The Time Baroness (The Time Mistress Series) by Georgina Young- Ellis

themselves busy playing for the opera and the theatre. Many of them are employed by the large London parishes and play at religious services. They are usually only available to play with me during the off-season. After all, musicians must play, and we prefer to play with other musicians. Of course, I am speaking of string musicians in particular, and the brass and woodwinds. Those of you who perform on the pianoforte are the true soloists.”
    “No, actually, I love to play duets, and I do love to accompany ,” she stated with a grin. “I do not always have to be the sun around which everything revolves.”
    He laughed. “Then perhaps you would like to accompany me now. I have been practicing a Bach sonata for violin and harpsichord with no accompaniment, waiting for the day when I would find an accomplished enough musician around Selborne. I think I may have found her.”
    “Well, I have never played it, but I shall try. You will have to pardon my fumbles.”
    “It is only you and me,” he said, “It matters not.” He held out his hand to her and led her to the piano. “It is not a harpsichord, but it is close enough. Here is the score.”
    They played it through, stopping and starting again twice, but once they found their mutual rhythm, the music flowed naturally. He was more familiar with the piece and was able to watch her as she played and adjust when needed to her tempo. She tuned into him with her ears and her heartbeat. She began to feel his urges toward crescendo or decrescendo. The mathematical logic of Bach united with their intuitive senses in a feeling of great fulfillment.
    After the final notes of the piece sounded, Cassandra sat quietly at the piano, her eyes still resting on the music. Mr. Johnston took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. They looked at each other. A smile formed at the corners of his eyes, and she could not suppress her delight.
    “How immensely pleasing,” Mr. Johnston noted.
    “I could not be happier,” remarked Cassandra.
    “Will you stay to dinner?”
    “I shall be honored.”
******
    Mr. Johnston rode back to Sorrel Hall alongside Cassandra. William had become frantic at her long absence (she had quite forgot about him) and had sent two stable boys out to look for her. Cassandra apologized profusely, and after Mr. Johnston explained how he’d discovered her lost, William seemed appeased.
    From the stables, Mr. Johnston walked Cassandra to the house. “When can we meet again to play?” he asked.
    Cassandra thought for a moment. “I think we should meet here, at Sorrel Hall. I am afraid—” She wasn’t sure how to put it delicately. “That our playing together may seem a bit—”
    “Unorthodox?”
    She laughed. “Yes, unorthodox, that we are meeting to play at all. But if we do so at my home, at least my household staff and, perhaps our various neighbors, will not be as disapproving as they would of my going to a gentleman’s house unescorted.”
    “Yes, I understand your thinking. When are you free next to meet?”
    She briefly ran over her social calendar in her head, which was, thankfully, sparse.
    “Saturday, I believe, would be perfect. You like to play in the morning, though I prefer the afternoon, but I would be happy to accommodate you—”
    “I would not hear of such a thing. We can alternate mornings and afternoons. And we can communicate by messenger to arrange day to day.”
    “Yes, all right.” Her heartbeat quickened.
    “I will see you the day after tomorrow, then. Shall we say ten o’clock?”
    “I look forward to it immensely.”
    “And I shall bring the Bach.”
    “Wonderful!”
    “Goodnight, Mrs. Franklin.” He took her hand and kissed it gently.
    Her skin tingled. “Goodnight, Mr. Johnston.” She turned and went into the house.
******
    The next morning, she informed Mrs. Merriweather to expect Mr. Johnston on a regular basis as her musical partner and guest, her stomach churning as she did so. The housekeeper merely nodded