Her Muse, His Grace (Muses Book 4) Page 6

  “Please, send them back and have more tea delivered.”

  The young woman did a quick curtsey and disappeared.

  Two brothers? She was only expecting one, Demetrius, who was going to take her back to Felding’s.

  Demetrius entered a moment later, followed by Benedick, and Mr. East came to his feet.

  She quickly made the introductions, and was surprised to learn that Lady Acker already knew of Benedick and Demetrius.

  “Please, join us,” Lady Acker gestured to two of the empty chairs.

  The gentlemen glanced at Mr. East, shared a look, and then took the offered seats. Really, this was too much. She did not need her brothers becoming suspicious, or suddenly overprotective like Felding.

  “I understand that my sister is your accompanist,” Benedick said after the maid set the tea service in the middle of the table and disappeared.

  “Bianca tells me that you are recently of Barbados.” And so, the inquisition began. One she would squelch quickly. She and Mr. East worked in a professional capacity and there was no cause for her brothers to be concerned.

  “That is correct. I lived there several years but a death in the family required that I return.”

  “How did you come to be a dancing master at the school?” Demetrius asked.

  “I answered an advertisement.” Mr. East took a sip of tea and studied her brothers. There was a tension in the air that she couldn’t quite understand. “Miss Valentine tells me that prior to England you lived in India.”

  Benedick shot her a look. It was the same story they all told when someone asked about the past, or were curious why their last name did not match that of the couple who raised them. Why was her brother concerned all of a sudden of her telling Mr. East what everyone had been told?

  “Yes,” he finally answered and smiled.

  “Benedick is an investigator with the Thames River Police,” Bianca said quickly. Why the tension, as if the men were sizing each other up. What could they possible dislike or have against the other?

  Mr. East cocked his head to the side. “An interesting profession. Do you enjoy it?”

  “Most of the time. What I like the most is putting people who harm others into Newgate.” There was a warning in Benedick’s tone that she didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t as though Mr. East would harm her. He was a dancing master. Handsome and, she suspected, very kind. Had her brother been in his profession so long that he saw danger everywhere?

  “Demetrius is a solicitor,” she added.

  “Ah, another interesting profession.” Mr. East studied him.

  “More boring than anything else,” Demetrius laughed. “But not for long. Soon, I will be able to practice within the criminal courts.”

  It was something he had been working toward since he went away to school.

  “One brother arrests the criminal and the other prosecutes. Between the two of you, do you hope to rid London of all criminal element?”

  “All is not possible,” Benedick said, looking at Mr. East. “But as many as we can.”

  Mr. East straightened at the veiled threat and Bianca came to her feet. “Really, Benedick, you are being quite ridiculous.”

  Her brother chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I am.” He stood. “We should be going. I promised to return to Felding’s before now.”

  He and Demetrius turned to their host. “It was a pleasure, Lady Acker, and thank you for the tea.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Bianca turned to Mr. East. “I shall see you tomorrow.” And hopefully he wouldn’t hold her brothers’ rude behavior against her.

  Chapter 7

  After excusing himself, Mark made his way back to the house on Henrietta Street, retrieved his papers and retired inside, away from the chill in the air. He asked a servant to build a fire and went about reviewing his notes to determine who he wished to know further. Of all the ladies and misses he had met, Miss Valentine intrigued him the most, but she was not of society as he had hoped from her connection to Felding. As one brother was an investigator and the other a solicitor, the only connection the family had to anyone in society was through their brother-in-law.

  Being a missionary’s daughter and niece of a vicar was respectable, but she was not of the ton, which he found favorable as she wasn’t likely to be jaded like so many others. It was also unfortunate, however as he was expected to marry within the peerage.

  Of course, it was far too soon to be making any permanent decisions, other than those who would not suit. He hadn’t even spent enough time with any other candidate to know if he was attracted to them as much as he was Miss Valentine, though at first encounters, not one of the other ladies or misses intrigued him.

  It was going to be a long, and probably excruciating, month as he danced with ladies and narrowed the list. But, at least Miss Valentine would be with him each day, sitting at the piano where he could watch her when no one else was looking.

  He glanced down at the stack of documents on the table, overwhelmed by the sheer number, but he was determined to narrow down his list of students and one of them would be the next Duchess of Roxburg.

  A sick knot tightened in his belly. This should have never come to be. When he was born, he was so removed from the title that it was never a consideration for him or his father, the youngest of four sons. By the time Mark had gone off to Cambridge, his oldest uncle had died without an heir, the second son had married and had a son, and the third son and Mark’s father had also passed. Still, Mark never expected something to happen to his uncle and cousin. It was unbelievable that the five people standing between him and the title would all die before his thirtieth year.

  “I see you’ve gotten quite comfortable in Lady Acker’s home.”

  Mark glanced up to find Thorn leaning against the door jamb. “What are you doing here? And how did you know how to find me?”

  “I’m a friend of the family.” He pulled himself upright and sauntered into the room. “I heard Lady Acker mention to one of her sisters that you were staying here, Mr. East. It didn’t take much imagination to realize the new dancing master, Mr. East, who had taken up residence here was none other than my friend in disguise.” Thorn laughed. “And, you did ask me about the school.”

