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.They both understood that arguing over something as trivial as dinner was only a distraction from the looming absence of Nicholas.“You are insufferably overbearing,” she said.“It’s part of my charm.”Beneath the table his leg pressed hers, not in a suggestive way, but a simple confirmation of his presence.Had it not caused talk, she would have leaned against him.But already she could see the avid eyes noting his solicitousness of her.The gossips would fasten upon it.But it did not matter.She had no future at Darien’s side.After dinner, the emperor stood and invited his guests to repair to the public parlors for more music and celebration.Clara did not think she could bear it.“I’ll escort you back to your suite,” Darien said, clearly reading her mood.She took his arm and let him lead her from the overly warm banquet room.In the relative quiet and cool of the hallway outside, Clara drew in a deep breath.There was so much she wanted to say to Darien, but the words were tangled in her heart, with no hope of unraveling.They traversed the corridors in silence.Months ago she would have been overawed at the abundance of gold leaf, the rich carpets beneath their feet, the sparkling crystal sconces and rich oil paintings lining the walls.Now the opulence was merely a blur.She would be glad to never see such splendor again, as long as Nicholas was returned to her, whole and well.Darien ushered her into her suite and followed her in, closing the door firmly behind him.Without a word, she went to him, and he folded her into his arms.The tears she had been choking back all day fell freely, and she shook in his embrace.He held her, one hand stroking her hair, until her misery had spent itself, then offered his kerchief.Clara wiped the scrim of tears from her cheeks.“Come, lie down,” he said, leading her to the bedroom.The tall bed was neatly made, the dark blue coverlet and mass of pillows inviting her to rest.Aching and tear-stained, she perched on the side of the mattress and let Darien remove her slippers.His touch was comforting, and though she felt the strength and heat of him, he did not demand her affections or press her for more than she could offer.Instead, he held up her dressing gown and helped her don it, then pulled back the sheets.“Stay with me,” she said.She could not bear to be alone with her thoughts, her regrets.“I will.”While Darien slipped off his shoes and shrugged out of his coat, she slid across the soft white sheets to make a place for him.The bed gave under his weight, and she gratefully rolled against him, coming to rest with her ear pressed against his chest.He pulled her even closer, one arm circling her waist.His heartbeat was steady, an even rhythm she matched her breath to.“Sleep.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead.Embraced in his warmth, Clara took a long, shuddering breath.Exhaustion crashed upon her, the weight of fear and worry heavy as iron.She closed her eyes, and fell into the blessed relief of slumber.***When she awoke the next morning, Darien was gone.Unlike the morning before, the sheets where he’d lain still held the warmth and scent of him.Clara burrowed into them, inhaling deeply.But there was no escaping the day.Throwing off the covers, she rang for the maid.She would face whatever came, and hold fast to her hope.After dressing and taking a small breakfast in her rooms, Clara went in search of Darien.He was pacing like a caged panther in his parlor.At the sight of her, his expression lightened.“I trust you slept well?” he asked, the secret between them gleaming in his eyes.“I did, thank you.” She glanced at Peter, who sprawled, rumpled and weary, in a nearby chair.“Any news?”“No, and I was up half the night helping with the search.”“Get some sleep,” Darien said, in a voice that brooked no argument.“I will need my agent in a better state than you are now when we go to La Scala this evening.”Peter hoisted himself from the chair and scrubbed one hand over his face.“We’ll depart promptly at seven.”The musical competition was scheduled to commence at eight o’clock.Less than twelve hours.Clara folded her arms across her ribs.Oh, Nicholas, where are you?“We’ll be ready.” Darien swept up his violin case and tipped his head at her.“Clara, come assist me.I must warm up and run through the pieces.With a piano.Nicholas will appear in time.” He sounded so confident.“But…” She could scarcely bring herself to say the words [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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