Her Muse, His Grace (Muses Book 4) Read online

  “Well, that’s interesting?” Felding said before taking a sip of his tea.

  “What?” Rosalind asked her husband with interest.

  “A school chum, who I haven’t seen in years, has inherited.” Felding paused and looked up. “I had forgotten that his uncle died last summer and his cousin a few months ago. Mark wasn’t ever to have gained the title.”

  “I thought it was the women who were interested in the gossip?” Rosalind teased.

  Felding lowered the newssheet just enough to see his eyes, which he narrowed on his wife.

  “Which title would that be?” Rosalind asked.

  “The Duke of Roxburg.”

  Bianca choked on her tea. Felding had a friend that was a duke and just called him by his first name. Her brother-in-law had loftier connections than she ever imagined. And, all the more reason she must find a position. Felding certainly would never consider introducing her to a duke, would he? That would be beyond the pale.

  Instead of saying anything, however, Bianca picked up one of the newssheets. She skipped over fashion and other titillating tales and went right to the advertisements. She was beginning to become discouraged until she read the last newssheet and her heart began to pound when she found a position that was perfect for her.

  Chapter 2

  Mark stepped inside the Mirabelle School of Dance and stopped. Someone was playing a piano somewhere down the corridor. The music flowed over him, his heartbeat calmed and all tension left his body. He didn’t recognize the tune or the song, but he had been away from London for quite some time. The piece was beautiful, moving and he didn’t want it to stop.

  On their own accord, his feet lead him toward the music and he stopped at a doorway. The overly large room was empty but for a piano and two women. The wooden floors gleamed as if recently polished and one wall was covered in mirrors with a ballet barre mounted at about the height of his hips. At the piano, creating the most enchanting music he’d ever heard, was a young woman with auburn hair pinned behind her head, but enough had escaped that a haphazard row of tight curls caressed the back of her neck. Long fingers danced along the black and white keys and he was mesmerized.

  “Might I help you?”

  He was jerked out of his admiration by the other woman in the room. One he had practically forgotten about. She also had red hair. Were the two sisters?

  “I would like to speak with Lady Acker.”

  “I am Lady Acker.” She came forward, practically gliding across the polished floorboards.

  “I am here to inquire about your advertisement for a dancing master.”

  The young woman stopped playing and turned. He missed the music already. Her pewter eyes met his, and for a moment, Mark forgot to breathe.

  “Are you qualified?” Lady Acker asked. “And, are you familiar with the popular dances?”

  If he were to play a dancing master, he should act like one and such a questions would be insulting. “Of course!” Mark assumed they were the normal country dances he learned long ago. And, just because he lived on an island in the Caribbean, that didn’t mean he did not attend assemblies and balls. He just hoped there hadn’t been a new dance invented while he’d lived away from England that he was unaware of.

  “Have you taught before?”

  “Yes.” He had taught his younger sisters, before they left the island to return to London and placed on the marriage mart. Both should be returning to London soon and if necessary, he would prevail upon them for assistance.

  “Where?”

  Blast. That question hadn’t occurred to him. “I’ve recently returned to the country from Barbados. I taught many young ladies the art of dancing while there.” Many was a stretch when there were only two students, but hopefully she would not question him further.

  Her eyebrows draw together as her mouth purses. “Barbados. Why does that seem similar to me?” Lady Acker glanced over to the young woman at the pianoforte. She simply shook her head. “Oh, I remember,” Lady Acker said after a moment. “I read that the new Duke of Roxburg lives in Barbados. There is a great deal of speculation on when he will return. Do you know His Grace? I can’t imagine Barbados is terribly large.”

  This was not the type of inquiry he needed. “I know of His Grace.”

  “It matters not.” Lady Acker dismissed with a smile. “This is about you applying for the position.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you bring references?” She held out her hand.

  “I fear, I did not.” Would he have to write his sisters? Would they even go along with his plan? Blast, they could make matters damned difficult for him just for the pleasure of doing so.

  Lady Acker pursed her lips again and studied him. “Then how am I to know if you are qualified?”

  “You might dance with me?” It was all he could think of. That, or rush home and beg his sisters for help. He could also simply create fictitious reference letters. But what if Lady Acker decided to check those too?

  “That should serve well enough.” Lady Acker walked to the center of the large room. “Miss Valentine, would you please play a waltz?”

  Valentine! So the woman at the piano’s last name is Valentine, and a miss. Before he left here, Mark fully intended to know her first name as well.

  “Of course, Lady Acker.”

  Her voice was as melodic as her playing. But, he couldn’t think about Miss Valentine now. He had to convince Lady Acker he was a dancing master.

  Mark bowed to Lady Acker and she curtseyed as Miss Valentine struck the first note. Soon, he was whirling Lady Acker from one end of the room to the other, the music flowing over him as it had when he first stepped into the building. It fed something in him and calmed him at the same time. Though it was a waltz, it was not a song he had heard before. Haunting and lovely.

