Just a Little Heartache

by Merry Farmer

  “Right,” Niall sighed, trying to hide his disappointment after the last audition, turning to face the hopefuls at the back of the room. “If that’s the last of you, we can move on to reading scenes, and—”

  “Am I too late?”

  The man who dashed into the room was out of breath, his unfashionably curly hair tousled as though he’d run through the wind to reach the choir room, his face splashed with pink and hazel eyes bright. He was the most beautiful man Niall had ever seen in his life. He lifted what had to be a satchel of books off of his shoulder as he strode into the room, approaching Niall’s table, chest heaving as he caught his breath. He walked with an easy manner, smiling as he did, seeming to bring sunshine into the room with him.

  “I’m not too late, am I?” he asked again.

  Niall shook himself, realizing he’d been staring, dumbstruck, at the man. His lips were the most fascinating shape Niall had ever known. He instantly wanted to touch them, to kiss and explore them.

  That thought startled him to full attention. Not only was the man built like an athlete in a way that radiated masculinity, Niall knew him. At least, he knew him from afar. Any student at the university would be hard-pressed not to know who Blake Williamson, Marquess of Stanley, future Duke of Selby, was.

  “You’re just in time,” Niall answered, his voice going high and soft. He cleared his throat, forcing himself not to sound like a complete ninny, and went on with, “We were just about to start readings, but if you have a song to perform for your audition, we’ll do that first.”

  “I do,” the man said with a breathless nod. “Let me just put my things down and catch my breath.”

  “Take your time,” Niall said, giggling.

  When Blake turned away from him, heading to the back of the room to set down his satchel and remove the light coat he wore, Niall grimaced at himself. Giggling? Was he actually giggling at gentlemen now? Hadn’t he just told John and David to be careful about being so obvious they were found out? Niall didn’t have the first clue about whether the future Duke of Selby was like them, even. Although by the look of him and the way he commanded the room as he walked over to the piano, he was far too powerful and sure of himself to be that way. It was a terrible loss.

  Niall had to blink himself out of a near stupor of observing the man as Blake said something to David that caused David to get up from the piano.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I accompany myself,” Blake said. “It would be a shame to waste all those piano lessons.”

  “I don’t mind at all. Go right ahead,” Niall said, fighting tooth and nail not to giggle again. He’d been lucky enough to hear Blake sing and play at a student event at Christmas, and was well aware the man had talent.

  Blake nodded at him, their eyes meeting for a moment. Blake’s smile widened and their gaze held just a fraction longer than Niall would have expected before Blake glanced down at the keys. A few pretty chords sounded, then Blake launched into the lilting strains of a popular ballad.

  His voice was magical—a clear, melodious tenor. Even John sat up straighter as the song went on. Blake sang with emotion and vitality. His playing was just as good, far better than David’s had been. The intensity of feeling that the song demanded shone through in Blake’s face. Niall was absolutely captivated. His heart seemed to expand and squeeze in his chest simultaneously. His blood pumped faster, sending heat through him in the most inconvenient way. He should have been alarmed that his cock responded to the sound of Blake’s voice, but he was too mesmerized to care.

  Before Blake finished the song, Niall had already cast him as Siegfried. But there was a theatrical protocol to observe, even though it suddenly felt like a waste of time.

  “Thank you, that was wonderful,” he said, doing a poor job of keeping the excitement out of his voice as Blake finished and stood from the piano. “If you’d like to have a seat, we’ll do a few readings.”

  “Down, boy,” John whispered to Niall as he followed Blake with his eyes all the way to the back of the room.

  “Ssh.” Niall swatted John to get him to behave, then cleared his throat and fussed with the papers in front of him to calm his overwhelmed nerves. “Right, let’s start with Mr. Archibald and Mr. Foreman reading scene three.”

