by Donna Hatch
He tightened his grip. “I mean that. I’ll help you any way I can.”
She looked into his eyes with such a deep probing that he remained still, letting her look her fill and see the truth of his words. Instead, her own sincerity revealed itself. She was as guileless as a child. How could he have thought her guilty of theft or of playing a role two days past? The idea shamed him.
His attention focused on her lips. Were they as soft and sweet as they appeared? Again came that pull, this time as a woman beckons a man. Before he lost his head and did something to besmirch her reputation, he stepped back.
Inside the orchestra pit, she shed her wrap and gloves. She ran a hand along the fabric of her borrowed gown as if she’d never worn anything so fine. It certainly was a sight better than the rags she wore when he met her. After greeting the only other two female musicians, she settled in to warm up and tune. The other two female musicians exclaimed over her change in appearance but her response got lost in the pre-concert raucous.
Kit realized he was staring. He focused his thoughts and began his usual pre-performance routine of tuning, warm ups, and quieting his mind. The performance went. Nothing noteworthy happened except for the sense of wholeness he once again experienced during his violin-harp duet. He could have played that passage all night.
At the conclusion, Alex gestured at Kit. “I got word today that our regular harpist is returning tomorrow, so please tell your little ladybird that she is no longer needed. The manager will have her wages ready in the morning. She needs to go see him in his office.”
Closing his eyes, Kit let out his breath slowly. Poor Susanna. She’d be crushed. Now what? “I’ll tell her. But she’s a lady—not a ladybird.”
Kit glanced at Susanna. She stood chatting with the only female musicians, smiling and eyes alight as if all were right with the world. How could he ruin that?
After wiping and packing his violin, he donned the careless façade he once wore when he played the society games in an effort to please his family before he walked away from what his father called the “duties of his class” and found his own place in the world. Of course, that place had grown somewhat lonely of late. Truth be told, he missed his family. Seeing both his mother and his sister in the same week reminded him how much they meant to him. Perhaps he ought to make a point to pay a call on his brother, Dunlap, when he arrived in London. Just because they disagreed on, well, almost everything, didn’t mean they should cut all ties of communication.
Kit strolled to Susanna and smiled politely at the other two women.
“Evening, Mr. Anson.” The younger of the pair grinned. “You and Susanna fairly brought the house down again tonight with your duet. You are quite a pair.”
He glanced at Susanna. “It’s a pleasure to play with such a talented and passionate musician.” Was she as passionate in other areas? He wanted to find out.
She had become a friend, a kindred spirit. She also had the refined manners of a princess, without the haughtiness. His mother would probably like her. If Susanna got over her overly abundant gratitude, she would fit in nicely with his family and their circle of friends—the intimate ones, at least. His father, of course, would find her beneath the family standards and would never accept her, but Kit never saw the old tyrant anyway.
He held out an arm to Susanna. “I’ll see you back now, if you wish.”
Smiling, she took his arm. “After you drop me off, are you having dinner at the Silver Duck as usual?”
“Esther invited me to stay for a late meal when I deliver you home.”
Did he imagine her pleasure? In the orchestra pit’s dim lighting, he could not be certain if she were blushing and if her downward gaze hid a sparkle.
The Daubrey’s carriage awaited them and Kit handed Susanna in. They greeted Mrs. Hart who nodded, yawned, and looked outside again.
Susanna let out a happy sigh. “If I had known how much pleasure I could derive from performing in front of a live audience, I would have done this sooner. How long do you think I have this position?”
A direct question, needing a direct response. He let out his breath, finding his courage to tell her the bad news. “In truth, I just learned that the other harpist plans to return tomorrow night.
“So soon?” Her posture deflated. In a small voice, she said, “It’s good that his injury was not so severe, then.” She swallowed.
“The manager will have your wages ready for you on the morrow,” he added.
She nodded, her brow furrowed. “I need to find another position, and quickly.”
“There are other orchestras. Vauxhall Gardens, the Royal Orchestra, and there are always small groups who hire themselves out for dinner parties and balls and such. I will write you a letter of recommendation, and Alex will, I am sure. I will do anything I can to help you.”
She gave him a pained smile. “Thank you, but you’ve already done too much. I am beholden to you beyond my ability to repay you—and Esther, as well.”
“I don’t want repayment, and you know it. As I told you, I was once a musician with virtually nothing.”
She fixed a steady pair of eyes on him. “You’ve never had nothing. You have parents, a brother, and a sister who clearly loves you. You were only alone because you chose to be.”
Her words struck him. She was right, of course. He had been driven to prove to his father, and himself, that he could succeed on his own merit. He had also felt moral-bound to reject his father’s method of making money. If he were honest, he also had been delighted to leave behind all the silly pretenses and pretty lies found in the ballrooms of the upper crust of society. However, he’d never gone truly hungry. He had never slept in an alley. If his situation had grown desperate, all he had to do was swallow his pride and access his allowance, or even go home.
He nodded to concede her point. “Be that as it may, I once had uncertain prospects and missed a few meals. Alex gave me a chance. I cannot repay him directly but I would be ungrateful if I didn’t help you.”
