I Dropped A Bomb On A Duke’s Party — His Reaction Left Me Speechless
Part 2
The final chord decayed slowly, the heavy felt hammers settling back onto the copper wound strings inside the belly of the massive Steinway .
But the sound lingered in the floorboards, vibrating in the soles of my damp boots and buzzing in the marrow of my shin bones .
My hands remained suspended over the keys in a frozen, claw-like grip as my chest heaved .
The silence in the drawing room was absolute, heavy, and suffocating like a wool blanket thrown over a fire .
Reality crashed over me with the violent force of a physical blow as the adrenaline evaporated, leaving behind a cold, nauseating panic .
Two pounds.
I had just burned the two pounds that meant coal for December and the cough tonic my sister Heather needed to sleep without coughing up blood .
I dropped my hands to my lap, my fingers curling inward to hide the violent tremor shaking my wrists .
I had traded our survival for three minutes of petty, self-indulgent rage .
The spell in the room broke, dissolving into an ugly, confused murmur as silk rustled frantically and guests physically shifted their weight away from the piano .
From the periphery of my vision, Brenda detached herself from the wall, moving with the terrifying, silent speed of a predator .
I braced myself, reaching for the frayed edges of my satchel with clumsy, numb hands to pack my sheet music .
“Miss Megan,” she hissed, coming to a halt directly behind the piano bench, smelling overwhelmingly of peppermint and iron .
“Take your hands off that instrument right now, get your things, and exit through the scullery.”
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, asking softly about the two pounds .
“You will receive absolutely nothing, and you are fortunate I do not have the footman throw you into the gravel,” she whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed rage .
“Get out.”
I fumbled with the sheet music, my hands shaking so badly I tore the corner of the heavy paper, the sound sickeningly loud in the tense room .
“Leave her, Brenda.”
The voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a straight razor, causing Brenda’s spine to snap entirely rigid .
Brian stepped away from the mantelpiece, looking directly at the back of my neck, ignoring the housekeeper and his guests entirely .
“Your grace,” Brenda stammered, her iron composure cracking .
“I said, leave her,” Brian repeated, his tone dropping the temperature in the room and forcing Brenda to take a hurried step backward into the shadows .
“Dinner is served in the formal dining room,” Brian interrupted his confused guests, his eyes entirely flat .
“Don’t let me keep you from the partridge.”
The guests exchanged bewildered, panicked glances at the massive breach of etiquette before moving like a herd of frightened sheep toward the double doors .
The heavy doors clicked shut behind the last of them, and the suffocating pressure of twenty judging minds was replaced by the sheer, terrifying weight of one .
I sat paralyzed on the backless bench, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for the axe to fall .
He had just thrown out his wealthy investors over a hired pianist, and as he slowly walked toward me in the empty room, I only had one terrifying question: what was he going to do to me?
