‘All superior, and they so young? Amazing,’ he said. Though Lady Arlsley seemed not to notice the irony in his tone, Marcella had to choke back a laugh. ‘I understand this set has just concluded. Might I escort you ladies for some refreshment?’
‘A friend has just arrived with whom I must speak before the next set begins,’ Lady Arlsley replied. ‘But I’m sure Miss Cranmore would enjoy partaking of the repast Lady Dellaney set out.’
Marcella shook her head at Dellamont as she took his arm, trying to ignore the little shiver that went through her at his touch. ‘My charming sponsor. As lacking in subtlety as ever.’
‘Now, now. She probably does have a friend just arrived with whom she wishes to speak.’
‘Doubtless on a matter of such urgency, it could not wait for a glass of punch. But she’d probably go speak with the potted fern in the corner if it meant she could send me off with you. And you shouldn’t disparage tonight’s performances. They have been so surprisingly good, I’m quite impressed. Obviously some aristocratic maidens practise much harder than the students at Miss Axminster’s did.’
‘Or more likely, only those who have achieved a reasonable level of skill are permitted by their mamas to perform in society. So, are you going to favour the company with a selection?’
‘In the next set,’ Marcella replied with a nod.
‘We’d better make sure you are well refreshed, then.’ They stopped by the table in the dining room, which was set with a variety of dishes. ‘Would you like a glass of wine? A plateful of the assorted offerings?’
‘Nothing to eat, thank you. We dined before we came. But a glass of wine would be welcome.’
‘I see Hoddleston is here tonight,’ Dellamont said as he handed her a glass. ‘He hasn’t been bothering you, has he?’
‘No—not yet, at any rate. He stopped by to greet us after he arrived, but as I’d made sure there were no vacant seats near us, I was spared making further conversation.’
Marcella debated relating Hoddleston’s parting remark, but decided against it. Though she appreciated Dellamont’s offer to watch over her, she needed to be able to take care of herself. He was unlikely to be present every time the Baron found an opportunity to approach her. And it was her challenge to master anyway.
‘No Lord Charles?’
Marcella laughed. ‘He called this afternoon and enquired which event we’d be attending tonight. Upon learning it would be a musicale, he positively blanched. Then apologised for not being able to bear attending, years of being forced to listen to the “screeching sopranos and out-of-tune melodies of his sisters” having given him a permanent distaste of musical evenings. He promised to meet me at the next ball we attend.’
‘With your common love of riding, I’m surprised he hasn’t asked to accompany you to the park.’
She hesitated, but she might as well tell him. ‘He has, actually. But mindful of your warning, I turned him down. If he is becoming enamoured, it wouldn’t do to indulge in an activity that would likely feed his infatuation.’ She chuckled. ‘I told him that I am promised to ride with a lady friend each morning, which is our only time to put our heads together for a good gossip, and I was sure he wouldn’t want to listen in. The prospect made him almost as pale as the idea of listening to a screeching soprano.’
Dellamont chuckled as well. ‘I suppose you can be pardoned your little white lie in a good cause.’
‘It wasn’t exactly a lie. I have met your sister each morning, not by design. But not entirely by chance, either, I don’t think. I believe she’s been lying in wait for me, eager to pepper me with questions about the events I attend, what the ladies and gentlemen are wearing, what they talk about, whether I find the entertainments interesting. Knowing I will tell her the unvarnished truth, as she suspects her acquaintances do not. But I do enjoy her company. One never knows what she will say!’
‘She’s outrageous, for certain,’ Dellamont said with a sigh. ‘I pity her eventual husband.’
‘I only hope she is able to marry a man who will appreciate her. I shall enjoy her company while I can. She seems so enthusiastic about the prospect of our marrying, I will have to jilt you, else she will be furious with you. Although she will then be furious with me for slighting her beloved brother.’
