Music Master

by Barbara Miller

  “What is the sequence of the numbers?” Mrs. Marsden asked as Leighton took her arm and they went down the hill to the Pump Room.

  “First is the piano solo from Lucy.”

  “Yes, I want to get that over with,” the girl said.

  “Then a long duet with me on the cello and Maddie on the piano, a ballad with Lucy singing and Maddie playing, a short composition from me and as an encore piece, a duet from the girls with me playing the pianoforte.”

  Maddie spoke up to veto the last, claiming her voice was not good. So they substituted Maddie on the piano.

  “I suppose we should think of a second encore piece,” Maddie said.

  “No need,” Mrs. Marsden replied. “Several of the company can play and I will coerce them into it. One of them is your sister, Patience. Look, there she is now.”

  Maddie sucked in her breath, for her mother and Leighton’s father were with Patience. Leighton turned to her, a pleading look on his face. She found herself stepping forward with the rest of the party.

  “Well met, Mrs. Carter. I hope you still plan to come to our musicale tomorrow night.”

  “Yes, I never miss a chance to hear good music.”

  Maddie could see Patience’s face was flushed.

  “Who are your friends?”

  “Allow me to present William Stone and his wife, Rachel, visiting from America. This is Mrs. Marsden and her granddaughter, Lucy Haddon and—and—”

  “Stone? Any relation?” Mrs. Marsden asked.

  “Yes,” Leighton said, stepping forward and embracing his father. “My uncle. Well met again after so many years.”

  He kissed Rachel on the cheek and hugged her. Maddie felt tears well in her eyes but she swallowed them and avoided eye contact with her mother.

  “You are probably acquainted with Miss Westlake, as well,” Mrs. Marsden said.

  “We have met,” Maddie said in a rush, ducking her head in acknowledgment.

  “Patience, you must bring them with you Saturday. I cannot have you abandoning your guests.”

  “Oh, no,” Rachel said with a blush. “We cannot impose on you.”

  “Nonsense. It’s but a recital to flaunt the talents of these young people. Please, I want you there. Say you will come.”

  Maddie saw Leighton nodding to his father and that made her angry. How was she supposed to play with such overwhelming emotions roiling in her breast?

  “Very well, we would love to attend,” Rachel said. “It has been a long time since I have heard Miss Westlake play and I have sorely missed it.”

  The kindness and affection in Lord Longbridge’s eyes broke something in Maddie’s heart and she gulped. She sucked in a breath and looked at her mother, who was trembling. Why did everything always depend on her? She lifted her chin. “Yes, it has been many years since I played at all. ’Tis a wonder I have not forgotten all that I knew.”

  “That’s all settled then,” Mrs. Marsden replied.

  After a few more pleasantries, Leighton offered to walk them home. He had started up the hill with them when Maddie turned on him.

  “No need to make the trip up the hill again today Leighton. We will see you in the morning.”

  He looked at her with pain in his eyes. She wanted to embrace him, to say how sorry she was but apologizing was supposed to be his job. The fault was his, not hers, wasn’t it? He had what he wanted. She had recognized her mother without shouting at her. More she could not give. But his eyes were so like his father’s, kind and understanding behind the hurt.

  * * * * *

  Leighton went back to his hotel. He just made it to the lobby when he saw Lieutenant Reid, who appeared to be registering.

  “Coming over to stay at Prad’s? Have lunch with me in the courtyard.”

  “Very well.”

  The man came out and sat at the table Raymond held for Leighton. He seemed unaffected by the sunshine, the tinkling spring, or the gentle breeze that slipped through the dogwood trees. He asked for Madeira with his lunch and ate with military precision.

  “You seem to have recovered from your adventure,” Reid said.

  “So has Lucy. What’s more, Sir Phillip seems to have stamped on Gifford’s pretensions.”

  “Ah, I see. His star falls and yours rises.” Reid tipped his glass in acknowledgment.

  “But I do not want it to. I am in Bath for one reason and one only, to convince Maddie Westlake to marry me.”

  Reid resumed his chewing without looking up. “So you said.”

  “I do own to a ready sympathy for Lucy and wonder if, without Maddie propping her up, she might be compelled into the disaster of marrying Gifford.”

  “Why would Miss Westlake leave?”

  “She comes of age in a few days. If she hasn’t washed her hands of me by then, I hope to make her my wife. If Lucy had a choice of suitors…”

  “I am quite sure she has many.”

  “Admirers. She needs someone who is serious about her. Someone with a future, with an estate and a title someday, for instance.”

  “Don’t look at me so pointedly. I feel sorry for the girl too but I have a job—”

  “Oh, I thought you were on leave.”

  Reid took a deep breath. “Thank you for the lunch. I am sure I will see you again soon.”

  “You have been invited to Marsden House tomorrow night. If aught goes wrong with this musicale, Lucy could use some friends in attendance.”

  Reid stared at him, then nodded and limped away.

  Leighton still did not know if his claims to a title and land were false or real but he did know there was a smoldering interest in Lucy under the well-banked fires of Reid’s passion. But what was he passionate about? Leighton began to believe Reid was here to look for the spy rather than sell out his country. Hence his interest in Dr. Murray and Leighton Stone.