  It took every last ounce of patience Niall had to grind his way through the hour it took to give everyone who had auditioned a chance to read scenes. He would have leapt at the chance to get up and read with Blake himself, but after his initial reaction to the man, he didn’t trust himself not to act like a complete idiot around him. Then again, since there was no way on earth that he wasn’t going to cast Blake to play opposite him, he would have to drag himself back out of the clouds to at least be able to talk to him, and soon.

  “Thank you, one and all. I’ve seen everything I need to see,” Niall announced as Blake and Ian finished reading a scene together. “I’ll post the cast list on the community board tomorrow morning.”

  “Brilliant,” Ian said, bringing his script back to the table as the room erupted into noise and scraping chairs as everyone got up to leave. “That will give me plenty of time to share the good news with Annamarie Cannon and her father before supper tomorrow. We’ve all been invited to dine with Lord Masterton at Brickley House, you know.”

  “How very lovely,” Niall said, no idea who Lord Masterton was or what the significance of Brickley House could be. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure where London was or what the significance of Buckingham Palace was as his gaze settled on Blake’s bright smile.

  “You know the Cannons?” Blake asked Ian, his dark brows shooting up.

  “They’ve been staying with us this summer,” Ian answered with an arrogant tilt of his chin.

  “I’m impressed,” Blake said.

  Niall suddenly wanted to murder Ian. No, that wasn’t right. Blake was just being kind. That had to be it. Everything about Blake Williamson radiated kindness and good nature. The way he smiled at Ian was simply polite. Although it could be argued that the way he smiled at Niall was merely polite too. Niall prayed it was more than that. He prayed Blake felt the same instant kinship that he did.

  “I know who you are,” Niall blurted once Ian walked away to fetch his things.

  Blake’s smile widened for a moment. “I’m sure everyone knows who I am, thanks to my father,” he said, his expression settling into a familiar smile.

  “No, I mean I heard you play that concert at Christmas,” Niall went on, losing his battle to remain calm and mature. “Your playing, that is. And your singing. I’m, er, familiar with your work.”

  “You’re just saying that.” Blake tilted his head down slightly, bashfully.

  Niall’s heart came close to exploding in his chest. “No, I mean it. I loved that concert. You’re incredibly talented.”

  “Yes, well, talent in a future duke isn’t considered much of an asset,” Blake said. “I have a feeling Father isn’t going to allow me to indulge in the arts for much longer after I graduate. That’s why I was sincerely hoping to land a part in your play. It would be a last hurrah, so to speak.”

  “You have the part,” Niall blurted before Blake was completely finished. “The part of Siegfried is yours.”

  As soon as the words were out, Niall felt like he might be sick. Or that he’d already been sick all over Blake’s shoes. The effect was the same. At least the rest of the men who had come to audition had already left the room, and John and David were too busy flirting over by the piano to have heard his nonsense.

  Blake blinked in surprise, then burst into a smile. “Are you certain? You want to offer me the part?”

  Niall forced himself to unclench and stop behaving like a moon-eyed schoolgirl. “You were far and away the best singer who came out today,” he said in a more conversational tone. “Trust me. You didn’t see what I had to work with earlier.”

  “I did have the impression that not everyone was up to scratch,” Blake said with a look that made Niall feel as though i
t were the two of them against the world.

  “You’re the only person in the world who I can see playing Siegfried,” Niall said, relaxing even more. Blake was human. He had to remind himself of that. He wasn’t some god sent down from the heavens to bless Earth with his presence. Although Niall wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out he was. “I want you,” he said, then made a wordless sound of embarrassment and went on with, “I mean, I want you for the part. You’re perfect for the part. You’re the only one who could do it any justice.”

  “Then I happily accept.” Blake’s smile was warm and forgiving. He moved past Niall to fetch his satchel and coat. “Who do you have playing Greta?”

  “Um, me?” Niall followed him, trying not to think of himself as a puppy. “I hope you don’t mind,” he rushed to add.

  “Not at all,” Blake said with a gracious laugh, straightening from where he’d picked up his satchel. “I think it would be amazing to play opposite the man who wrote the play.”

