Sonata for a Scoundrel Read Online Free PDF Page B

throat and met Dare’s eyes.
    “I must confess. I recently underwent a… difficult period. Clara helped immensely. I am sure Papa wishes her to come along to help see to my well-being.”
    His words rang true, and there was a tightness about his eyes that indicated the composer was not yet fully recovered. It would explain the family’s reluctance.
    “I’ll see that you are treated well, Mr. Becker,” Dare said. “I understand the volatility of the artistic temperament, and I assure you, your sister’s presence is unneeded.”
    “I must insist.” Nicholas Becker’s hand stilled, then tightened over the back of the chair. “You will take both of us. Or neither of us.”
    Dare turned to Miss Becker. There must have been something fierce in his expression, for she took a step back, her eyes wide.
    “What do you say?” he demanded. “Do you also insist on coming along?”
    There was a flash of something—anger?—in her expression, quickly dampened.
    “I stand with my family,” she said.
    Peter set a calming hand on his arm. “Dare, they have laid out their terms. Do you agree?”
    Anger pumped through his blood at the damned stubbornness of the Becker family. Why would they not behave sensibly? Dare blew a breath out his nostrils and forced himself to think, though there was only one answer.
    He scowled at Nicholas Becker.
    “Your sister’s expenses will come out of your weekly stipend,” Dare said. “I am paying you well enough. I refuse to be burdened with her needs as well.”
    The composer swallowed, but he nodded.
    “It will do,” their father said.
    “Peter, change the agreements,” Dare said.
    This was a displeasing outcome… and yet, he had achieved his goal. Nicholas Becker would be composing for him, touring with him, despite the compromise of dragging the sister along.
    Dare turned to the composer. “Peter will take your signature and give you a week’s advance. We leave for Brighton in two days. I’ll send the coach to collect you. Both of you.” His gaze went to where Clara Becker stood, pale hands smoothing her skirts.
    Shaking his head, he stalked to the door. He could not stand another instant in this cold, shabby house, dealing with the unmanageable composer and his family. Once they were on tour, Dare’s word was law. No matter what Nicholas Becker and his sister might want.
     
    ***
     
    Clara turned to her father the moment the door closed behind their extraordinary guest. Her heart pounded with excitement even as her stomach clenched at the thought of everything that could go wrong.
    “Papa! How could you agree to send us with him? It’s impossible. What if Nicholas—”
    “Your brother is recovered,” Papa said, his tone harboring no room for argument. “There is no choice, Clara. You know this. We cannot afford to refuse. The two of you either go with the maestro, or we will be on the streets within the month.”
    She folded her arms around herself, palms flat against her ribs. Papa was right. They had sold everything but the piano, and it was still not enough. Nicholas’s students had forsaken him during his dark time. The pittance the publisher paid for her works would not keep them housed and fed.
    “It is providence,” Papa said. “When fate opens the door, one must be brave enough to walk through.”
    Clara closed her eyes for a brief moment. The tour offered possibilities she could not have dreamed, along with the potential for even greater disaster.
    “It’s my fault,” Nicholas said, his expression pinched with misery. “If I had been able to keep teaching, we wouldn’t be in such straits.”
    Clara slipped her arm around his shoulders. “It’s not your fault. It was difficult even before, remember?”
    Their mother’s long illness had begun the family’s slide into hardship; the ineffectual doctors who still had to be paid, the various medicines that had cost all their savings, but in the end had done little except ease her pain.
    Nicholas’s