Staring back wide-eyed, he closed his mouth and gave her a nod before closing his eyes once again.
The carriage turned down London’s cobbled streets with slow precision, winding its way until they reached Thomas’s townhouse. They entered the foyer and Crowly, the giant of a butler, took her pelisse and gloves. “Thank you.”
Thomas offered his arm. “Shall I give you a tour of the property?”
She placed her hand on his forearm. Heat seeped through his clothes and infused her despite his chilly exterior.
He opened the double doors to the right revealing a large ballroom. “I have never given a ball, but the room is nice.”
She left his side to stand in the center of the cavernous room. “This is exquisite, Tom.”
“I am glad you like it. The house is far too big for me, but I can afford it and I like to aggravate the peerage by having a larger house than many titled men.” He led the way out to a long veranda shaded by several willow trees as tall as the house.
Despite their size, the low hanging leaves gave an intimacy to the outdoor space. “I love this.”
His lips twitched but the smile never appeared. “I can give you a tour of the gardens later.”
She followed him around the house, peering inside three parlors, his study, and a dusty library. He took her down to the kitchens and introduced her to more of the staff. She arranged a meeting with the cook and housekeeper later in the day. “How many bedrooms do you have here?”
Holding her elbow, he guided her up the steps to the second floor. “There are six besides the master suite, which connects to the lady’s chamber. Feel free to take whatever room you prefer.”
Her heart pounded and she had to swallow down the lump in her throat. “Is the lady’s chamber in use?”
Opening a door, he revealed a feminine room with cream walls and a pastel rug. It was clean and her trunk already placed near the wardrobe. “No, but I want you to do as you please and not feel hemmed in by society’s rules. You should hire any staff you feel necessary. I am sure I do not have the appropriate staff for a lady in the house.”
“I do not wish to be a burden to you.” She ran her hand along the lace of the bedspread.
“It is no burden. My room is through there. You are not required to enter, but you are welcome.” The cordial invitation paired with his cold stare and clipped tone held no allure.
Why had he changed from the man who had made love to her and wanted to play the harp? She opened the door to his room. In stark contrast to her bedroom, his had hard surfaces and masculine colors of autumn. It was like stepping from spring into fall to walk between the two. Perhaps it was a testament to how different they were. A door to separate what should never have come together.
He stayed in the doorway. “Take a parlor for your own and decorate it as you see fit. Actually, you may redecorate anything you like. The house is as I found it. I have no eye for such things and it suited my needs.”
Vanilla and spice, along with a scent she couldn’t place, filled her senses. She touched his bedding and slid her fingers across until she reached his pillow. Sorrow swamped her and she pulled her hand away. “I did not see the music room.”
A slow smile lit his face. “I saved the best for last.”
It was the first time she had seen him smile in days and the effect shot through her as if he’d caressed her from head to toe.
Returning downstairs, she followed him down the main hall to the back end of the house.
He pushed open the doors, revealing a long room with the most stunning pianoforte as the centerpiece. A harpsichord filled the back corner and scattered around the room were violins, violas, a cello and several other beautiful instruments. To the right of the door was a harp carved with Greek figures. It gleamed in the light filtering through the curtains.
She ran her hand along the curved wood.
“A wedding gift.” He shrugged.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Tom.” She hugged him. It was an impulse of the moment.
His arms wrapped around her and for a moment he was himself again. Then he stiffened and dropped his hands to his sides. “No one will disturb you here. I have a small writing desk where I piddle with composing. If you do not mind sharing, feel free to use it in that capacity. Of course, my compositions are nothing compared to yours, but I enjoy the process.”
“I am thrilled to have a place to play and write.” Her voice was so small, she didn’t recognize herself.
“I have work to tend to. Should you require anything, just let one of the staff know. They have orders to get you whatever you need.” He left the music room as if it was on fire.
With a sigh, Dory went to the pianoforte and sat. She ran her fingers down the keys letting them caress her fingertips. Sitting up straight, she ran through several exercises to loosen her fingers. She let all the fear and sorrow of the last few days pour into her playing. Tears dampened her cheeks, but she played on.
Losing track of time while playing happened all the time. Eyes closed, she let the music flow from her. When the door opened, delight surged through her. Perhaps Tom liked the music enough to return.
She opened her eyes.
Anthony Braighton smiled from the other side of the instrument.
Disappointment sank like bad eggs in her belly. She rose and curtsied. “Mr. Braighton.”
His dark hair fell over his forehead as he bent his lean tall body into a bow. “Mrs. Wheel.”
Confused and curious about his arrival, she pointed to the chair a few feet away. “Have you come to call on me?
“I would claim it, but my purpose was to see your husband. He stepped out and I was waiting for him. I confess the music drew me down the hall. I am sorry to intrude.” His American accent made every word harder but reminded her of his sister, Sophia.