‘Don’t worry about her sending her maid to poison your soup. I’ll placate her by telling her about our bargain—once it’s over. Since one can never know what she will say, I wouldn’t trust her not to natter on to someone about what a great joke we are playing on society if I were to tell her about it now.’
‘I hope she will be amused. I wouldn’t want her to think I didn’t like and highly esteem you.’
As she delivered that assessment, Marcella glanced up at Dellamont. His compelling dark eyes seem to draw her in, as if she’d moved physically closer. Planting her feet to resist that impulse, she felt a tingling awareness shiver over her skin.
How easy it would be to be drawn in! So easy, if this conversation were taking place in a secluded nook, rather than in the middle of a refreshment room full of people, to take that step closer. So hard to resist raising her lips for the kiss his molten gaze seemed to promise.
If they were to find themselves in that dark nook some time in future, dare she invite that kiss? In defiance of prudence and caution, she was becoming less and less sure she could end their bargain without having tasted the kiss she found herself craving more and more.
But if she wanted to salvage a friendship once their bargain was over, she couldn’t allow herself to stumble down that path.
Seeming as captivated as she was, for a long moment Dellamont simply gazed at her. Then he abruptly stepped away, turning towards the table and seizing a plate. ‘I’m pleased to know you esteem me, as I do you,’ he said, his tone light. ‘I shall sample a bit of this while you finish your wine. Which you should do rather quickly. The guests are beginning to move back into the music room. Your time to shine approaches.’
She was glad that he’d defused the moment—before she let her unruly senses lead her any farther astray. Silently scolding herself for forgetting this was only a temporary bargain, she said tartly, ‘If I shine, it will be whispered that I perform like a hired musician—evidence of my inferior birth. If I stumble, heads will shake knowingly and observe how my inferior skill reflects my lack of breeding.’
Dellamont shook his head. ‘You truly are a cynic! So what’s it to be? Shine or stumble?’
‘Shine, for certain. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of performing badly.’ She chuckled. ‘Although those whose only interest is my dowry wouldn’t care if I lost the rhythm and played every note wrong.’
Putting down his plate and taking her empty glass, Dellamont said, ‘Then go show up the maidens of Miss Axminster’s.’
* * *
Half an hour later, after the guests had settled back in their chairs and one other young lady had performed a halting rendition of a Mozart concerto, Lady Arlsley rose to introduce Marcella as she walked to the pianoforte. She was arranging her music, running over the melody in her head, when a shadow fell over the keyboard.
‘That Beethoven is quite a complicated selection, Miss Cranmore,’ Lord Hoddleston said. ‘You must allow me to turn the pages for you.’
Instinctive dislike making it difficult for her to keep her tone cordial, she replied, ‘Kind of you to offer, but I’m quite accustomed to turning pages on my own. I would find it distracting to have someone hovering nearby.’
‘If I can distract you, all the better,’ he murmured, stepping close enough that his pant leg brushed her full sleeve.
Finding his proximity as distasteful as she’d anticipated, she repeated, ‘I really prefer to turn the pages myself. If you would move away, please, my lord?’
‘And if it doesn’t please me? If I prefer to see you...disturbed by my nearness?’
&nb
sp; Marcella hesitated, not sure how to proceed. Aggravated as she was by his persistence, unless she gritted her teeth and allowed Hoddleston to remain, she’d end up causing a scene, either by jumping up and abandoning the instrument, or by demanding that he retreat.
Before she could decide, she felt a touch on her other shoulder—and looked up to see Dellamont, smiling down at her. ‘Sorry I’m tardy, Miss Cranmore. A chatty acquaintance in the refreshment room detained me. But I’m very much looking forward to performing our duet.’
‘Duet?’ Hoddleston echoed, frowning. ‘Since when do you play, Dellamont?’
‘I’m a great lover of music—as all my friends know,’ he replied coolly. ‘If you would take a seat, Hoddleston, we need to prepare. The guests are waiting.’
