Free The Lady of Bolton Hill by Elizabeth Camden

self-indulgent grandiosity. Do you want to come by my house and listen to it?”
    “You’ve still got it?”
    “Naturally. I wrote it for you.”
    “Then I must hear it.” She took the seat again beside him on the stone wall. “So tell me about this grand company of yours. I should probably treat you with a little more deference, now that you are some exalted corporate titan.”
    “Yes, you certainly should,” Daniel agreed. But he did tell her about his corporation, and the house he had built for his family on the north side of town, of which he seemed particularly proud.
    The years fell away, and once again, they were like two enraptured youths. As Daniel talked, he leaned forward and a lock of his hair tumbled onto his forehead, just as it had when they were kids. It was so familiar, but now Clara had to clasp her hands together to prevent herself from smoothing the lock of hair back from his forehead. The skin around his eyes had tiny fan lines that deepened when he smiled, and he still had that eager, roguish look when he grinned. Her best friend had returned to her, but he had grown into a man. And for the life of her, Clara did not know if it would be possible to stay friends with Daniel Tremain anymore. How could she maintain an even keel when she was so utterly enthralled by him? Daniel’s magnetism had the strength of an incoming tide that grew stronger by the minute, and Clara had little desire to resist it.
    All of a sudden, the sun was low in the sky, with shadows lengthening across the lawn. Clara tried to ignore the lateness of the hour, as this had been one of the most magical afternoons of her life and she wanted to cling to every moment. The concert had let out hours ago, and her father was liable to send out men to search for her if she did not return soon.
    “It’s getting late. . . .” she said finally but hesitantly.
    “I’ll let you go if you agree to meet me again.” The immediacy of Daniel’s request made Clara bite back a smile.
    “When?”
    “Tomorrow.”
    Clara hesitated. “I can’t,” she said. “I promised Clyde I would accompany him to Washington, D.C., for a few days. He is meeting with a committee about the Navajo reservation, and I would like the chance to get acquainted with some members of Congress. I can’t pass up an opportunity like this.”
    “I have a copy of Two Rhapsodies by Brahms. A new work, opus 79,” Daniel said. “It arrived by special delivery last week.”
    Clara’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re joking!” She adored Brahms, and judging by the wicked gleam in his eye, Daniel knew his lure was a mighty temptation.
    “We can meet at the Music Conservatory for old times’ sake,” Daniel said. “It has fallen into disrepair, but it’s still there.”
    Clara rose and shook the grass from her skirts, hearing her father’s warning voice in her mind. “You must not let Daniel derail you from your life’s goals.” How many times had she heard that refrain when she was growing up? She pursed her lips, angered that her father’s words made so much sense at this particular moment. The sting of his betrayal in intercepting her letters to Daniel was still fresh, but on one level her father was correct. Daniel had always had the power to utterly dazzle her, and she had only a few weeks left with Clyde before he returned to Arizona Territory. Daniel was already proving to be a dangerous temptation, and she could not turn her back on Clyde for the sake of hearing a Brahms rhapsody.
    “I’ll be back in Baltimore in three days’ time,” she said. She would not let him budge her from her resolve. A good sister would go to Washington with Clyde as she had promised, and not suffer the least bit of temptation from Daniel. She ought to feel guilty for even contemplating it.
    “Near the end of the B minor rhapsody, the fingering is so wild and intense, I doubt even your hands could keep up with it.”
    She glanced over at him and could not help