  He had no doubt that if Reid thought Leighton’s father was in some kind of plot, he would have him arrested—or shoot him to save the trouble. What had the message said? Will know location of fleet. Getting ships in train. Do you back enterprise? S-N.

  And how was the reply to be sent? This was not the first exchange of messages, so the recipient must have a way of responding. Leighton would give anything to know what the answer had been and who it had come from.

  It did not really implicate his father, even if he was now an American. Mrs. Scrope-Nevins had lined up the ships to rescue Napoleon and wanted to know the location of the fleet but she didn’t know it yet. That meant there was someone else involved. Were they asking his father for money?

  He overturned his empty glass when he recalled what Dr. Murray had said. Sir Phillip had to do with the naval appropriations. He might know where the fleet was. Poor Lucy, again.

  Chapter Twenty

  After sleeping on the problem, Leighton decided the wisest course was to ask his father if he had any involvement with a spy ring. He had the experience of people laughing in his face so often that it would not come ill from his own father. Why would he have sent the message on to Leighton as a joke if it were not trivial? If it turned out that he was involved, Leighton would just have to get him out of it.

  On his way to Marsden House he called at Patience’s town house but no one was home. He had the feeling the butler was telling the truth this time. Leighton left a card for Mr. Stone on which he scrawled, “I must speak with you in private.” He would see him tonight after the musicale, if not before.

  Lucy was already practicing when Leighton got to Marsden House and made it creditably through her piece. Her grandmother would have nothing to blush for in her performance. Today her mother sat through the rehearsal, with everyone playing the whole way through all the numbers. She suggested a slight rearrangement of the program and left them.

  “I am exhausted,” Lucy said and stretched her arms. “How often must I practice the piece today?”

  “Once only,” Leighton said. “Don’t give yourself a disgust of it.”

  “Very well, I am
going to see if my maid has my dress ready.”

  “Oh, Lieutenant Reid is back in town. I think we will see him tonight.”

  “Really? And his friend the doctor too, I’m sure.”

  When she had left them alone finally, Maddie rose from her chair and glared at Leighton. “You’re playing matchmaker now? With your lack of social adroitness?”

  “I swear I did not know we would meet them in the Pump Room. But they cannot closet themselves in Patience’s drawing room for three months. You must get used to seeing them.” Leighton got off the piano bench and walked around behind her.

  She set the music scores in the new order of play. “If you noted, I did not cause a scene.”

  “No, I was very impressed with how you handled what must have been a trying situation.” He put his hands on her shoulders from behind and she did not elbow him in the ribs. That was a good sign.

  “You were shaking in your boots,” she said with her usual frankness.

  “Only fearful that Rachel might break down.” He rested his face next to her. “I knew I could count on you.”

  “It was your father who convinced me I must act the lady. He is no different, as sweet and kind as ever. You would hardly think he could have stolen another man’s wife.”

  “I told you it wasn’t like that,” he whispered. “Your father’s jealousy drove her away. Recall he locked your mother out of the house. What was she to do?”

  “So you said several times. But just because Lord Longbridge is your father doesn’t make him perfect. He could have helped my mother get to York. He ruined my mother’s life and mine.”

  “Once Westlake turned her out, though innocent, she would have been branded an adulteress no matter where she went in England.”

  “But I lost her for all those years.”

  “Had you known she was alive, would your father have given you leave or the money to go and visit her?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Your father ruined his own life by being so mean and jealous. You are not the only victim here. He drove your mother away with his unjust accusations, rages and suspicions. Who could take such treatment?”

  “I did.” She looked sideways at him, a challenge in her fine green eyes.

  “I know and I am sorry for it. If I’d had any idea what you were going through, I would have abandoned my work and come back to help you.”

  “By marrying me?”

  Leighton wrapped his arms around her, careful to walk the fine line between affection and possessiveness. “How else can I help except by putting all I have in your hands.”

  “I never resented taking care of your people. It was being taken for granted that bothered me.”

  Leighton hugged her tighter. “I know now how much I erred, how it must have seemed to you. I should have told you what I was up to on one of my visits home. I should have contrived a way to meet you. You would never have let it slip to anyone.”

  “So you did appreciate what I did?”

  “I did not see how I could do without you. I know it is difficult to forgive a betrayal as close as your own mother. My mother said something to me the last time she hugged me, that I must have more of a care with my life.”

  “That is all too true.”

  “Because everything depended on me. If anything were to happen to me, they would be on the street.”

  Maddie turned in his arms to look at him. “That’s all you mean to her?”

  “Yes but she is a shallow person and I’ve always known that.”

  “So I should forgive your father and my mother because they are not shallow? They still betrayed me by not confiding in me.”

  “As your father did and as I did.”

  “And now Patience has too.” Maddie shook her head in amazement.

  “Ask yourself why Patience forgave them.”

  Her gaze searched his face. “Why?”

  “Love, Maddie. Love makes nothing else matter.”