  Niall’s mouth hung open, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say to a compliment like that. Best of all, Blake didn’t seem at all uncomfortable with playing opposite another man. Though he still didn’t think that Blake was an invert like him.

  “Rehearsals start tomorrow afternoon,” Niall said at last, no idea what else to say. He was highly aware that John and David had stopped flirting with each other and were now watching him and Blake with a little too much interest.

  “Fantastic,” Blake said, putting on his coat and looping his satchel over his shoulder. He paused, an idea lighting his face. “You know, I have a spare ticket to that concert at McQueen Hall tonight. Do you want to come?”

  Niall nearly choked on his tongue. “That’s the most exclusive concert the university has seen all year,” he said.

  “I know.” Blake’s eyes lit with mischief. “I bought two tickets, but I haven’t been able to find anyone to go with me. Are you interested?”

  Niall was more than interested. His hands and feet were swiftly going numb with excitement, and he was having a hard time catching his breath. “I am definitely interested,” he said.

  “Then come along,” Blake said, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll even buy you supper afterwards.”

  The corners of Niall’s vision went black for a moment. The most handsome and talented man he had ever met was offering to take him to supper and a concert. And no, it didn’t mean anything. How could it, considering they’d only just met? But that didn’t stop Niall from racing back across the room to gather his things with shaking hands and shove them into his own school satchel. Across the room, John winked at him and David nodded in encouragement. Niall’s face heated at his friends’ gestures, but he hardly had any brain left to think about it. All he knew was that he was about to have the night of his life with the man of his dreams.

  Chapter 3

  “I was lucky enough to hear Octavia Righetti when she sang in London two years ago,” Blake said as he and Niall strode across campus on their way to McQueen Hall. The spring evening was balmy and fragrant with roses that were just beginning to bloom in overflowing garden beds between the august buildings. “She has the voice of an angel.”

  “She does?” Niall studied Blake’s rapt expression. Everything about him, from the sensual shape of his mouth to the way the late-afternoon sunlight lit his face with a golden glow had Niall’s heart beating faster.

  “Absolutely.” Blake glanced to Niall with a bright smile that seemed to make his eyes warmer and kinder. There was so much life in those eyes, so much emotion, even though the two of them were merely walking to the concert. Perhaps it was Niall’s imagination, but Blake’s gaze seemed to linger on him for a moment, dropping to his mouth, before he went on with, “She was the talk of the season on her last tour. I’m amazed that the university was able to convince her to perform here.”

  “You’ve been to London?” Niall cursed himself the second the question flopped past his lips. Not only was it a beat behind where their conversation had gone, he was certain it made him look like a rube.

  But Blake laughed, his eyes crinkling and his smile widening. “Of course I’ve been to London,” he said. He swayed closer as they walked and nudged Niall with his shoulder. “Haven’t you?”

  Niall’s entire arm tingled where it’d made contact with Blake’s. He wanted to lean closer to Blake and return the gesture, but knowing him, it would come off as clumsy. “I haven’t,” he confessed. “All of my money has gone toward tuition.” He cursed himself again for bringing up money and making himself look like a pauper. Blake was in line to be a duke. His family probably had more money than the royal family.

  “But it’s where you’re heading after graduation, isn’t it?” Blake asked. “I mean, a playwright as talented as you must be in London. Every theater in Drury Lane will be clamoring to produce your plays.”

  A flush of pleasure filled Niall from head to toe as they turned a corner and started down the promenade that would take them to McQueen Hall. He wanted to slow his steps so that he could make their walk last forever.

  “How would you know if I’m talented?” he asked with a self-deprecating laugh.

  Blake looked genuinely surprised at the question. “I saw the play you wrote last spring.”

  Niall’s brow flew up. “That was just a lark some of the underclassmen put on for fun.”

