Free At the Duke’s Pleasure by Tracy Anne Warren Page A

to extricate herself from their brother.
    Should she or shouldn’t she?
    She was still considering her decision when Mallory took a seat at the pianoforte and played a few practice notes. “Ready?” Mallory asked, sending her an encouraging smile.
    Nodding, Claire waited for the music to begin. Nerves writhed like a handful of little green snakes in her stomach, her pulse beating faster than normal. The song began, the notes racing quickly upon her as she tried to keep pace with the beat. And then the moment arrived.
    Sing or don’t sing? Sing well or make a hash of it?
    Pulling in a hasty breath, she decided at the last second to sing well.
    Instead, the first note croaked from her throat, a cacophonous sound that erupted like a drunken belch that shot high at the end.
    Her eyes widened, along with those of everyone else in the room.
    Mallory’s gaze flashed upward, despite the fact that her fingers continued to move over the keyboard.
    Edward’s dark brows drew tight, while the twins’ faces froze in mirror images of astonishment.
    Lord Drake’s pencil fell still.
    As for her mother, Claire didn’t have the nerve to glance in her direction.
    “S-Sorry,” she called out, waving a hand for Mallory to quit playing. “I…um…don’t know what happened. A case of dry throat, I suppose.”
    Without asking her permission, one of the twins—Leo, she believed—poured a glass of wine and brought it across to her.
    “Thank you,” she whispered, giving him a tiny smile.
    Eyes twinkling, he winked at her before turning away.
    “Shall we try again?” Mallory asked.
    Lifting the wine to her lips, Claire took a long drink.
    And so here she was with yet another chance to appall Edward. Several more murdered notes and a few remarks afterward about how much she loved to sing and the duke might indeed have second thoughts about saddling himself to a lifetime of potential auditory torture.
    But as she gazed around the room at the others, she knew she still couldn’t go through with it. Taking another drink, she set the wine aside, then nodded to Mallory. “All right. Let’s try.”
    A hush fell, as everyone waited to hear her next attempt.
    This time when she began, her voice rang out clear and strong, each note rounded and sweet. Approval filled the room, along with relieved pleasure, the entire group relaxing to enjoy the music.
    From his place on the sofa, Edward watched her, his gaze filled with contemplation and curiosity. And then he smiled, his mouth curving in a slow upward tilt that signaled the depth of his pleasure.
    Pride swelled in her chest. Pride and something more, something treacherous that she had no business letting herself feel. Yet there it was nevertheless, an insidious need to earn his approval. To make him like her.
    Love her?
    Closing her eyes, she fought the weakness as she let her voice soar, intertwining with Mallory’s beautiful piano playing.
    Seconds after she finished, applause rang out, together with huzzahs from the twins and enthusiastic clapping from Lord Drake. She smiled, a glow of accomplishment spreading through her chest. Then she gazed at Edward and found him not in his seat, but standing halfway across the room.
    He was reading a note; the footman, who must have brought it, already exiting the room. Claire watched as Edward perused the missive, then folded the paper in half. She expected him to turn and rejoin the party, to rejoin her. Instead, he tucked the note into his jacket pocket and crossed to murmur some quick aside to Drake. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he strode to the door and out of the room.
    Her shoulders sank, every ounce of her previous pride and excitement evaporating. Perhaps the message he’d received was important and his departure could not be helped. But was it so important that he couldn’t have spared a single minute to bid her adieu? Or had he forgotten her the moment the note arrived? Was she little more than an afterthought that had