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.It was exultant, and primal, and she caught her breath as he and Nicholas came careening into the very last chord.“Bravo!” She was on her feet in an instant, applauding so fiercely her wrists ached from it.She was not sorry she had written so difficult a piece; not when it spurred the performers to such heights.Henri and their hosts stood as well, and between the four of them they made a satisfying enough noise.The innkeeper even essayed a rough “ho!” of approval, while his wife dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her apron between bouts of applause.Darien, a wide grin on his face, clapped Nicholas on the shoulder.“Well done! Il Diavolo shall be vanquished yet.”“Yes.” Nicholas actually returned the maestro’s smile.“Though you nearly left me behind in the scherzo section.I hadn’t anticipated such… velocity.”“Very good,” Henri said, nodding.“Very good indeed.This calls for something celebratory, and I have just the thing.” He turned to the innkeeper.“Sir, if you would fetch some small glasses.I don’t suppose you keep any snifters about?”The innkeeper shook his head, and Darien raised his brows.“You are breaking out La Compte?” he asked.“Henri, we are honored.”The valet gave a sniff.“This is an occasion that warrants it.I shall return in a moment.” He followed the innkeeper out of the room.“Isn’t that a rather expensive cognac?” Nicholas turned to Darien.“You travel with your own supply?”“No, it is Henri’s.Saved for only special circumstances.It’s a rare privilege that he’s bringing it out now.” Darien tucked his violin away.“But then, abandoning all humbleness, I do think we deserve it.”Nicholas gave a muffled snort of laughter.“You are not known for your humility, sir.”A barb, though leavened with humor.Clara shot her brother a glance.She had heard enough from Nicholas these past weeks about Darien Reynard’s failings.Henri hastened back into the parlor, a greenish-black bottle cradled in his arms.“The greatest violinist in all Europe should not be humble,” he declared, clearly having caught Nicholas’s comment.“Indeed, false modesty sits well on no one.But now, let us have a toast.”The innkeeper set out six glasses, and Henri deftly poured two inches of cognac into each.Not a single drop was lost, and the valet re-corked his bottle with a look of satisfaction.“To greatness.” Henri raised his glass.Clara followed the gesture with the others, then lifted the glass to her mouth.The intense fumes served as a warning, and she took a careful swallow, the alcohol tingling against her lips with a pleasant heat.“Ah.” Darien held his cognac to the light.“This never ceases to surprise me.Thank you, Henri.”“It is very good,” Nicholas said.“I haven’t much of a taste for cognac, but still…”Henri looked pleased, though his nostrils flared for a moment.“This is not any cognac, you understand, but a bottle of ’11, recognized by connoisseurs to be the very finest vintage.”“Aye.” The innkeeper nodded.“I had a bottle of ’08 once, but ’twas not nearly so smooth.”“Did you?” Henri turned to the man, a light of appreciation in his eyes, and they wandered over to the bar to discuss obscure vineyards.The wife shook her head.“Ah, and now they’ll go on like that for hours, if I know my man.But thank you, all.’Twas a fine evening, indeed.I’ll not soon forget it.”“It truly was our pleasure,” Darien said, and Clara heard the sincerity in his tone.“Indeed.” Nicholas nodded.Clara tried not to comment on his agreement.Perhaps the two men could finally reconcile during this last week of the tour.A pity it could not have happened earlier.She took another sip of cognac, the liquid burning a spicy trail down her throat.She turned to her brother just as he took a step forward, and collided with his arm.“Blast.” Nicholas glanced at his waistcoat, now splashed with the remainder of his cognac.“Oh dear.I am sorry,” she said.“Don’t let Henri see you waste his liqueur so carelessly.” There was a note of laughter in Darien’s voice.“Perhaps I can wring it out, back into the glass.” Her brother’s tone was dry.“Though I doubt it would improve the flavor.If you will excuse me.”The innkeeper’s wife took his empty glass.“I’ll just wash this out, then.A pity, it is.”Clara couldn’t decide if she meant the damage to Nicholas’s clothing, or the loss of fine cognac.“Miss Becker, a moment
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