For a moment, the Baron hesitated, as if ready to dispute further. Then, probably realising that doing so under the interested gaze of dozens of eyes would only make him look ridiculous, he gave Marcella a stiff bow. ‘You may have escaped for the moment, my dear,’ he said in her ear. ‘But I’ll be waiting.’
‘I shall never be his “dear”,’ she muttered as she slid over to make room for Dellamont on the piano bench. Not realising, until her anger faded, how difficult it was going to be to not become pleasurably distracted with the Viscount seated so close beside her on the small, narrow bench.
Heavens, she might well play all the notes wrong!
Trying to quell her nervousness, she murmured, ‘Thank you for the rescue. It was a rescue, wasn’t it?’
Dellamont nodded. ‘I saw Hoddleston approach and kept watch. Since it appeared you were trying to persuade him to depart without success, I decided to intervene.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I only hope you have something less complicated to play than the Beethoven, or I shall embarrass myself completely.’
She felt the hairs on her bare neck and shoulder quiver in the slight draught created as he took his seat and suppressed a sigh. He wasn’t the only one who needed to play a simple piece that demanded less skill and concentration.
Savouring the usually forbidden closeness, she said, ‘Do you sing?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Then how about “Robin Adair”? I have the music for that.’
Dellamont blew out a breath of relief. ‘Yes, I could manage that.’
Marcella pulled the music from the portfolio she’d brought and gave it to the Viscount, who arranged it on the holder. ‘Would you prefer to play the bass or treble clef?’ she asked.
‘It would be more manly to do the bass,’ he teased. ‘Then we’d not have to change places.’
She suppressed the naughty thought that if they did change sides, she might be able to slide even closer to him. Chiding herself to behave, she said, ‘Let’s play through one verse before we start singing. Tell me when you’re ready.’
He lifted his hands into position. ‘Any time now.’
After counting off two measures’ worth of beats, she nodded and they began.
It took them a few minutes to fully coordinate their fingering, but after that, they continued playing in perfect sync. Dellamont had a pleasant singing voice, a deep, rich baritone that matched well with her bright soprano. By the time they finished the song, Marcella was thoroughly enjoying herself.
‘Thank you!’ she said as they lifted their fingers from the keys to enthusiastic applause. ‘I don’t often get to play duets. That was delightful.’
Nodding towards the assembly, he said, ‘The audience seems to want an encore. If you have another selection you think I could play.’
‘I would love to! I’ve collected music for a great many airs, ballads and glees. My grandfather prefers them to the more complex works of the major composers.’ Spying one particular piece, she seized it with a grin. ‘In honour of our bargain, “No One Shall Govern Me” would be perfect, if we repeat only the first verse. Perhaps Hoddleston—and the assembled company—will take the hint.’
After scanning the lyrics, Dellamont laughed. ‘You’re right, it is perfect for us. I don’t know the tune, but the music looks simple enough. Hum it through for me once and I think I can manage.’
She sang through a verse softly, then said, ‘That’s the tempo. Let’s play through a verse first, like last time, and then sing the first verse three times.’
‘You don’t wish to sing all the verses?’
‘And reach the dreary conclusion that Laura becomes a sad old maid who wishes she’d allowed herself to be governed after all? Definitely not!’
He grinned. ‘I thought not. Very well, Miss Independent. Let’s confound the assembly.’ After assuming a playing position, he nodded.
They played through the music once, then began to sing.
When young and thoughtless
Laura said,
‘No one shall win my heart’;
But little dreamt the simple maid
Of love’s delusive art.
At ball or play
She’d flirt away
But always said
‘I’ll never wed,
No one shall govern me.
No, no, no, no, no, no,
No one shall govern me.’
By the time they’d sung the verse the third time, Dellamont was chuckling. Looking over at the audience, who after they finished wore faintly puzzled expressions as they clapped politely, Marcella had to choke down laughter of her own.
