It was so rare to find truly good music at these country parties. Belle had been dying to meet the man in the dark suit at the piano, and after an hour of boring chitchat, she finally broke away from her companions.
“Pardon me,” she said gently, then gasped when the pianist looked up. “My goodness! I came here to give my compliments to the brilliant young man at the piano, only to discover that you’re a woman.”
“Am I?” they gasped in feigned surprise. “Goodness, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“What? Oh, it’s quite alright.” Belle replied. “But why are you dressed that way?”
“Well I always believed the suit made the man,” they answered in a sultry contralto, “but apparently I was wrong.”
Belle’s giggle made all the ringlets of her golden curls bounce merrily. “That’s very droll,” she said.
A grin. “Being droll is my specialty.” A flourish on the keys. “That, and charming young ladies.”
“If I didn’t know any better,” Belle laughed. “I might think you were propositioning me.”
“You might be right,” the answered, “unless you know better.”
Belle’s heartbeat accelerated, suddenly matching the piano’s rhythm. The pianist smiled invitingly. Music filled the night.
* * *