The Lord Who Adored Her and Other Love Songs (ART OF LOVE #5) by Charlie Lane EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Charlie Lane
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.8 MB
- Price: Free
October 1822
Not a day passed in which Lord Atlas Bromley didn’t fall in love.
Today the pianoforte in his brother’s music room demanded his
admiration. Shiny and sleek, gorgeous legs, a voice to tune a man’s
heart. This instrument could bring him joy, string it high in the air and
weave it deep into his bones. He closed his eyes, tested a key, thrilled at the
pitch of the sweet note. Yes, joy.
Or a new song to sell to the highest bidder. But weren’t those two things
the same these days?
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He sat on the bench and pinged out a song, something bouncy and
bonny just like the instrument. But it couldn’t be about the instrument. It
must be about … ah, yes, naturally, a buxom beauty with a grin like the sun.
He hummed, picking through words and images, finding a few good ones.
A very few.
Then he sang, “No star or sunbeam can compare. No other instrument
half so fair.” His fingers froze above the keys. “Bollocks.” He’d have to
replace instrument with lass or some such. Yes, that would work well. He
picked up the tune once more, humming first, singing after the words
poured into his brainbox. “My bonny lass, so shapely. My bonny lass, so
smooth. My bonny lass elates me. My bonny lass, my truth.”
He snapped his hands away from the keys, laid his gently curled fingers
atop his thighs. Not a perfect rhyme, that, and a bit … nonsensical. What
did it mean for a woman to be your truth? He stood and abandoned the
music room. Didn’t matter. The song would sell, and no one would ever ask
what it meant.
“Atlas.” His brother, Lord Andrew, strode down the hall, glasses
perched perfectly on his nose, hiding blue eyes beneath sandy-brown hair.
His tiny, intimidating secretary—Mrs. Amelia Dart—bustled just behind
him like an extension of his body. “Are you ready?”
Atlas tried to fold in on himself when Drew reached his side. His
brother stood taller than most men, and Atlas still eclipsed him. Stood out
like the tallest, broadest tree in the forest. Always. When he really just
wanted to be lost in the woods, beneath the branches, alone and observing.
“I am.” Atlas set his steps in line with his brother’s, headed toward a
small schoolroom in the back corner of the Waneborough Charitable School
of Art, an establishment run by their brother, Lord Theodore, and his wife,
Lady Cordelia.
His brother and secretary were in London for only a short
time before returning to Manchester where Drew’s educational agency was
located. They were expanding to London and looking for locations, and
Atlas had convinced Drew to help him search for a cabinetmaker or joiner
to assist Atlas back home at Briarcliff. “I’d like you to do most of the
talking.”
Not even a hitch in Drew’s step. “Why? I see no reason. You’re the one
who needs an assistant, not me. I’ve got one already.”
Atlas glanced at Mrs. Dart.
She rolled her eyes. Then hopped when she realized she’d been caught,
her black curls bobbing. Her cheeks flushed, and she popped her chin into
the air. “Lord Atlas, were you playing the pianoforte?”
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