‘I only like the first verse,’ she told the assembly. ‘Thank you for your kindness. Now we must cede our place to another performer.’
They rose from the bench, Dellamont offering his arm as they walked away. ‘Having gone above and beyond your duty, you can return me to Lady Arlsley. Thank you again for the rescue—and a very enjoyable duet!’
‘You are very welcome. I enjoyed playing with you, too.’
Marcella was resigning herself to losing the pleasure of his conversation—and the delicious frisson of awareness of his nearness—but just before they reached where Lady Arlsley was sitting, he halted. ‘Hoddleston is still watching. Perhaps I should sit with you for a while to make sure you don’t need any further reinforcements.’
Marcella made a wry grimace. ‘From the thundering look he gave you when you forced him to walk away, you might be the one needing help.’
Dellamont laughed shortly. ‘Hoddleston is no match for me with fists or swords and he knows it. He’ll stay out of my way. I can assure you. But I’ll stay long enough to make sure he doesn’t try to take out his displeasure at being outmanoeuvred on you.’
‘Are you sure society won’t think I’ve enjoyed...too much of your company for one evening? I’d not have you being pressured by public opinion.’
‘You should know by now I’m never pressured by public opinion. If my father’s rants are unable to make me conform, the expectations of mere acquaintances are hardly likely to affect me.’
‘Very well. As long as you think it’s...safe.’
Whether it was safe for her might be a more pertinent question. It was all well and good to spend time with Prince Charming as long as one remembered one was living a fairy tale. Something that could become increasingly hard to keep in mind, if she spent too much time with him.
Soon she’d be returning to her own world—the world she preferred. Hopefully to entice a man she’d admired for half her life to make her his wife and sweep her into a future more rich and rewarding than anything the ton could ever offer.
Somehow, she was no longer quite so excited about the prospect.
‘How kind of you to play with Miss Cranmore, Lord Dellamont,’ Lady Arlsley said approvingly as they took seats adjacent to her. ‘And how well you play.’
‘You are too kind. But Miss Cranmore is a superior musician. Her talent made up for my lack.’
‘What a perfect couple you made, performing together! Ah—there’s my d
ear friend, Lady Collingwood, beckoning to me. I’ll just be a minute.’
‘If she is any more syrupy-sweet, I think I shall be ill,’ Marcella muttered as her sponsor walked across the room.
‘She does rather empty the butter boat.’
‘After pouring it over the sugar cone.’
Smiling, Dellamont said, ‘My compliment about your playing wasn’t empty praise. Even though the pieces we performed were simple, your technique is admirable. And just the fact that you would attempt the Beethoven leaves me in awe.’
‘I’ve had plenty of practice. Father always found music soothing. When he was devastated after my brother’s death, I began playing for him every night. Mama encouraged me, too, after she saw how much it seemed to help him relax.’
‘So you were a congenial family group, entertaining each other in the evening.’
She nodded. ‘Very. We still spend the evenings together, me playing while Father reads and Mother does her needlework. If Father brings home an associate who enjoys music, I’ll play for them, too. Did—does your family not gather together after dinner to play cards or read aloud?’
He laughed shortly. ‘When I was growing up, we children dined in the nursery. When I returned after being away at school and was considered old enough to have a place at the dinner table, a meal conducted mostly in silence was followed by my mother retreating to her rooms while I was either dismissed, or beckoned to Father’s study, if he wished to harangue me about some lapse while he drank his brandy.’
No wonder he had so little taste for family life, Marcella thought, grieved by all he had missed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘It...it shouldn’t be like that.’
‘From what the other boys said about their lives when we were at school, such an arrangement wasn’t that unusual. Except most of their families had more guests to dine with them. Montwell Glen is isolated enough that Papa generally goes to London when he wishes to consult friends or needs to attend the Lords. There are no families who live nearby of sufficient rank for him to consider them worthy of an invitation to an earl’s table.’
The Railway Countess Page 11