Her Muse, His Grace (Muses Book 4) Page 9

  Yes, she was falling in love, of that she couldn’t deny. Bertram was right in that she shouldn’t lie to herself. But, just because she acknowledged these emotions did not mean she would ever let anyone else know they existed. Especially Mr. East.

  With those thoughts, Bianca checked the clock and then pulled herself from the bed. She did not have time to lie there and wish for things that could never be when she was to meet Mr. East in an hour.

  Chapter 12

  Mark had barely slept the night before. He tossed and turned as Bianca’s music played over in his head, but instead of playing, she was dancing in his dreams. Her body moving with the seduction of the notes. He woke often, his body hard with need, wishing she were in his bed so he could explore her body, feel her legs and arms around him, her breath on this cheek, her lips against him. He wanted her, and not just because of how her music provoked so many emotions. She was beautiful, talented, and desirable. Each time they were together, all he could think about was kissing her. She belonged with him and last night, he dreamt of her dancing in the white sand along the beach, the waves crashing and tide coming in, covering her delicate feet and then retreating. Her smile was brilliant as the curls of her hair danced on the wind.

  He splashed cold water on his face. It was more than kisses, but loving her as well. With so much passion in her heart, she would be a passionate lover. One he wanted to take to bed and experience. He also didn’t fool himself into thinking once would be enough. And if he were to be truly honest with himself, she was in his heart.

  He could continue teaching ladies the next few weeks, but his bride wasn’t among them. His future wife was at the piano and she’s the one he wanted. And it wasn’t just in his bed, but in his home, where they could talk, laugh and create music. The room at the back of the plantation would make an excellent music room. While he managed the sugar fields, she could compose and then play her music for him at night, before they retired. Or, they could play together. She would write the music for the piano and he’d assist with the violin. Perhaps they’d both learn other instruments and when children were born, they’d teach them how to play and to love music.

  Bianca longed to travel, she’d said as much, but would she wish to live so far away from her family half of the year?

  The thought gave him pause. She was close to her siblings and might not be willing to leave them.

  He shook his head. It wasn’t as if they’d live in Barbados year round, even if he’d like to. His position required that he be in London often, which would require him traveling here each spring and staying through summer, leaving early enough so as not to be caught in the late summer and early fall storms that plagued the Caribbean and Atlantic oceans.

  Still, there was the concern that she was the daughter of a missionary and he was a duke. Wasn’t he required to marry someone of rank?

  Then he smiled. Because he was a bloody duke, he could do as he damned well pleased.

  With those thoughts, he hurried through his toilette and dressed for the day before making his way to the school of dance. Bianca was already at the piano and her music flowed over him, calming his soul. To hear her every day would make the days he was required to be in England bearable.

  His heart lifted at the sight of her and he was reminded once again, that it was Bianca he wanted. And Bianca would be his.

  “Good morning,” he called as he came further in to the room.

  She stopped playing and turned, a bright smile upon her face and those pewter eyes practically sparkled with happiness.

  His breath caught for just a moment and then he released it. “Shall we play?”

  “Yes,” she sighed and turned, facing the keyboard as he lifted the violin.

  As the first of the students began to arrive, it was all Mark could do to stop himself from just sending them all away. But, he could not. He must keep up the fabrication until the Season began and then, finally, he would be free to pursue the woman at his side.

  * * *

  Bianca was fairly floating as she entered the dance studio. For two weeks they’d worked on the composition, finally getting the violin correct last evening. She could not wait for them to play it today.

  She’d also written another piece when she’d been home in the evening. Another one that required strings. Would she now always hear in full orchestra or would she one day return to just hearing the piano?

  The only disconcerting thing about the past two weeks were her dreams. Even though it was Mr. East she thought of as she drifted off, it was Bertram who came to her. Pushing her to keep her heart open. Last night he urged her to promise not to shut it away if things did not turn out as they appeared. The message was so very cryptic. What wasn’t what it seemed to be? Other than the past she portrayed?

  But her brother did know her well enough to know that her heart was far too involved with Mr. East. He’d not given her permission to call him by his given name, which was for the best, and she wasn’t so certain she could regardless. Manfred didn’t quite fit him, which she wouldn’t even think of him in her own mind. It was too personal. Too intimate. And each day it became more and more difficult to fight the urge to draw close to him. To kiss him as he had almost once kissed her. To know what was like to be held by a man.

  But, she could not give in. It was far too dangerous. Not only for her heart but her virtue as well. She wanted more than a kiss. She wanted to experience everything. Such thoughts and desires would see her destroyed, which was why she had come to a decision.

  They had but a few weeks left together and then his lessons would be done. Mr. East would have no cause to come to the dance school, nor would she request his further assistance in writing music. Thus, she was going to ask him to teach her the violin. Once she learned one stringed instrument, she should be able to learn the viola, cello and bass as well. Or so she hoped.

  And in the few weeks they had together, she’d build memories of the one man who had tempted her to let go of the past. The one man she’d loved.