“Tom went out?” He hadn’t even bothered to let her know he was leaving.
Fiddling with the lace on the red velvet pillow, he clutched it then put it aside. “The butler said he would return momentarily.”
Everything about Anthony Braighton made her like him almost as much as his sister. He was open and everything he thought produced a corresponding expression. He could hide nothing, not even his nerves over being alone with her. “How are you enjoying London?
A wide grin spread across his handsome face. His olive skin bloomed with a slight blush. “There is always a distraction here. I like it very well.”
“Will you stay or return to America?” She pressed the fingers of her left hand to the keys, tapping out a light tune.
Glancing at her fingers, he said. “I hope to stay. I have enlisted a partner to run things in Philadelphia. Strange as it may sound, I miss my family when I am away.”
She stilled her hand. “Why should that be strange?”
With a stiff back, his glance darted to the high ceiling before returning to her. “Men are supposed to be strong and not care about sentimentality. Still, I find that after a few weeks without seeing my mother or my sister a malaise sets in over my heart. You probably think I am a fool.”
No one missed her from day to day. It must be wonderful to have that kind of family connection. “I think that is the nicest thing I have ever heard. You are lucky to have such a family.”
His blush deepened but he shook his head and grinned at her. “When I am not longing for my sister’s company, I generally want to wring her neck.”
Dory burst out laughing. “Do not say anything bad about your sister. She is one of my closest friends.”
“Then you know how stubborn she is.”
It was not a secret that once Sophia set her mind to something, it was impossible to sway her decision. “She has a firm idea of what she wants.”
“Well put.” Anthony laughed and slapped the arm of the chair.
“You two look to be havin
g a fine time.” Tom strode in, his face a mask of indifference but his back stiff and his fist clenched as if he might challenge someone to a fight.
Anthony jumped to his feet. “I was waiting for your return and Mrs. Wheel was kind enough to keep me company.”
Tom glared from one to the other.
Was it jealousy burning in his eyes? Impossible.
“What do you want, Braighton?”
Either indifferent to Tom’s attitude or uncaring, Anthony’s expression blossomed with excitement. “I have a business offer for you, Wheel. I think it will be good for both of us.”
“You had better come to my study, then, and tell me all about it.” Tom followed Anthony out the door looking back once at the threshold.
Heart beating twice the speed of a metronome, Dory poked at the keys until her breathing steadied and she pushed away everything but the music.
Chapter 11
Once Tom heard Anthony out and showed him to the door, Tom returned to the music room. In the hallway, he leaned against the wall listening to her despair. Obviously, being married to him brought her nothing but sorrow, but the deed was done. All he could do was give her what she wanted and hope they’d tolerate each other. His heart broke with every minor note weeping from the instrument.
By the second bridge, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Shaking his head to clear away the sorrow, he strode down the hall toward his study. The music followed him.
Papers, letters, and contracts overtook his desk. In his absence, his secretary had organized the piles of paperwork for Thomas to go through. With a sigh, he sat and started with the letters.
Crowly appeared in the doorway. “Sir?”
“Yes, what is it?”
Silver tray in hand, Crowly crossed the room. “These messages arrived for you while you were on your honeymoon, sir.”
Three notes lay on the tray. The first was an invitation to a dinner party at the Earl of Marlton’s townhouse. Dory was correct about one thing. They were likely to only receive invitations from their closest friends. However, when one had friends in high places, things could turn around.
The other two notes both had Dory’s family seal.
“When did these arrive?”
“The thick one came three days ago, the others just this morning.”
“Crowly, would you ask my wife to join me? You will find her in the music room.”
“Yes, sir. I can hear that.” He lumbered out of the room.
Thomas placed the notes on the desk in front of him. One was twice as fat as the other.
The music stopped. It was both a pity and a relief. Perhaps one day she would play something less sorrowful.
Soft footsteps sounded down the hall, and then the door to his study opened. Dory stepped inside. “You wanted to see me?”
“We have an invitation to Marlton’s for dinner tomorrow night.”
Dory sat across from him in one of two chairs facing his desk. “Leave it to Sophia to make sure we are not ignored.”
“We are lucky to have such good friends. Would you like to attend?” He loved the way her hair fell in ringlets around her face and neck. Just looking at her made his heart pound faster.
“Of course. She is throwing the party for our benefit. We must attend.” Her gaze bore into him as if daring him to disagree.
“I will write directly and accept the invitation.”
“Was there anything else?”
Did he see hope in her eyes? It must be the lighting. “We have two other messages and both carry your family seal.”
She gripped her hands in her lap. “What do they say?”
“I have not opened them, Dory. I thought you might prefer to read them.” He passed them across the desk.
She took them and read the address on the envelope. “They are addressed to you, Tom.”
“I noticed.”