She nodded, studying her fingers. “I appreciate your sense of duty.”
Perhaps he had helped her out of duty at first—the same way he would have helped an old woman who’d fallen in the street. Now, his motivation for helping Susanna had become different. He liked her. He liked spending time in her company. The night they had talked and danced had been one of the most enjoyable nights of his life, as had each moment he spent in her company from the very first moment. When the lawman had made a grab for her, a surprisingly protective side of him had come out. Yet that protective side is not what drove him to see her safely settled with a position and a place to live—not to mention that something needed to be done about the charges against her or she’d never be safe.
Still, none of that explained why he wanted so badly to see her happy nor why he thought of her all his waking hours or why thoughts of touching her became all-consuming. It all centered around her, and his ever-growing feelings for her.
Was this love?
They arrived at Daubrey’s house. His sister greeted them as they arrived. “How did the performance go?”
Kit handed his coat and hat to the butler. “Brilliantly, as usual.”
Susanna removed her pelisse and said quietly, “The principal harpist is returning tomorrow so they won’t be needing me anymore.”
Tess glanced at Kit. He nodded. She put her arm around Susanna. “Not to worry, my friend.”
Susanna’s mouth pulled into a tight smile. “With the money I’ve earned so far, I ought to be able to rent a room from a boarding house. Would you write me a letter of introduction?”
Tess squeezed her shoulder. “I could, of course, but then I would be robbed of the privilege of enjoying your company. Won’t you please stay? We can visit museums and shop to our heart’s content, and won’t have to worry about hurrying home so you can rest before your performance.”
Good ol’ Tess, always turning bad news into good.
Susanna smiled sadly.
“I cannot remain here on your charity indefinitely. I only came because I’d believed it was temporary—that I could be independent in the near future.”
“All the more reason for you to stay. I certainly won’t stand by and allow you to go when you have nowhere to live.” Tess softened her voice, turned pleading. “Please stay as my guest. Tomorrow if the weather is fine, I want to take you riding at the park.”
Susanna faltered. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t have a riding habit, and I haven’t been on a horse in years.”
“No riding then,” Tess said. “We’ll go to the exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art and do some of those other activities I’ve been excited to share with you. Today our sightseeing gave me a taste of what diversions we can have together.”
Susanna shook her head. “I cannot spare the time. I must search for a new position, learn if there are any scheduled auditions.” She glanced at Kit. “I don’t suppose next time I can simply show up at a stage door and beg every concertmaster to arrange an impromptu audition.”
Kit said, “I will make inquiries for you and write you a letter of recommendation as I’m sure Alex will.”
Susanna hesitated.
“No need to decide tonight,” Tess said. “You both need food. It’s been hours since dinner, and neither of you ate much then.”
Tess led them into the dining room where footmen carried in platters of bread, cheese, soup, and fruit. Kit tucked into his meal but Susanna only picked at her food. How could he alleviate her fears? Surely she knew Tess and Daubrey would give her a home and food for as long as she needed it. Her reluctance to accept charity was admirable but misplaced in this instance. Although he had to admit, she reminded him a great deal of himself when he first left home, determined to prove to himself and his father that he had the strength and tenacity to manage his own affairs and be independent. If only he could smooth the worry lines from her face. He would set about sending messages to everyone he knew in the music world to help find her a position. Of course, there was another way to see to her financial needs…
Daubrey entered, greeted everyone, and took a seat next to Susanna. “Miss Dyer, I made some inquiries for you and have learned that your brother’s captain is in town. I took the liberty of sending him a message requesting his presence. He replied that he’d be delighted to speak with you tomorrow morning, if that suits you.”
Susanna’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that would be lovely, thank you.”
Tess interjected. “We’ll visit the museum afterwards.”
“I also wish to meet with the theatre manager,” Susanna said. “He will have my pay ready.”
“Of course,” Tess agreed.
Kit glanced at Susanna, toying with the offer to be present to lend his support while Susanna spoke with the captain about her brother, but held his tongue. Such a meeting would surely be personal, and unless Susanna invited him, it wasn’t his place to intrude.
Kit smiled as Tess coaxed Susanna to talk about playing the harp, when she started, what she loved best about it. Susanna’s guard dropped as she painted a picture of a country manor. She’d clearly been raised the daughter of a gentleman. If her parents still lived, her life would have been drastically different. Again came that longing to have a few moments alone with the aunt and uncle who should have loved and cared for her.
Susanna and Tess conversed as easily as if they’d been friends for years, even sisters. Perhaps Kit could provide Tess with the sister she’d always wanted. He’d never considered such before meeting Susanna. But the prospect sent energy through him.
He glanced at Susanna whose eyes and posture drooped. “You look weary.” He stood. “Thank you for the meal, Tess.” As he turned toward the door, a suddenly strong reluctance to leave Susanna halted his steps. He glanced at her. “Would you see me out, please?”
Her brows arched in surprise but she stood and walked with him toward the door. As they crossed the foyer, he took her hand and tried to come up with something to say, some reason to prolong his visit. Her ungloved hand fit into his, so small and delicate. Its warmth spread up his arm and warmed him all over.