  “You are in fine spirits today,” Mr. East noted as she nearly danced into the room.

  “I cannot wait to hear the full song today.” She settled at the piano. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded and picked up his violin then took a place behind her. She took a deep breath and began to play, then closed her eyes. The music of the piano and his violin washed over her, filling her, conveying everything she wished for in this life. Happiness and love. It was more that she dreamed when it only played in her head. It spoke to the depths of her soul.

  As the violin trailed off and she let her fingers fall from the keys, she sighed once again, relaxed and so very content.

  “That was lovely,” Lady Acker announced as she glided into the room.

  “Thank you.”

  Lady Acker studied Mr. East. “I did not know you played the violin.”

  “I hadn’t for a long time. Not until Miss Valentine inspired me to do so again.”

  Bianca laughed. “I only asked for his assistance. There was no inspiration.”

  “I disagree.” He smiled down at her, his brown eyes warm that heated her soul.

  “Perhaps you should take up composition,” Bianca teased.

  “If I had your gift, I would.” He lifted the violin from his shoulder and put it into the case. “Sadly, I am but a musician.”

  Mr. East stiffened as another gentleman walked into the room.

  Lady Acker smiled. “I’d like to introduce my husband, Viscount Acker.”

  Bianca nodded her head, not sure if she should stand and curtsey.

  “My wife tells me that you are from Barbados, Mr. East.”

  “I am.”

  “Might I have a word? I’ve questions about sugar.”

  Mr. East closed his case and nodded. “Of course.”

  Bianca watched him go, a sadness coming over her. It was time anyway. Lady Acker’s students would be here shortly, but she hated for even a few of her moments alone with Mr. East
to be taken away. They had so few left before the Season began.

  Chapter 13

  Mark walked across the alley and into the house with Acker. A gentleman he had not seen in many years. He also suspected Acker had no intention of discussing sugar.

  “It appears living on the island has agreed with you, Your Grace.”

  Mark stiffened at the title, then rang for some coffee. It was barely past nine in the morning and he’d slept little. Every night was troubled with dreams of Bianca. Soon though, if all went as planned, she would be his and in his bed, and he’d finally be able to sleep again.

  “How can I assist you, Acker?”

  “My wife is concerned.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

  “I understand that you’ve been here for a number of weeks.”

  Mark held up his hand to stop Acker from talking as a footman delivered the coffee service and retreated, closing the door behind him.

  “That I haven’t announced that I returned to London.”

  “That, and the attachment that might be developing between you Miss Valentine.”

  Mark poured a cup of coffee for Acker and then himself. “She need not worry.”

  “Does Miss Valentine know who you really are?”

  “No.”

  “How do you think she will feel when it’s revealed?”

  “I’m not sure that it matters.” The one thing going for him was his title. In most cases, that was in a gentleman’s favor, not a detriment.

  “She’s a daughter of a missionary.”

  “I’m aware.”

  Mark was not certain why Acker was here or what he wanted, but he wasn’t going to give any information away until he knew.

  “Bloody hell, you are a duke, she is the daughter of a missionary, are you prepared for her broken heart when the truth is out, or are you simply playing with her emotions?”

  Mark straightened. “I’m prepared to make her my wife.”

  Acker stilled as his eyes widened with surprised. Then, he blew out a sigh. “Then I’ll inform Juliette that she has nothing to worry about.”

  “Why would she worry?”

  “I understand you became a dancing master to meet the young ladies before the Season began. While I don’t agree with fooling everyone in such a way, my wife supported your plan and it is her school.”

  “But?” Mark prompted when Acker didn’t finish but kept drinking from his coffee.

  “She noted that you’d taken interest in none of the young ladies, but in Miss Valentine instead.”

  “And?” Why didn’t the gentleman just come out and say what was on his mind instead of taking drinks of coffee?

  “She feared you were toying with Miss Valentine’s heart before you abandoned her.” Acker met his eyes. “Juliette believes Miss Valentine has fallen in love with you and she does not wish to see the young woman hurt.”

  His heart lifted, and a slow smile came to Mark’s face. “In love with me? Has she said so to your wife?”

  “No. Miss Valentine keeps her own counsel, but my wife is very observant.” He set his empty cup on the table. “But have you considered the stir it will cause if you do not marry within the peerage?”

  Mark studied him, recalling what Lady Acker had once told him. “Is it any different than a viscount marrying a ballerina?”

  “She was Lady Juliette when we wed.”

  “Yet, you did not know that when you wished to make her your wife in Milan.”

  Acker smiled. “Touché.”

  “If a viscount can marry a ballerina, why can’t a duke marry a composer who happens to be the daughter of a missionary?”

  * * *

  “Is there any place along this street where one might buy a violin?” Bianca asked standing along the walk on Bond Street.

  “We are here to see you outfitted for the ball,” Rosalind reminded her. “We will barely have time as it is.” She pulled on Bianca’s arm as they approached the modiste.