  As the last chords played, they ended the dance with another bow and curtsey. He glanced up to find a dozen or so young girls standing and watching. He’d been lost in a world of notes and emotions, and couldn’t recall any of the steps he had maneuvered. At least he hadn’t stepped on Lady Acker’s toes.

  Had Miss Valentine bewitched him with her music?

  “Please begin warming up,” Lady Acker called to girls before she turned back to him. “If we might have a word?”

  “Of course.” He followed Lady Acker, toward the entrance and then she turned around. “Please, join me, Miss Valentine.”

  He waited until Miss Valentine came from the room and then followed the women down the corridor until Lady Acker stopped at a door. “Miss Valentine, please have a seat in front of my desk.” She turned back to Mark. “I’ll be with you shortly.” And she gestured to a chair outside the door.

  He was being dismissed?

  Well, not exactly. He was being told to cool his heels and wait his turn and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Even before he came to the title, people always treated with him difference because he was the grandson of a duke, and there was always a slight chance the title might be his one day. Mark never thought he’d inherit. It was to be his uncle, then his cousin and if his cousin would have done his duty, then his son. Mark was supposed to have remained in Barbados, living peacefully on his plantation, growing sugar and enjoying the ocean breezes.

  Still, nobody ever suggested he sit in a chair and wait before. This masquerade was becoming more liberating each day.

  * * *

  Bianca clasped her hands together, hoping Lady Acker did not notice how much they trembled. The advertisement was for an accompanist at the school. She could play for hours and hoped she hadn’t just ruined her chances. Why had she played that waltz?

  “You play very well,” Lady Acker said as she took her seat behind the desk.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve never heard that waltz before. Is it new?”

  Bianca’s face was heating. Should she just thank Lady Acker for her time and leave quickly or explain. “Yes.”

  “It was very lovely, moving.”


  Bianca couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips. “Thank you.”

  “Who wrote it? I thought I was familiar with most music.”

  Her face heated further. “I did.”

  Now, she was going to be turned out. She composed that waltz two years ago and hadn’t played it for anyone other than her family.

  “Then why are you here?” Lady Acker demanded.

  Bianca blinked up at her. “I had hoped to apply for the position of accompanist.”

  “Miss Valentine, your talents are wasted here. You should be playing for the theatre or giving concerts. Have you composed other works?”

  She wasn’t being sent away?

  Of course, Lady Acker was a ballerina and owned her own dance school. Bianca shouldn’t be surprised Lady Acker would make such a suggestion. While a number of women had composed music, she was not sure hers was good enough to gain notice. Perhaps it was something she would attempt in the future, but she wasn’t brave enough to ever hope to support herself by her music. Besides, her family might not feel it proper. “I would never presume so much. If I were a man, perhaps I would be more daring.”

  Lady Acker shook her head and their eyes met. She understood and Bianca needn’t say anything further.

  “This is a school of ballet,” Lady Acker began. “The morning students are beginners and I don’t require music. The more advanced students do. Here is our schedule. I’ve marked the days and times I would need someone to play.

  Bianca glanced at the dates and times. “You would need me from one to four, Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”

  “Yes, if that is agreeable.”

  Agreeable? Her pulse increased “You wish to hire me?”

  Lady Acker laughed. “Of course. I assume you read music and I’ll provide you with copies so you can learn it before the next lesson.”

  It was so much more than she hoped. She’d only be able to work three afternoons a week instead of a full week. But, it was a start. “Thank you.”

  “Can you begin on Monday?”

  “Yes!” This would give her time to let her sister get used to the idea.

  Lady Acker stood and Bianca quickly came to her feet. “Thank you, again. I look forward to playing for you.”

  “Don’t be so quick to thank me. The work can be tedious with constant starting and stopping.”

  Bianca didn’t care. It was a position and she’d be able to play that beautiful piano.

  Lady Acker led her to the door and opened it, both of them stepping out in to the entry. The gentleman who had come in during her interview came to his feet. He was the reason she played the waltz. Never had she encountered such a handsome gentleman with such black hair and intense blue eyes, with skin such a golden brown, which was probably from living in Barbados. And, he moved with such elegance and grace just walking that she needed to see him dance to her music.

  She knew nothing about him. Not even a name was mentioned, but he was the reason she broke from the well-known waltzes and played her own creation.

  He felt the music, or she assumed he did by the way he moved. That alone gave her pleasure.

  Chapter 3

  Mark stood as soon as the door opened. Lady Acker was smiling and the beautiful auburn-haired woman was blushing. He’d love to ask her why, but he didn’t even know her.

  “I’ll see you on Monday, Miss Valentine,” Lady Acker said as the young woman left, then she turned to him. “I don’t believe you gave me your name.”

  “Ma…” He couldn’t give her his real name. That would ruin everything.

