“They are held twice a week, Monday and Thursday. Sometimes there is a theme, such as costumes but not tomorrow.”
“Is evening dress appropriate?
“Yes, or military uniforms.”
Reid nodded.
“Do you both go?” Leighton asked.
“Yes, I shall look in on it,” the doctor said.
Reed shrugged. “I shan’t be dancing for a while but more goes on at a ball than dancing.”
Leighton nodded, trying not to put a grim twist on the man’s words but Reid never smiled. Though his speech gave Leighton no reason to distrust him, there was an unexplained reserve about Reid that made Leighton think the man was studying him.
Then it hit him that Reid was probably in pain. While Leighton had come home with no more than a scar, Reid must have taken a career-ending wound. Leighton began to try to think of some way to make it up to him, as though it were his fault. Then he stopped and scolded himself for assuming Reid could not manage on his own. He was always doing that, taking over and finding solutions where others did not even perceive there to be a problem.
Instead he should be applying himself to the problem of how to court Maddie. He must start with an apology, then engage her interest, possibly by showing her that mysterious piece of sheet music. Now there was a puzzle. Perhaps if he could get a moment alone with Maddie, she would have some idea what it could mean.
Chapter Eleven
Leighton returned from his ride the next day to discover Tibbs out and his rooms in obvious disorder, worse even than he usually left them. But when he looked through his baggage the only thing that seemed to be missing was the packet of music that had been delivered the day before.
He was just hanging up one or two of his coats when Tibbs returned.
“Well, really now, if you couldn’t find something, I think you might have waited for me to get back.”
“I didn’t do this. The door was unlocked and clothes scattered all over,” Leighton protested.
“You expect me to believe that? You were looking for something and made your usual mess.”
“You must have left the door unlocked. It’s a good thing I had all my cash with me or we would have been robbed.”
“Give me that!” Tibbs snatched a handful of neckcloths from Leighton and went off toward the bedchamber grumbling.
Leighton sat in defeat at the small writing desk and pulled out of his wallet the piece of music he had been writing for Maddie. The folded-up page of strange handwritten music fell out. For the first time he realized it had a scent to it. Not a perfume but something stronger. Tea, or…tobacco. That was it. The paper smelled like tobacco. So what did that do for him, except to bring back memories of his father chuckling as he filled his pipe?
He had always found time to listen to Leighton, no matter what crackbrained scheme he had in mind. He had even let Leighton try some of his ideas for repairing buildings or creating better farming implements. Sometimes these had even worked and his father’s praise had been effusive. It had almost compensated for his mother’s ridicule. How odd that they had ever married. They were nothing alike, not like him and Maddie. They were made for each other.
He called back the simple melody of the fountain in the courtyard and sat writing until he had finished the piece. Of course he would not know what it sounded like until he had access to a pianoforte.
“Tibbs?” He had forgotten the man was angry at him. Would he even reply?
“What now?” Tibbs poked his head around the doorframe.
“Is there a piano here in the hotel?”
“What the devil do you want with a piano? You said you have one at your estate.”
“But I need one now— Oh, never mind.”
Tibbs stalked away. “Wants a piano one minute, then it’s never mind.”
“God, look at the time. Have you pressed my evening clothes as I asked?” When Leighton pursued him to the bedroom, he found Tibbs looking heavenward and shaking his head. But his black swallowtail coat and knee breeches were laid out on the bed.
* * * * *
Maddie looked at Lucy primping in the mirror and wondered why she did not envy the girl. Lucy had beauty, wealth and doting parents. Maddie had not met Sir Phillip Haddon yet. He would not arrive from London until the next day. But tonight Lucy seemed brittle and unsteady for all her gaiety.
She looked up at Maddie. “You said you grew up with Leighton. Is he like a brother to you?”
“I think I used to feel that way about him since I had no brothers of my own. His sisters and he were always at the parsonage. They took lessons from my father.”
“Good.”
Maddie was still puzzling over the comment when Lady Haddon looked in on them. “You are lovely, both of you. Remember now, this is a practice field for London. You cannot afford to disgrace yourself here, Lucy. Madeline, your hair is enchanting. Simple, yet elegant. Show Lucy’s maid how to do hers like that for tomorrow.”
Maddie nodded, knowing the door would close again before she had a chance to reply. Lady Haddon reminded her a little of Leighton’s mother and she wondered what it would be like to live at Longbridge. Perhaps she would feel like a servant there as well. She heard the piano distantly through the oak door.
Lucy looked up at her. “Who could be playing?”
“Leighton must be here.” At the same time Maddie damned him for his arrogance, she followed the tune with her mind and had to admit he was good. She hurried back to her room for her shawl but reminded herself not to rush down the stairs just because he had arrived.
* * * * *
The piano had been too tempting. When shown into the empty salon, Leighton had immediately sat down and started picking out the notes of the song he was writing. He got out a pencil stub to make a correction midway, then made it to the end of the piece, sitting back to think about Maddie and how he would play it for her.
The sound of one person clapping caused him to look around in puzzlement.
