Donna Hatch is the author of the best-selling “Rogue Hearts Series,” and a winner of writing awards such as The Golden Quill and the International Digital Award. A hopeless romantic and adventurer at heart, she discovered her writing passion at the tender age of 8 and has been listening to those voices ever since. She has become a sought-after workshop presenter, and also juggles freelance editing, multiple volunteer positions, and most of all, her six children (seven, counting her husband). A native of Arizona who recently transplanted to the Pacific Northwest, she and her husband of over twenty years are living proof that there really is a happily ever after.
Fleeing an unwanted engagement, a young harpist follows her music passion to London. Becoming entangled with a handsome violinist who seems too aristocratic for a working-class musician may be more problematic than dodging her erstwhile fiancé, sleeping in the streets, or staying alive when a madman targets her for murder.
Kit joined the waif claiming to be a harpist in the back of the orchestra pit. After rosining his bow and tuning his violin to her harp, he waited for her to warm up with a series of scales and arpeggios. A few moments later, he pointed to a spot in her music. “Alex wants to hear you play our duet in the second act.”
She fixed large eyes on him. “Our duet?”
“It’s for harp and violin, and I’m the principal violinist,” he explained.
She nodded, swallowed, and took a deep breath. “Whenever you are ready, sir.”
She wiped her hands on her skirts and moved the pedals to put the harp into the correct key. The girl placed her fingers on the strings. And played.
Kit was so thunderstruck by the skill and beauty issuing forth from the instrument that he barely remembered to come in at the right time. Quickly, he raised his violin to his chin, lifted his bow, and closed his eyes. They played together. All the world—all noise, other performers, the audience entering—all else faded away. Kit and his violin, and the girl with her harp, were the only creations in the universe. Together, they produced magic. His soul sang as loudly as his violin. As the last notes of their duet faded away, Kit let out his breath and swallowed the knot in his throat.
Such beauty and passion. This little waif was a true musician. In all his five and twenty years, he had never heard her equal.
Kit lowered his violin and clutched his bow. Meeting her gaze, he smiled. “Brava.”