  Lady Acker lifted an eyebrow, as if waiting.

  “Manfred East.” Bloody hell. Manfred?

  “Please, join me in my office.”

  He followed Lady Acker inside and waited for her to sit before he settled into the chair across from the desk. It was rather intimidating being on this side instead of the other. Was this how his servants had felt, or his solicitor when delivering news?

  “Why did you apply for this position?”

  He couldn’t tell her the truth. “I’ve recently arrived, need a position, and saw your advertisement.”

  “What do you know of Mirabelle School of Dance?”

  That was easier to answer since Thorn had filled him in. “It is a school for ballet, that will begin teaching debutantes the popular dances to prepare for the entrance into society.”

  Lady Acker blew out a breath and frowned. Had he answered incorrectly? What if Thorn had his facts wrong? He claimed to know the family well.

  “Unfortunately, that is true.”

  “You don’t wish to train debutantes?” Then why advertise for a dance master?

  “This is a school for ballet. But, mothers believe that since this is a school of dance, then their daughters would receive better instructions in the art of waltzing and country.”

  “Before I departed England, dancing masters were retained in preparation for a debutante’s first season and came to her home. I had thought perhaps in my absence that practice had changed.” When he had questioned Thorn, the man simply shrugged. Thorn didn’t have any younger sisters and had never needed a dancing master himself, and had no idea how young ladies went about learning to dance.

  “The practice has not changed. Several families with young ladies in their households do just that and there are probably a dozen dancing masters going about, teaching in the traditional manner.”

  “You do not wish to have students instructed in the dances they would need for a season?” Lady Acker behaved as if she didn’t want this at all. If so, why advertise.

  “Frankly, the only students I want crossing my threshold are those interested in ballet and only ballet.”

  Mark straightened. Had she changed her mind? Would he need to find another manner to meet the young ladies without them knowing his true identity?

  “I’m tired of trying to explain the difference between learning the art of ballet and what they wish their daughters to know.”

  She shuffled the papers on her desk. Color was high in her cheeks and there was a very determined set to her jaw. Lady Acker was not pleased.

  “Those mothers cannot begin to understand the difference between a country dance and the grace and elegance needed for ballet. The two cannot even compare.” Lady Acker taped the sheets of foolscap to straighten with a bit more force than necessary. “To them, a teacher can apparently teach any dance.” She pursed her mouth as if she’d just eating something unappetizing. “Instead of fighting the misconception as I did last year, I’ve decided to hire a dancing master and be done with it.”

  “I see.” Or, at least he thought he understood.

  “I didn’t even know how to waltz until my husband taught me.” She shook her head as a blush spread across her cheeks. “I actually heard a few women speaking behind their fans that the key to their daughters gaining the attention of any gentlemen in good standing must be in the dance.” She blew out a breath. “As I captured Acker, then their daughters must train with me.”

  Apparently, little had changed since he was last in London. Mothers would do just about anything to see that their daughters married a title. The higher the better. And, you didn’t get much higher than Mark’s unless you wished for a prince.

  He relaxed back in his chair and considered what Lady Acker had said. There was much you could learn from dancing with a woman. It had been his experience that those who were a good match on the dance floor usually turned out to be an excellent match in the bedchamber as well. Not that he would say as much to Lady Acker, but he would keep it in mind during his lessons. It’s bad enough he had to marry at all, but he’d be damned if he married a passionless woman. A woman who waltzed poorly would make a poor lover.

  “You are the first to apply for the position,” she said after studying him for a moment.

  Hope surged in him. He didn’t care if he gained the position by default, as long as it was his in the end.

  “You do not have references,
though you dance well enough.”

  Well enough? Should he be insulted?

  “The position is yours, Mr. East, if you wish. The Season will officially begin in six weeks and I wish to put this behind me.”

  “Thank you.” This was easier than he planned. Now he just needed to locate a set of rooms to rent, far away from Society, but close enough to the school, and he could set his plan in motion. Surely there was a place to live in Covent Gardens.

  “I’m not exactly hiring you as much as I’m giving you a place to conduct your lessons.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I will give you a schedule of when the room is available for your lessons. For each student, you will pay me a percentage, and the rest is yours. I don’t really want to be operating a school for debutants.”

  It wasn’t as though he needed the money. He’d pay Lady Acker all of his earnings, but that would raise too much suspicion. He was supposed to be in need of work. “And will the young woman who just left here by my accompanist?”

  Lady Acker raised her eyebrow. “Miss Valentine works for me, three afternoons a week. If you wish for her to play for you, you will need to make those arrangements.”

  Having Miss Valentine in the same room, playing, while he tried to decide on a wife out of the students could prove to be distraction. Yet, he knew of no other accompanists and he was far from done hearing her play. “Very well. Might I know her direction?”

  “She is residing with Lord Felding, her brother-in-law.”