“Why would you hold them over for me?”
Thomas wished she could see what he saw when he looked at her. Maybe that was the key to fixing what lacked in their marriage. Standing, he hoped for something brilliant to come to him before he rounded his desk and sat in the chair next to her. “I know I am not what you wanted, Dory. However, I would like for us to find contentment with our situation. I like you. You are an intelligent and sensitive woman. I saved the letters for you because you are my equal and will be treated as such. If my family wrote to you under these circumstances, I hope you would act in a similar fashion.”
“You are a strange man, Tom.”
He laughed. “And you mean that in the kindest sense.”
A smile lit her eyes. “Which one shall I open first?”
“Crowly tells me the fatter of the two came three days ago, and the other this morning. Perhaps it’s best to start with the first. I suspect it will be the worst of the two.” He leaned back.
With shaking hands, she broke the seal and opened the letter. Tears filled her eyes but did not fall. After a moment, she turned the page, and then looked at the second sheet of scribble. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “Shall I give you the short version or would you like to read it yourself?”
“You can just tell me what it says.” He braced for a scathing put down from her father.
“My father says I am dead to him and you are a scoundrel. No gentleman would have done what you did. He claims you have stolen his property and ruined him and my mother. It goes on and on and he uses language I have never heard before. His English is not very good, but you should probably read it yourself. There is mention of money in more than one place.” She handed him the pages.
Tom folded them. He didn’t give a damn about the earl’s feelings. Dory’s eyes had filled with hurt and that he cared about. “What of the other one?”
With a sigh, she broke the other seal. “It is from my mother. She would like to call when we return.”
“Is that a good sign or bad?”
“It is hard to say. At least I am not dead to her. Father was probably drunk when he wrote the letter. I can tell by his scribble he was less than sober.”
“Will you respond to your mother?”
She nodded and folded the letter. “If you do not object, I will tell her we are at home and look forward to seeing her.”
“I do not object at all.”
“Thank you.” She stood.
He rose and stepped closer. “Dory, I hope you know that this is your home and you may do as you please here. I am not your master. We are in this together.”
“That is very kind of you.”
Longing for the warm woman he’d had in Scotland would not bring her back. “If you would not mind, I would like to discuss one other thing with you.”
With a nod, she sat again. “What is it?”
“You and I both know your father had planned to pay off a debt by marrying you to Hartly. I feel obligated to offer him compensation. He indicates our actions damaged your family monetarily. That does not sit well with me.”
Her eyes narrowed. Every muscle in her body was tight and ready to snap with the least bit of provocation. “No. He has squandered his money and wanted to use me as a pawn in his game. I would not like it if you paid his way. He will only do the same thing again.”
“I see.” He understood her anger at her father’s selfish motivations. “I will give it more thought.”
Her breath was fast and hard, lifting her breasts in the most tantalizing way. She might never love him, but he could not deny his attraction to her. Her conversation with Elinor rolled around in his head and cooled his desires.
She stood. “If there is nothing else, I will respond to my mother, and then speak to the cook.”
Rising with her, he pushed away the wild need to wrap her in his arms. “As you wish.”
She spun on her heels and strode from his study.
Collapsing back into the seat, he rubbed his face. How was he going to make this work? She was a puzzle, and he had to figure her out before they fell apart. Even knowing she would never have tender feelings for him, he still longed to make her happy. He’d vowed to do as much.
* * * *
Late that afternoon, he was still wading through the work left on his desk when Crowly announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Castlereagh.
“Show them into the formal parlor. I shall collect my wife and greet them there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thomas waited for Crowly to leave, and then waited another few moments for the couple to reach the parlor. He didn’t want them to see him searching for Dory. One thing Thomas had always hated was not knowing what would happen next. He prided himself on controlling his surroundings and being prepared for whatever might come. Since eloping, nothing had been in his control.
He knocked on the closed music room door.
“Yes,” she called from within.
Pushing the door open, he found her sitting with her head over the small desk. She scribbled notes wildly across the parchment.
Unable to resist, he eased over to her and gazed over her shoulder. A miraculous stanza of notes in B-flat stretched to the next and the next. He heard the music in his head, and though sad, it was also brilliant. “Forgive the interruption. I long to hear you play this beautiful creation more than you can know. However, your parents are here.”
She brought her head up. “Already?”
“I suppose they were eager to see you.”
“My father is here as well?”
“Yes. It would seem so.”
She lay the pen down, covered the ink bottle, stood, and brushed out her pale blue skirts. Patting her hair into place, she licked her lips and swallowed several times.
He took her hand. “It will be all right, Dory. You look lovely.”
Her forced smile never made it to her eyes. “Thank you, Tom. You are always here to save me, like a white knight on a charger.”
“I am no hero, Dory. But as I told you before, we are in this together.”
Desperate Bride Page 12