  As long as only Thorn put the two together it didn’t matter. Besides, other than Samuel, Thorn was the only other person who knew he’d returned. Lady Acker never came right out and asked, but by their conversation, she knew exactly who he was and he prayed she continued to keep his secret.

  “And you thought to barge in on me. Aren’t servants supposed to answer the door and give me an option of being at home?” Mark came to his feet and crossed the room to the sideboard, which he had filled with his own liquor choices. One being rum. “Or, has England changed so much in my absence that people now come and go from other people’s homes as they please?”

  Thorn laughed and settled into the chair opposite of where Mark had been sitting. “The servants know me here.”

  “You probably seduced yourself around a young maid, no doubt.”

  “I am a happily married gentleman. The only seduction I now enjoy is that with my wife.”

  Thorn married! It would take time to get used to that idea.

  “Why aren’t you home with your wife?”

  He laughed. “She’s in the middle of a painting and insisted I was bothering her.” His eyes twinkled with delight.

  “Was she using blue paint?” Mark inquired.

  Thorn’s eyebrows drew together.

  “There are three blue marks at the side of your neck that resemble fingers.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I assure you, I thought I had removed all the paint from my person before I left the house.”

  Given Thorn’s reputation, Mark didn’t want to think about where he had removed paint from. “It’s a rather bold color for a watercolor.”

  Thorn leaned forward. “My wife does not dabble in watercolors like many young ladies. She
is an artist.”

  Mark poured two glasses of rum and took them back to the sitting area, handing one to Thorn. He really didn’t mind that his friend was here.

  Thorn picked up the papers. “What are these?”

  “The ladies who wish to take lessons.”

  Thorn began thumbing through them. “Why a mark beside Lady Jillian. Have you already decided on her?”

  Mark snorted. “Decided against.” He leaned back and sipped his rum. It made a pleasant burn down his throat.

  “It doesn’t matter who her father is?”

  “No.” Mark grimaced. “Simply, she is not for me.”

  Thorn continued to look through the documents before setting them aside. “You’ve marked none of the others.”

  “I was about to, but you interrupted me.” He looked up at Thorn as a thought occurred to him. “You know the ton and ladies well. Perhaps you could share your knowledge with me to help narrow the list?”

  * * *

  “You wish to engage the dancing master?” Felding was looking between Penelope and Patience before he looked at Bianca. “This is your doing?”

  “I simply took a position as an accompanist, Lord Felding. It’s your sisters who came to the school.” At your direction.

  “You’ve both already received lessons, you know how to dance. I’ve seen you,’’ he bit out.

  “Yes, well, one does become rusty from rusticating all winter.” Patience smiled innocently.

  Rosalind coughed into her napkin and Bianca had to look away or she’d laugh.

  “Perhaps I should meet this Mr. East.” Noah leaned back and glanced around the table.

  “That is ridiculous, Noah,” Penelope argued. “It is a bit unconventional that the dancing master is teaching at the school and not going to homes, but that is all. When I was there, ladies were lining up practically out the door to sign up. I daresay, he might be the only one giving lessons in London.”

  “I’m sure he could not take on half the students if he were to go from home to home and then need to find an accompanist in each location. I can understand where this is more advantageous,” Patience pondered out loud.

  “Besides, you don’t wish to be there when we are, Noah,” Penelope said.

  He narrowed his eyes on his sister. “And, why would that be?”

  “Mr. East has so many students that he must schedule five or six at a time. Lady Jillian will be joining us. Not by our invitation, of course. It is simply how matters worked themselves out.”

  He fairly glowered at the name and Rosalind bit her bottom lip, probably to keep from smiling at her husband’s discomfort.

  “Thank you for introducing me to Lady Chester,” Isabella said suddenly.

  “Who is Lady Chester?” Bianca asked. She’d been so busy either working as an accompanist or composing, she’d barely spoken to her sisters.

  “Yes, well, you wanted to know if there were any homes for soldiers in London and that was the only one I knew of,” Noah said. “I hope you found it to your satisfaction.”

  Isabella grinned. “Beyond anything I’d hoped.”

  Noah frowned. “As I recall, it was a modest house where only about a dozen soldiers live.”

  “It is so much more.”

  “How so?” Bianca asked with interest. Isabella was a nurse, or considered herself one and after traveling to the Continent with their brother, Orlando, a physician. She’d thought her role would be to roll bandages and read to the sick and injured soldiers, but she learned much more following the drum. Since her return eight months ago, she’d become irritated with the idleness of living in the country and wished to take care of people, nurse them, and there was very little call for that in Hampshire.

  “The building is much larger and considered a retiring home for injured soldiers to live and receive medical care. It’s for those who have nowhere else to go. Many of them having survived Waterloo, but with injuries that keep them from being employable.”

  “I wasn’t aware,” Noah mumbled.

  “Kirkland House, and they needed nurses.” Isabella grinned.