  She shook her head no again, compressing her lips. She was definitely dewy-eyed this time.

  “Love cannot fix this.”

  Leighton raised a hand to brush a tear from her cheek. “Silly me. I thought love could fix anything. So, you still mean to make me choose between you?”

  She jumped a little in his arms. She had not been thinking that was what she had demanded of him. She felt her heart throbbing in her chest as though it were trying to escape her. She thought of the look of hope on his father’s face, her own mother’s mute, tearful appeal and finally of Leighton. They had all hurt her but none of them had meant it and they all wanted forgiveness. Was that so hard a thing?

  “No, my love for you does not depend on you not making a fool of yourself.” He pulled her down on the piano bench and she rested her head on his chest.

  “A good thing too, since I do it so often.”

  “So,” Lucy said from the doorway. “I was not mistaken about your intentions.”

  Maddie lifted her head to stare at her and Leighton looked up.

  “Wait, let me explain,” Leighton said, fearing a temper tantrum.

  Lucy looked smugly from one to the other of them. “I suspected there was something between you two from the start.”

  “Then you do not mind?” Maddie asked.

  “No, not so long as you stop crying and get on with it. How can I focus on my playing or my future when you two are unsettled? Well, have you made up?”

  “Yes,” Leighton said, looking back at Maddie. “Unless I manage to blunder again.”

  “To prevent that, we would have to keep you locked in a cabinet until the wedding day,” Lucy said. After her parting shot, her tiny feet pounded back up the stairs. Leighton hugged Maddie and kissed her. His kiss was different now. It had more than the eager passion of a young man trying to woo. It now held the tenderness of a man who wanted a lifetime with her. She knew now, since they had survived this crisis, nothing but death could part them again.

  * * * * *

  Leighton was not reassured to discover that his father had ridden to Bristol that day. If one were making arrangements for ships or paying for those arrangements, Bristol would be the place to go. Through Raymond, the footman at Prad’s, he also discovered that Dr. Murray had moved into the hotel the same day he had and had specifically asked for a room next to his.

  And Raymond was thinking of getting married himself, since he’d had a sudden influx of guineas from Leighton. Wonderful.

  Tibbs was back to his usual acerbic self, asking how many times a week he was going to have to press and mend Leighton’s evening suit. He sent him off with the warning not to go wall-crawling in his good shoes.

  Leighton arrived to find that Maddie had worked her magic. She had the servants bustling about with punch bowls and chairs. He decided he was underfoot and went out the back door to the stables to visit his horses, hoping he would not step in anything before the big moment.

  He’d ridden Chandros that morning without his ribs suffering and planned to take Jasper out tomorrow. When he walked back along the stalls, he found Gifford feeding bites of carrot to his Andalućian. It unnerved him.

  “Quite a horse. I thought surely he would die after plunging over that cliff.”

  “Frankly, so did I.” Leighton stroked the velvet muzzle and flattered himself that the horse preferred his attentions even though he didn’t have any carrots.

  “What do you want for him?”

  “I am afraid I cannot sell him. He was a gift from a friend. He would never understand if I did. Besides, Chandros is to be the sire for my brood mares. If you would like a colt out of him, there I can oblige you.”

  “I would have to wait four years,” Gifford complained.

  “Some of the best things in life are worth waiting for.”

  “I have been waiting for Lucy half my life.”

  “But she is only seventeen, not yet out.”

  “But I am eight and twenty. High time I settled down.”

  Leighton
was tempted to ask if it were not better to give Lucy a chance to chose for herself but he had a notion Gifford would not like to hear that. And he would trust Maddie had trained Lucy toward independence. One thing he could do was disarm the man. He obviously was trying to stake a claim. Leighton could truthfully say he wanted none.

  “My mother has been badgering me to marry these five years, hence my pursuit of the fair Maddie.”

  “Miss Westlake, a parson’s daughter? But they say you are an earl.”

  “But our attraction is of long standing and we mean to marry no matter how many rubs are thrown in our way.”

  “So it was the Westlake chit you were after all along.”

  “Why yes, what did you think?”

  “You know damned well what I thought.” Gifford stalked away. Leighton finally reached into his pocket for the lumps of sugar he had brought from the hotel. While he was talking to the horses, a small lad tugged at his coattail and handed him a letter. It had no salutation, so he asked the boy who it was from.

  “I dunno, sir. The servant just said to find Mr. Stone, that he’d be at Marsden House tonight, said the butler would take it to him. Piece of luck you being in the stables.”

  The child had made his own luck, knowing Mr. Stone would give him more largesse than a butler. Leighton put a coin into the boy’s hand and watched him run off, then cracked the seal on the note.

  Leighton groaned. It was in code. He stared at the brief score of music and started deciphering based on Maddie’s decoding. It took him some minutes to substitute for each character and then order them in his mind.

  Meeting arranged for courtyard at midnight. And that was all there was.

  The message had the same feeling as the other one but no scent of tobacco, so it definitely had not passed through his father’s hands. Someone had gotten the wrong Stone this time. He folded the note and shoved it and the envelope into his pocket.