  Her sister had been after her since they first came to London to go shopping. Bianca had been too busy. When she wasn’t at the dance school, she was in the Felding’s music room composing and playing. The only reason she allowed Rosalind to drag her from the house today was because she wished to purchase a violin. Not a ball gown.

  “Suffer through it as we had to,” Isabella insisted, not happy to be there either.

  “Let her have her way, then she’ll leave you alone,” Perdita advised.

  “I will, if we find a place where I can purchase a violin when we are done.” Oh, how she wished she knew London better, but she didn’t. And, even though she took different streets to and from the school to the Feldings’, she had yet to see a store that sold musical instruments.

  “I will ask,” Rosalind promised. “But gowns first. Violins second.”

  “One gown,” Bianca corrected. “I will attend the ball you and Felding are hosting, but not another.

  “Five gowns, as well as an array of walking gowns, day dresses and the like.”

  Bianca stepped back. “I do not need any of those dresses.”

  “Yes, you do.” Rosalind pulled on her arm again, right into the modiste’s shop. “Once the Season begins your hours will be freer and I might need you to accompany me to various functions.”

  She shot her sisters a disbelieving look.

  “As Isabella and Perdita will not accommodate me more than necessary, the chore falls to you as you will have more time than they will.”

  This time she narrowed her eyes on them. She’d somehow get them back for this betrayal.

  So the day commenced with choosing fabrics and designs before being stripped and measured. Then Rosalind dragged her off to shop for bonnets, hosiers, lace, ribbons, slippers and boots. It was all quite exhausting and Bianca fairly fell into the squabs once she was allowed to enter the carriage.

  “Wasn’t that delightful?” Rosalind exclaimed.

  Bianca and her sisters groaned.

  “What of my violin?”

  “Oh dear, I’d forgotten and didn’t think to ask anyone.”

  A convenient lapse.

  “For once, could you not think about music?” Rosalind asked kindly. “You are not living, Bianca. A piano, though beautiful is not warm. You need to enjoy spending time with people.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say she enjoyed spending time with Mr. East but did not wish for her sisters to question her about the statement. It was best they didn’t know about him, or her growing attachment.

  “I’ll simply shop for it myself.” With that she turned and looked out the window to the passing scenery. She did not need to have more contact with people. She was perfectly happy with her music. Well, unless those people included Mr. East, and she would like to come to know Mrs. Thorn better. But that was all she needed, except her sister would never accept it. Not now that she had friends and enjoyed Society.

  Chapter 14

  “Only one week and then my toes can begin to recover.” Mark winked at Bianca as the last of his students left the building. He only had eight remaining, sending most off after there was nothing further he could teach them and knowing he’d already met his future wife. The only ones who remained were those who needed a dancing master with far more skilled than he possessed.

  “As you are not limping yet, I’m sure you’ll recover just fine.”

  He laughed. “Are you ready to work on your next composition?”

  Bianca smiled shyly and looked down. “Actually, I have a favor to ask.”

  This rather intrigued him. “How can I be of assistance?”

  “I wish to purchase a violin of my own.”

  For a moment his heart stilled. “Why?”

  “As you said, in a week you will no longer be teaching and be done here.”

  He may be done with students, but he’d never be done with Bianca. “I’ll continue assisting you with your music.” Had Acker been wrong? Did she have no tender feelings for him and
was ready for their friendship, partnership, whatever it was, to be over?

  “I cannot ask that of you.” She looked up. “Your time here is done.”

  It was a stab to his heart because he was fairly certain Bianca also meant that his time with her was done. It would never be over and she needed to realize that. Of course, he’d kept all feelings to himself and no matter how much he longed to kiss and hold her, he’d not done so. Perhaps his strategy needed some adjustment. Why wait until after the first ball? They were here now. “I will be remaining in London for some time.”

  “You also wish to return to Barbados,” she pointed out. “Which is why I wish to know how to play the violin before you’re gone.”

  A smile slowly formed on his lips. He’d like nothing better than to teach her. “Well, come along. I know where to purchase the finest of violins.”

  Bianca grimaced. “A violin, perhaps second hand. I cannot afford the finest.”

  With the low wages he and Lady Acker paid her, Bianca probably couldn’t even afford a previously owned violin. But, he would find a way for her to have one.

  “Very well.”

  Her shoulders relaxed and he escorted her from the school of dance. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and as they stepped outside, Mark tipped his hat low so as to cover his face. He’d been doing so more and more as they drew closer to the opening of the Season in fear someone might recognize him. He then hailed a hackney and gave the address on Tottenham Street.

  “Is it so far away?” Bianca asked.

  “No, but too far to walk, with my crushed toes and all.”

  She laughed and he enjoyed the lyrical sound of it. Then it struck him. He’d rarely heard Bianca laugh and found he liked the sound very much. He hoped she had reason to laugh in the future. He hoped he could make her laugh for many years to come.