“You must be Mr. Stone.” The woman who approached was ramrod straight with golden hair and bore some slight resemblance to Lucy. She reminded Leighton of the room, so precise with every last bit of lace perfect. Such a woman would want to put him in his place immediately.
“I’m so sorry,” Leighton said as he rose and bowed. “About the piano, I mean. I should have asked first.”
“Nonsense. You did no harm. Please sit.”
“I am Leighton Stone.”
“So I surmised. I am Lady Haddon. Do you make a long stay in Bath?”
“My plans are indefinite.”
“Indeed.”
Leighton caught the disapproval and guessed the cause, Lucy. A wary mother would always try to keep ineligible men away from her daughter. Leighton was not in the habit of being disapproved of and it amused him. “Do you make a long stay in Bath?” he countered, prompting a look of surprise from her.
“My mother lives here. We return to the country again in August.”
“Ah, grouse.”
“Yes, though my husband is the only one who hunts.”
She was probably worried she might have to entertain him again, might even be cornered into having him at the estate. Leighton knew how to be disarming. A frontal attack always worked. He sent his hostess a searching look. “I’m sure I have offended you somehow. If it was not the piano, then I cannot make out what I have said or done to put you out.”
She looked surprised but not shocked. “I am sure there is nothing offensive in your speech or manners. Certainly your playing was wonderful.”
“Oh, I see. You just don’t like me.”
She hesitated with her mouth open and blinked at him. “In a word, no.” She delivered her most quelling stare.
Leighton smiled brilliantly and nodded as though pleased with himself for having solved the puzzle. “I thought so.”
“Don’t you want to know why?”
“Oh, please don’t tell me. Ten to one it is something I cannot mend
anyway.”
Leighton sat at the piano again and began to run over the melody to Maddie’s song as though he did not care at all for Lady Haddon’s opinion of him, which was exactly the case.
She moved around to the side of the grand piano.
When he saw her standing there, he stopped playing.
“I tell you to your face I do not like you and you seem delighted. What sort of man are you?”
“An ordinary one, I think. But you are such a rare woman. Don’t you see how you intrigue me? Think how dull conversation would be if we all liked each other. I look forward to becoming the best of enemies with you.”
She laughed. With her guard down she suddenly looked more like her daughter. “You are the oddest boy. After this dinner and ball I shall have no more to do with you.”
She was flirting with him. “Yes, that is by far the best plan for you. But on the other hand, I do play well, so could be of some use to a hostess who wanted to get up a musical entertainment.”
“I have no such intention.”
He hesitated and looked up at her. “I think your mother might. Why else would she have invited me?”
“Why else, indeed? Let me make myself perfectly clear. My daughter is destined to marry well.”
Leighton thought his puzzled look genuine enough. “How does Lucy come into it?”
“I am merely stating that I have no intention of letting her throw herself away on a music master.”
Leighton laughed. “Is that what you were worried about?” He was trying to think of a way to assuage her fears without giving away his real purpose when her mother came in and demanded to hear again the piece he had been playing. By the time he had finished, Maddie and Lucy were there as well. It was not how he had planned to present the piece to Maddie and he felt that it had been cheapened by his playing it for someone else first.
“Mr. Stone is a music instructor, Cora,” Mrs. Marsden said. “I thought while he is in town, he could give Lucy a few lessons.”
Leighton could see the objection rising to Lady Haddon’s face and interrupted, “But I am here on holiday.”
“I thought you were here to recover from your cold,” Mrs. Marsden replied.
“That too but I don’t think I will have time to give any serious instruction.”
“Nonsense. Lucy already knows how to play. You will have time to make some progress with her if you come every other day.”
Maddie glared at Leighton as if to say, now see what you’ve gotten yourself into. But he decided it served his purpose. The more he was in the house, the more chance to see Maddie.
“I shall do my best but does Lucy even want piano lessons?” He looked toward the excited girl, who was twining her fingers together.
“Oh, above all things,” Lucy agreed, thus stopping her mother from vetoing the idea.
Dr. Murray made his usual timely entrance and presented Lieutenant Reid, who had not met Lady Haddon before. Leighton was pleased to note that she scowled at the soldier as blackly as she had at Leighton and also that the man did no more than blink at her rudeness.
“Well, we are only waiting for Gifford,” the grandmother said, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. “John Gifford is Sir Phillip’s cousin,” she said ominously.
She did not say “and heir,” but why else would a cousin be running tame in the house. Leighton thought perhaps he was also the man chosen for Lucy to marry. There was no title to pass on and whether the estate was entailed to male kin only was immaterial. They wanted to make sure the fortune Lucy inherited stayed in the family.
Gifford came into the room looking like a smaller edition of the Prince Regent, whom Leighton was sure he meant to copy. Leighton could have sworn his late appearance was intentional, an entrance to add to his consequence. After he was introduced to everyone and had scowled at both Leighton and Reid in a good imitation of Lucy’s mother, he took Lucy’s arm as though claiming her and waited for the others to precede him into the dining room. Dr. Murray took that as his cue to raise Mrs. Marsden to her feet and escort her. Reid, moved toward Maddie without even thinking about it. Leighton now had no choice but to take Lady Haddon’s arm to lead her in to dinner.