He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “Esther clearly loves having you here. Please try not to worry. I’m confident you will secure a new position soon enough.”
Her features relaxed. “I do not know what I did to deserve such kindness. I am grateful, nonetheless.” She looked up into his eyes, her face glowing with warmth and even affection. “How can I ever thank you?”
When was the last time a female looked at him with such unreserved fondness? Her guileless charm, her sweet, unspoiled honesty touched his heart. How refreshing to be admired by a lady who wanted nothing in return. Her lips parted innocently and curved. A skilled seductress could not have been more tempting than her sincerity.
He leaned in, aching to kiss those lips. He caught himself. If he kissed her now, she might suspect she owed him her favor because he and his sister had helped her. No, he’d wait until she knew his actions sprang from true affection. Instead, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand.
“No need to thank me. I am delighted to be of assistance. If I fail to rescue a lady in need at least once a week, I feel that I am neglectful as a gentleman.” He grinned and tapped the tip of her nose. “I hope your meeting with the captain goes well tomorrow.” As much as he wanted to be there for her during that meeting, he must respect her privacy, and she had not invited him to join them.
“Thank you.” Again came that shy, affectionate glance.
He bowed and stepped out into the night. Whistling all the way home, he hardly noticed the chilly night air. Susanna’s face, the sound of her voice, the feel of her hand in his, occupied his thoughts and happily robbed him of sleep until the wee hours of the night.
Chapter Eleven
Standing in the middle of Esther’s parlor, Susanna held out her hands, trying to ward off the force of a determined Esther. “I cannot take this from you.”
Esther took her by the hand and led her to a low stepstool. “Of course you can. It doesn’t fit you as it should, though.” The seamstress held the dark blue pelisse while Susanna slid her arms into the sleeves. The seamstress stood back to survey the fit, then sprang into action, measuring and pinning.
Susanna ran a hand over the soft fabric. “If you have it altered, it will no longer fit you.”
“It already doesn’t fit me.” Esther stopped in front of a mirror and smoothed her hair. “I’ve gained a few stones since I had that made. I have two new ones now, so I have no need of it.” She turned and smiled ruefully. “Besides, I am exceedingly vain, and I don’t want to be seen with anyone who wears a coat as old as yours. Naturally I think my own taste is best so I will dress you up like the little sister I never had.”
Susanna flushed and bit her lip. “I don’t suppose I can blame you. I can see how my clothing might be an embarrassment to someone like you.”
“Oh, no, I’ve done it again,” Esther said. “I didn’t mean that as unkindly as it sounded. You couldn’t be an embarrassment even if you tried.” She drew nearer and smiled. “You have to admit, though, your coat looks as if it’s at least two decades old.”
“I cannot argue with that, but—”
Esther held up her hand. “You may have noticed that I am also insufferably spoiled so you might as well give in. I always have my way—it comes from being the only girl in a household of boys, and having a doting husband who cannot refuse my every whim.”
Once the seamstress finished, Esther handed Susanna two gowns, one of white cambric and the other pink silk. “Fit these to her, as well.”
“Oh, no, really,” Susanna said. “This is too much.”
“Now, now, none of that.” Esther said. “We are having a few friends for dinner tonight. Naturally, as my guest, you will join me. You must have something suitable to wear, and I was planning on giving them away anyway. Tomorrow, we can order some gowns of your own.”
Susan
na opened her mouth to speak but Esther rushed on. “No objections about the cost. I assure you, it is a trifle. I already spoke with my husband and he assures me that I have not yet spent my dress allowance for this Season. He’s so generous with that sort of thing. We are happy to share with you.”
Firmly, Susanna said, “No, Esther. I am sorry. I do not mean to insult you or be ungracious about your gifts, but I really cannot allow you to buy new gowns for me for which I have no hope of repaying.”
“You are already repaying me by being my friend. You see, I have many acquaintances, and some false friends who only pretend to like me because they are social climbers, or because they want me to introduce them to my older brothers. You clearly don’t want anything from me. Naturally, I trust you.” She smiled. “Besides, Kit likes you, and I’ve always trusted his judgement.” She sat and picked up a copy of Ackerman’s Repository and thumbed through the magazine, pausing at the fashion engravings.
Susanna fell silent. She’d never considered ladies in Esther’s position might be lonely, without true friends. Perhaps they had more in common than Susanna had first thought.
“I have a proposal,” Esther said. “I do not wish to step on your pride or your desire for independence. Allow me to give you the gift of one new gown—only one. Anything else you need can be fitted to you from my last year’s wardrobe which I am planning to discard. Please?” She held up her fingers as if measuring something. “Just one teeny little new gown?”
Susanna heaved a sigh. How could she refuse? How could she accept?
Esther stood and came to Susanna, taking her by the hand. “Imagine if our situations were reversed. You would want to do the same, would you not? Wouldn’t it give you great pleasure to dress me up?” She gave her a beseeching smile.
Esther was right. If Susanna had the means to help someone with nothing, she certainly would want to go about it just as Esther was for her. Susanna’s resistance crumbled.
She spread her hands. “As you wish.”
Her new friend smiled triumphantly and clasped her hands together as if she had been given a gift, rather than the other way around.