  “Not you too?” Rosalind groaned. “I brought my sisters to London so that they could enjoy the Season. Not find positions of employment.”

  “We’ve told you that we don’t wish to be a part of Society,” Bianca pointed out. “We don’t belong.”

  Rosalind turned to their youngest sister. “Please tell me you have not gone out and secured a position somewhere as well.”

  Perdita looked down at her plate, her cheeks blushing. “The Foundling Hospital has need of me.” She glanced at Noah. “Your name and relation allowed me to gain this position. Thank you.” Perdita looked back at Rosalind. “There are so many orphans without homes. It nearly breaks my heart. Had it not been for Uncle Osborn and Aunt Mary, we could have been raised in such a place so I must do my part in helping others.”

  Noah chuckled. “Don’t worry, dear.” He squeezed Rosalind’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll manage to get them to a few balls. I have faith in you.”

  Bianca did feel some pity of Rosalind, but her sister needed to understand that just because Felding was unconcerned with their past, others would not be as forgiving. And she was happy they’d found positions. Isabella was happiest most when nursing and Perdita was unable to resist any child she met. As for Bianca, she was able to play and the very reason she could not remain at the table any longer, now that she’d finished her supper. Not when music had been playing in her head all afternoon and evening. She needed to get it on paper, or at least play the keys to see if it sounded as good coming from the piano as it did in her own mind. She stood. “Please excuse me.”

  Once she gained the music room, Bianca closed the door behind her, drew out sheets of blank paper, her pencil and settled on the bench. Closing her eyes, she let her fingers rest on the keys, let the song begin in her mind and began to play.

  It did sound as beautiful as she imagined and she couldn’t wait to write the notes on the paper. This time she could even hear the stringed instruments accompanying the piece. That had never happened before. Usually it was simply the piano, but an orchestra was playing in her mind, filling her with joy, making her pulse increase and her heart pound.

  She’d never written music for any other instrument, but she needed to add the viola, violin, cello and bass, if she could figure out how. Was the music different for those instruments? If so, she would need to learn them. She must.

  Bianca’s fingers trailed, ending the song, she sighed and opened her eyes.

  Around the piano stood Rosalind, Isabella and Perdita. She blinked at them. When did they come in here?

  Tears were in Rosalind’s eyes and she sniffed as she retrieved her handkerchief.

  Alarm shot through Bianca. “Has something happened?”

  “Yes, it has.” Rosalind smiled.

  “What?” Why was her sister reacting so oddly?

  “You haven’t played like that since…since Bertram.”

  Chapter 8

  The six ladies scheduled for this session were his easiest and most difficult. Three may never learn to dance and three didn’t need to be there. And the three who couldn’t dance, were equally the most unpleasant debutantes Mark had ever encountered. Worse than anything Lady Jillian had ever said.

  “Really, Miss Valentine, must you play at that tempo?” Lady Henrietta complained when she nearly stepped on Mark’s toes for the fifth time.

  “It is so difficult to find an accomplished accompanist,” Lady June agreed.

  Beside her, Lady Katherine nodded her head vigorously, inky black curls bouncing against her shoulders. “Mother claims that it is near impossible to find good servants any longer.”

  Behind them stood Ladies Penelope and Patience. The sisters looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

  Bianca’s fingers faltered for a moment on the keys, striking incorrect notes, which was most unusual for her.

  “Do pay attention Miss Valentine,” s
napped Lady Henrietta.

  “I apologize,” Bianca whispered. She kept her head down and continued playing.

  “Why don’t you rest, Lady Henrietta?” Mark let go of the young woman. “Lady June.” Mark held out his hand.

  With a sniff, Lady June met him in the middle of the floor and Bianca began to play again.

  “Please, Miss Valentine, that is much too fast.”

  Mark held his tongue, well aware that these three young ladies were of the peerage. He didn’t like the way they spoke to Bianca and wished to dismiss them immediately, but Mr. East was beneath them as well. Hired to serve a purpose, not much different than a servant, and as such, must remember his place. He couldn’t risk the students complaining to their fathers, gentlemen he’d known before he sailed to Barbados for fear they would pay a visit if the daughters complained about him. That would never do.

  Lady June nearly stumbled when Mark executed a turn, which had nothing to do with Bianca’s playing. The lady simply could not dance and Mark doubted she ever would.

  “Remember, Lady June, if you note the pressure of my hand at your waist and movement of my feet you will realize a turn is about to take place.”

  “How can I when this music is all wrong?”

  Lady Jillian stepped forward, her jaw tight. “The music Miss Valentine is playing is at the perfect tempo and a waltz.”

  “Why are you even here, Lady Jillian?” Lady Katherine demanded. “This is your third season. Surely you’ve engaged a dancing master previously.”

  “She’s yet to land a husband,” Lady Henrietta laughed. “Perhaps she needs to be here more than we do.”

  Mark slowed the dance, waiting to see if the ladies were going to start pulling each other’s hair. It would certainly make these lessons more interesting.

  “You think it is so easy to secure a match?” Lady Jillian asked with humor.