It was such a perfect imitation of Graff’s scolding voice that Daemon’s lips curled in a snarl as he twisted around to face her, but the look on her face was a plea for understanding and her eyes were glazed with fear. Grinding his teeth, he placed his hands on the keys. “One, two, three, four.” They began to play.

She was badly frightened, and it had something to do with him. As they stumbled through the duet, he noticed Graff standing in the music room doorway, listening, observing, spying. They finished the duet and started again. The longer they played and the longer Graff watched them the more Wilhelmina mangled the music until Daemon wondered if they were playing the same piece. Certainly the sheet music he was reading had nothing to do with what he was hearing, and he winced more than once at the sounds being produced.

When Wilhelmina doggedly began the duet for the third time, Graff turned away with a grimace, and Daemon felt sourly envious of her ability to leave. As soon as she left, however, Wilhelmina began to play more smoothly, more quietly.

“You must never ask about Jaenelle,” she said so quietly Daemon had to lean toward her to hear. “If you can’t find her, you must never ask anyone where she is.”

“Why?”

Wilhelmina stared straight ahead. Her throat worked convulsively as if she were choking on the words. “Because if they find out, she might get into trouble, and I don’t want her to get into trouble. I don’t want her to go back to Briarwood.” She stopped playing and turned toward him, her eyes misty. “Do you?”

He smoothed her hair away from her face and lightly caressed her cheek. “No, I don’t want her to go back. Wilhelmina…Where is she?”

Wilhelmina started playing again, but quietly. “She goes for lessons in the mornings now. Sometimes she goes and sees friends.”

Daemon frowned, puzzled. “If she goes for lessons, surely your father or Alexandra or Leland had arranged—”

“No.”

“But a maid must accompany her and would—”

“No.”

As Daemon considered this, his hands slowly closed into fists. “She goes alone?” he finally said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

“Yes.”

“And your family doesn’t know she goes at all?”

“No, they mustn’t know.”

“And you don’t know where she goes or who gives her these lessons?”

“No.”

“But if your family found out about the lessons or who’s giving her lessons, they might put her back in the hospital?”

Wilhelmina’s chin quivered. “Yes.”

“I see.” Oh, yes, he did see. Beware of the Priest. She belongs to the Priest. It was careless of him to forget so formidable a rival. But she did have an innocent way of dazzling a man. He’d forgotten about the Priest. Was she with him now? What could Saetan, one of the living dead, have to offer that was preferable to what he, a living man, could offer her? But then, she wasn’t ready for what a man could offer. Would Saetan try to keep her away from him? If her family ever found out about the High Lord…