  “And it was brilliant,” Blake said, his smile genuine as he met Niall’s eyes again. For the second time, his gaze lingered longer than Niall expected. “And I saw you at the cabaret in the fall,” he went on.

  Niall was out of ways to express surprise. His brow was already up, and he was certain his eyes bulged. “My part in the cabaret was miniscule,” he said. And how could he have missed spotting Blake in the audience? The crowd hadn’t been that large.

  “Your part might have been small, but your presence was extremely notable.” Blake’s gaze dropped to Niall’s mouth again before he snapped his head forward as a pair of students passed. He dodged out of their way, which caused him to bump gently into Niall.

  Niall raised his hands reflexively to protect himself and keep Blake from stumbling. The result was that he grabbed Blake’s arm before he could stop himself. He was reluctant to let go as they moved on past the other students, but he knew he had to. The signals he was receiving from Blake were confusing at best. There was most definitely an instant rapport there, but whether it was merely friendly or something more, Niall had absolutely no idea. He let his hand brush against Blake’s as he let go and continued on, though, watching Blake carefully to see how he would react.

  “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to being in your play,” Blake said as they climbed the stairs of McQueen Hall. The door was open, so they walked through into a semi-crowded lobby that echoed with other conversations. In spite of that, the genuine emotion remained in Blake’s expression. “I’ve wanted to try my hand at acting for as long as I can remember, but this is the first time I’ve ever been brave enough to audition.”

  “I’m sure you’re always brave,” Niall said as Blake paused in an empty spot to one side of the door. He wanted to slap a hand over his face. How was it possible that he could write line after line of witty prose, but he couldn’t fasten together two sensible words to have a conversation with a handsome, intelligent, well-mannered, beautiful, warm, gorgeous….

  He lost his train of thought when Blake laughed bashfully and lowered his head. “I’m not brave,” he said, a slight pinch of shame in his eyes. “Not by a longshot.” He lifted his head slightly, appearing to study Niall’s face. Something softened in his eyes. It made Niall’s heart run riot in his chest and his trousers feel embarrassingly tight.

  “Lord Stanley. I thought that was you.” An older gentleman who was dressed far more fashionably than Niall could ever hope to afford to dress strode toward them from across the lobby. He stretched out a hand to Blake as he came near. “Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised to see a yo
ung man like yourself at Miss Righetti’s concert.” He winked as he took Blake’s hand.

  “Lord Fairport.” Blake greeted the man with an open smile, seeming suddenly far more mature than his years. “It’s good to see you again. And I wouldn’t miss a concert like this for the world.”

  “I’m surprised you aren’t accompanying Miss Righetti this evening,” Lord Fairport went on. He glanced to Niall. “This one never misses an opportunity to accompany a beautiful woman singing.” He chuckled and lifted one eyebrow knowingly.

  Niall’s heart sank, even as he drew on every bit of his acting prowess to seem amused by the comment. So Blake fancied women after all.

  “Lord Fairport, allow me to introduce you to my friend, Mr. Niall Cristofori, a playwright with an astounding future in front of him.” Blake stepped closer to Niall, touching a hand lightly to his back as he presented him to Lord Fairport.

  Every bit of Niall’s awareness shifted to that touch, and his heart soared again. He nearly fumbled Lord Fairport’s hand when the man offered it to shake. “Pleased to meet you, my lord.”

  “And you, sir. Any friend of Lord Stanley’s is a friend of mine,” Lord Fairport said, shaking Niall’s hand briefly, then letting it go. “Although Stanley here has so many friends that I’m beginning to lose track.” He laughed.

  Niall’s heart sank all over again. It was as though he were riding in a train that kept speeding up, then abruptly slowing down.

  He was spared having to come up with anything clever to say as the doors at the far end of the lobby were opened and the men and women waiting in the lobby drifted into the auditorium.

  “Forgive me, gents,” Lord Fairport said with a short bow. “The wife gets a bit tetchy when I loiter too long before these things.”