“Understand me, Stone,” she said through gritted teeth. “These lessons will be strictly chaperoned by Miss Westlake. Do I make myself clear?”
“Absolutely.”
In the loose protocol that covered the situation, a Lieutenant clearly was more important than a music master. But Reid had automatically offered to escort a woman of lesser station by assuming Leighton would lead in the highest ranking woman present. Either Reid was not a Lieutenant or he knew that Leighton had a title. How? Possibly from Dr. Murray, or even from his own observations in the Peninsula, though Leighton always went as Mr. Stone there, as well.
If he was puzzled, so was Lady Haddon. She was also discontented with the seating arrangement, which placed Lucy between Leighton and Reid. He asked himself who could have contrived that and Lucy smiled smugly at him.
Some look, almost a reprimand, passed from Murray to Reid, as though he were being admonished for his mistake. There was something more to the connection between these two than doctor and patient. That was another little puzzle Leighton would have to solve when he had a moment.
One black look from Gifford and suddenly Leighton knew why he had been invited by the grandmother. Probably Reid was there to annoy Gifford as well. Grandmother did not like the heir apparent and Leighton was inclined to agree with her assessment.
One reason became clear even before the first course was served. Gifford interrupted. Every time Mrs. Marsden said something, he either finished her sentence or countered it with his own opinion before she had finished speaking. As Leighton sipped his soup, he traded looks with Maddie. She gave him a dry smile that indicated Gifford normally behaved this way. The grandmother bore it with resignation. When Lucy’s mother spoke, Gifford fell over himself agreeing with her. The word sycophant came to mind. If Lady Haddon was this easily flattered, it meant Leighton could get away with anything but it also meant Lucy would be marrying a fool.
By the removal of the first course, even Lucy was getting tired of having her lines trampled upon and she simply quit saying anything. Maddie sent her a sad smile that made Lucy blush. Whatever Leighton did, he should make a push to show up Gifford for what he was.
There he went, interfering again. But perhaps he and Maddie between them could think of some way to spring the girl from this trap.
“I suppose you saw a bit of action in the Peninsula,” Gifford said to Reid when the table had been silenced by his overbearing rudeness.
Reid slowly took a sip of wine, waiting to see if an answer was expected. “Yes. I was attached to Lord Wellington’s staff, so I was in more than a few battles.”
Wellington’s staff, Leighton thought. Yet he had never seen him. Perhaps Reid was one of the observing officers, spending all his time in the field.
Gifford motioned for a servant to refill his goblet and took a large gulp before he proceeded with the interrogation. “Where did you take your wound?”
“Toulouse,” Reid answered, slapping his thigh.
“I haven’t heard—” Gifford started before Reid had finished.
“And before that Vitoria, Salamanca, and Albuera.” The Lieutenant finished by slapping his thigh.
“How terrible,” Lucy said, casting a worshipful look at the soldier.
“How very unlucky,” Gifford corrected, “to have your career shattered in such a way.”
Reid sent him that calculating look. “Fortunately I have an estate to return to and a title someday. Many have no expectations now that the war is over.”
Suddenly Lucy’s mother looked at Reid with interest.
“Lieutenant Reid’s father is Lord Thorpe,” Mrs. Marsden said.
There was dead silence for a moment as Gifford fumed and Lucy’s mother ran over the Thorpe holdings in her mind. Leighton felt someone had to say somethin
g and was just about to.
“But the war isn’t over,” Maddie said, “not the one with America. Will you be spared that, at least?”
“I doubt I will be recovered enough to go before a peace has been negotiated. I hear that the Russian emperor is brokering a treaty and that the American ambassadors are already in St. Petersburg.”
“So trade may soon resume unfettered,” Leighton concluded. “That is good to know.”
Both Murray and Reid seemed to be watching him to see how news of the peace would take him. Now why was that?
“Are you concerned with international trade, Mr. Stone?” Gifford asked.
“Why no, we barely— That is, with the poor harvest, British farms can barely feed the populace. There’s little in the way of foodstuffs for export. Though I imagine the manufacturers and ship owners will breathe a sigh of relief.”
“Ladies, shall we leave the gentlemen to their port?” Mrs. Marsden said as she rose. “Keep in mind, Gifford, that we mean to go out tonight.”
Maddie left with a resigned look but Gifford looked positively rebellious. After the decanter was passed, Leighton found himself wondering if the man behaved any better when Sir Phillip was present. Probably he fawned on him as well as on his wife.
Reid excused himself to go into the garden and smoke a cigar. Leighton wished he had acquired the habit, if for no other reason than to escape Gifford’s pompous monologue on the rudeness of Lucy’s grandmother.
“Well, it is her house,” Leighton said.
The man glared at him. “For the moment,” Gifford replied as though he planned to murder her in her sleep.
“And that Westlake girl. What is she doing here?”
“A companion for Lucy, who seems to lack friends.”
“Encroaching—”
“That is quite enough,” Leighton said in a voice he scarcely ever used, unless he was reprimanding a fractious colt. He stood. “A gentleman does not gossip about guests, especially when they are not his own. I shall see you downstairs, doctor.”
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