Through Gypsy Eyes Read Free Page A

bed a woman this night deflated, so he set out for Westpoint Manor. It would seem there was time to hunt for game to appease the estate’s cook before he arrived after all.

Chapter Three
    “Miss Daysland?”
    Delilah turned from the piano. With effort she kept her expression neutral despite the maid’s unwanted interruption of her music devotions. “Yes, Teresa?”
    “There’s a Lord Frost here to see you.”
    “Who?” Delilah frowned, trying to place the unfamiliar name.
    “A Lord Frost, says he’s the Earl of Merryweather.”
    It was customary for gentlemen to drop by to speak with her father on occasion; however, none ever requested to see her. Perhaps it was someone who only recently learned of her sire’s death and wished to offer condolences. She turned back to the piano, settling her fingers on the smooth keys. “Tell him I am indisposed and send him on his way.”
    “Very well, miss, but I’ve the notion he’ll not be pleased at being dismissed. If you’ll pardon my saying so, he looks rather used to getting his way.”
    Delilah shrugged. “Then have Aims take care of him.” The beefy butler could always be counted on to deal with an unwanted guest.
    “As you wish, miss.”
    She waited until the door closed signaling the maid’s retreat before beginning to play her favorite soft, haunting melody. Swaying in time to the piece, she lost herself in the passion and sadness it incited. After so little sleep the night before she needed something to soothe her restless mind. A smile curved her lips as she skipped her fingers across the keyboard, picking out each note with a sure feel. Though yet cool in the room, experience told her by afternoon it would be hot and sticky, unless of course the rain chose to spare them for a day. She sniffed.
Pity, it does not smell like rain.
She inhaled again, hoping she missed the damp smell forewarning a delightful storm.
No, everything still smells of dryness and dust.
    Someone knocked on the door, but she ignored it. A slight draft of heavy air brushed the back of her neck laid bare by her braid coiled on top of her head. Another servant no doubt, seeking her attention. They could wait. She had nothing but time these days.
    “Miss? The lord, he refuses to leave. He says he’s your guardian.”
    Guardian?
She scowled when her fingers fumbled and played the wrong note, leaving a sharp echo in the room. “I have no guardian and certainly no need of one, Teresa.” She picked up the tune where she left off. “Send him away.”
    Another draft tickled the back of her neck, confirming the maid left to follow her directive. Again she focused on the notes, losing herself in their purity.
Ah yes, softer now, like feathers brushing the air …
    Crash!
    Delilah mashed the chord beneath her hands, her startled gasp covered by the mismatched moan of the piano. To compose herself, she took a deep breath and repositioned her hands. Seething with anger at the interruption, she rebuked, “Teresa, how many times have I requested to be left undisturbed during my morning practice? Honestly, if you cannot handle removing one simple man from my parlor, then I shall have to hire someone else who can.”
    “I am not a
simple
man, nor am I accustomed to being removed against my wishes.”
    Delilah froze at the unexpected baritone, laced with anger.
Good Lord, does the uncouth man think I will invite him for tea if he barges into my music room like a rampaging bull?
She resisted the urge to turn around and berate him, thus allowing him to see her weakness. “Please remove yourself from my music room.”
    Footsteps crossed the carpet, much lighter than she would have expected a man’s to be. “I will not. I have been sent by the king and, as your better, demand you show me proper respect.”
    He stood right behind her, most probably staring at her, the unwelcome heat of his breath irritating the back of her neck. Anger radiated from his pores in a way that made her fingers curl on the