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She did not move. “Would you like to join me?”
How the devil was he meant to extricate himself from this? Was she intentionally being obtuse, or did she think she still had a chance with Wesley?
He could not contrive an alternative quickly enough, so he stood, giving her a smile. “I would love to play.”
But he did not offer his arm as they crossed the room.
His smile only grew when he reached the table holding the pudding-shaped mound of flour with a coin resting on top, because Millie had followed him over.
“Are you going to play?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her answering smile was dazzling. “Be prepared for a face full of flour, because I am very skilled at this game.”
Wesley resisted the urge to run his fingers through her dark hair and kept his hands firmly at his sides. He could not, however, suppress his grin. “Do your worst.”
Chapter Twenty
One of the brightest moments of the house party thus far was witnessing Wesley lose at bullet pudding and dig around in the pile of flour with his face, pulling the coin out between his lips. He had blinked at Millie in his success, flour dropping from his eyelashes and covering his cheeks, and she had not been able to contain her laughter.
It was as Mr. Stroud spoke to her in the breakfast room that Millie was called back from thinking about the previous night. She had felt momentary bliss when she had pushed the secret suitor to the back of her mind, lacking concern over whether Mr. Stroud or Mr. Kendrick were attempting to privately court her. It had only been her and Wesley in that moment, with no other distractions.
Now Mr. Stroud would not let her pass.
“If you have a moment free, Miss Hollis, I would greatly appreciate your ear.”
Millie inhaled, looking around the room for someone who might save her from being alone with Mr. Stroud, but no one she knew had come down to breakfast yet.
Drat.
“Should we wait for my sister and her husband?”
“Their addition to our party would have been enjoyable, but since they are not present, I do not see a reason to wait.”
“Very well.” Millie had nothing else to say. “Yes, Mr. Stroud. It would be lovely to hear your song.”
His face lit up. “Capital. If you will follow me.”
She took his arm and walked with him down the passage toward the music room. They left the door propped open. Mr. Stroud’s music was spread upon the pianoforte. A chair had been set directly in front of the piano, facing the instrument, with no other seat beside it.
Mr. Stroud led her to it. “If you would like to be seated.”
“Thank you.”
Mr. Stroud waited until she had settled before taking his seat at the pianoforte and closing his eyes. He drew in a nervous breath, then exhaled slowly.
Then, he did so again. Time ticked by on the mantel clock as Mr. Stroud breathed in peace. Millie glanced at the door to ascertain it remained open, then clasped her hands lightly on her lap.
After another few minutes, Mr. Stroud began. His fingers hit the keys with the same careful consideration he did everything, and the music he produced was lovely.
Until it neared the end. He slammed his hands down hard on a series of chords, making Millie jump in her seat. Her heart pounded as he returned to the peaceful melody of before, but she braced herself for another jarring burst of music that never came.
When silence fell over the room, Millie found her entire body had tensed.
She relaxed enough to clap lightly.
Mr. Stroud let out a long breath before standing in front of the pianoforte and bowing deeply. Not a golden hair moved on his head. “What did you think?”
“It was very well played, Mr. Stroud. I particularly enjoyed the beginning portion.”