Robert almost smiled at that. Then he looked down.
A dark red drop gleamed on the floor near his left shoe. Another lay two feet beyond it. A third marked the oak beneath the pianoforte bench.
His expression changed. While the room applauded the woman in green silk, the Duke followed the blood.
Matilda was already placing the next score on the stand.
"Miss Dracott." His voice was not loud, but it carried.
Her hands stopped. Several nearby conversations faded. Matilda looked up and found the Duke of Wexborne standing beside the pianoforte. At first, she assumed he meant to ask about the next piece.
"Your Grace?"
His gaze lowered to the floor, then to her ivory slipper. "Are you injured?"
Hester laughed before Matilda could answer. "Oh, surely not. Matilda is forever forgetting herself when there is music to finish."
Matilda felt every eye near the pianoforte turn toward her. The old instinct came at once: minimize, reassure, make no trouble. "It's only the shoe, Your Grace."
Robert looked at the blood beneath her foot. "Shoes rarely bleed."
A few guests shifted. Hester's smile tightened. "Matilda is devoted to finishing what she begins."
Robert turned his head toward her. His tone remained mild. "Does devotion ordinarily require blood in this house?"
Silence moved outward from the pianoforte. Matilda felt heat rise to her face. She would have preferred the pain; pain was private, attention was not.
"I am quite able to continue," she said.
"I don't doubt it," Robert replied. "That isn't the question."
Something in his voice unsettled her more deeply than pity would have. There was no pity in it, no indulgence—only attention. Exact, unwelcome, impossible attention.
He looked toward the housekeeper standing near the rear door. "Mrs. Canning, is there a female attendant who may assist Miss Dracott?"
"At once, Your Grace."
Hester took one step forward. "There is really no need to interrupt the evening."
Robert glanced at the program in his hand. "Then the evening will survive five minutes without Miss Dracott." His eyes moved to the musicians, who were waiting in visible uncertainty. "Unless, of course, it cannot."
The first violinist lowered his bow. No one answered.