstborn sons—inherit everything, but her will and testament created a legacy for female descendants. Ten percent of the trust’s total value as a dowry, or half that sum as an independent income if the girl is still unwed on her thirtieth birthday.”
“What a lovely gesture,” John said. “I wish more families would make similar provisions.”
“I wish they didn’t have to,” she said dryly.
A valid point.
“I hope the money is being invested well?”
“I hope so, too,” she said. “My uncle is the executor.”
John could not help but arch his brows. “Do you distrust his oversight of the funds?”
“Not at all. I believe the account has his full and complete attention. He receives an annual stipend based on the current worth.”
“I see,” John said. “It is in his best financial interest for you not to marry, and for him to then seek the greatest possible returns on the money he was not forced to withdraw for a dowry you didn’t use.”
“You do see,” she said in surprise. “It took me a while to reach those conclusions.”
“You were a grieving twelve-year-old child. I am paid to parse legal nuance. Do you know for certain those are the exact terms?”
“Yes,” she said. “But what kind of chef is paid to comprehend legal matters? Are things really so dire in the kitchen?”
“You’d be surprised what could go wrong,” he said wryly. “Which is why I’m making it a point to cover all possible—”
A tall, silver-haired man with a glass of brandy in one hand and an oversized cloud of white linen at his throat stormed into the room.
“I knew it was you!” he blustered. “Banging away at your own creations instead of playing the classics like a lady ought—”
“You’ve ensured I’m not a lady,” Allegra murmured.
“All classics were once new creations,” John added, standing.
“And who are you?” the tall man demanded.
Allegra rose from the piano bench. “Captain L’Amour, this is my uncle, Mr. Townsend. Uncle, this is—”
“I hope he doesn’t fancy himself a suitor,” the tall man said. “I don’t approve at all. Allegra, you shall come with me.”
“I would rather stay here and—”
“You cannot use this piano without paying for it, and I’m not paying.”
“I already did,” John said quietly. “Neither your purse nor your permission is required.”
Mr. Townsend’s face went red. “Now, you listen here. I don’t know who you think you are—”
“Captain Hamish L’Amour,” John said. “Recently.”
“I don’t care what you’re captain of, you’ve no right to insert yourself in matters that don’t concern you.”
“I’m very concerned about Miss Brown. You’re concerning me more with every word. Surely you cannot object to a talented pianist playing her instrument in a public venue?”
“What that ungrateful chit pleases to do has no bearing on—”
Miss Dorcas and Miss Portia bounded into the room.
“Father!” Miss Portia panted. “A widowed viscountess is looking for you—”
“It might have been a rich baroness,” Miss Dorcas interjected.
“Or a lonely countess,” Miss Portia agreed. “In any case, she’s short a player for whist, and—”
“Looking for me?” Mr. Townsend drained the last of his brandy and set the empty glass atop the pianoforte. “We’ll discuss Allegra’s failure to chaperone you properly first thing tomorrow.”
“It was we who were improper,” Miss Dorcas said. “We were right there, with her, and then we ran away.”
“If she cannot control you—”
“It’s not her fault! No one can control our…female…conditions.” Miss Portia made circular motions at her midriff.
Her father blanched. “Bah! I don’t need to hear about such things. I am trying to secure our futures. Stay with your cousin, who shall not let you out of her sight again for any reason. Is that understood?”
His daughters bobbed their heads with expressions of such overly angelic innocence, John half expected lighting to shoot down through the plastered ceiling and strike them where they stood.
Mr. Townsend hurried off.
Miss Dorcas and Miss Portia looked at each other and giggled. Miss Dorcas ran up to the pianoforte, picked up the empty brandy glass, and tilted it toward her sister.
“Come, Portia. We must return this detritus to the furthest possible footman, thus accidentally leaving Allegra and Captain L’Amour alone in the music room, where anything might happen.”
Miss Portia waved her fingers toward her cousin. “Have a lovely time sinning sinfully together, lovebirds!”
She and her sister scrambled from the room before John or Allegra could answer.