“I don't remember a scene in which Juliet told Romeo he was peculiar,” Julian said with a chuckle.
“Are you sure? I am certain it was in there somewhere... right after, my ears have yet not drunk a hundred words... thou midnight visit art peculiar, sweet Romeo.”
“You say that with such conviction, you almost have me convinced that line is from Shakespeare's play!” From the pocket of his greatcoat, Julian pulled a single flower: a pink tulip. As he held it toward the moonlight, he wondered if Molly could see what he was holding. “Are you prepared for the next scene?”
“And what scene might that be?” When Molly touched her cheek again, she was not surprised to discover it was burning hot. Julian's visit had set her cheeks aflame.
“With love's light wings, I will henceforth scales these walls,” Julian said. Shakespeare's exact words eluded him, but he tried to quote them to the best of his ability. “For stony limits cannot hold out love.”
“You are going to climb the wall, Mr. Crawford?!” Molly peered down the length of the brick wall. “There is nothing to hold onto!”
“Well... more specifically, I am going to attempt to climb this tree.” With a grin on his lips, Julian patted the tree's rough trunk. “Shall I proceed?”
“No! Julian, are you mad?! You are going to get yourself killed!”
“I think Juliet said something similar to that, but that didn't stop Romeo!” Julian shoved the flower between his teeth and grabbed a nearby branch. As he pulled himself up, he was happy that the tree could hold his weight.
“Julian, you should stop this nonsense! Honestly!” Molly was tempted to close the window and shut him out.
“Zheesh tree ish noshing.” The flower in his mouth was slurring his speech.
“What, Julian?! What did you say?! I can't understand you!”
Julian scaled the tree with impressive vigor, like a man half his age. When he was eye level with Molly, he stopped climbing. He yanked the tulip from his teeth and held it out to her. “For you, fair damsel.”
“Thank you, Mr. Crawford.” Molly accepted the flower and held it to her nose, inhaling its sweet scent. “Tonight was unexpected, to be sure... but I enjoyed our encounter.”
“I adore you, Molly Moseley.” Suddenly, he sounded very serious. “I do. I adore you. I would wilt without you.”
“Surely you exaggerate!” Molly exclaimed. “I cannot imagine I would have such an effect on you.”
“You do,” he insisted. “I think of you day and night. Your gentle brown eyes... they haunt me in my dreams.”
“If they haunt you, they don't sound particularly gentle,” Molly teased him.
“Nay, but your eyes are the gentlest eyes in all the world. If I could reach you, I would take your hand and hold it against my lips. And I would do it over and over again, because the merest touch of your skin is a feast for my heart. I always want to make you happy, because your smiles are sustenance for my soul. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
“That almost sounded like Shakespeare.”
“Didn't it, though?” His eyes held a mischievous twinkle.
“You surprise me, Mr. Crawford.” She nervously tapped Julian's tulip against her chin. “You always surprise me.”
“I want to be a better man... for you,” Julian said, “because you deserve nothing less than the passion and romance you seek.”
“This was certainly very romantic of you.” As she spoke, she twirled the tulip's stem between her fingers. “I wish I could preserve this flower's beauty forever, so I would always be reminded of this night.”
“I hope my passion does not affright thee,” Julian said, chuckling at his shoddy attempt at Shakespeare's language.
“Of course not! For what reason would I be... affrighted?” Molly laughed. “I have enjoyed every moment of your visit. I am sure I will mention it in my letter.”
Julian started to lose his footing, so he moved halfway down the tree. When his feet were safety perched, he asked, “What letter, Molly?”
“My letter to Madeline. I always write letters to Madeline,” Molly said. “They are near and dear to my heart.”
Julian scratched his chin, which was coarse from having not been shaved in several days. “And who, might I ask, is Madeline?”
“Someday, I might tell you her identity. For now, I bid you good night. I will see you on the morrow.” Before closing the window, she added, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”
Chapter Fourteen
Molly's fingers floated across the ivory keys with masterful ease. She closed her eyes and played from memory, letting the music flow through her. The doleful melody made her tingle from the base of her spine to the top of her head. Everyone in the room was spellbound.
When she finished her piece, Molly rose from the pianoforte and curtsied. The thunderous applause that followed her performance stretched her smile from ear to ear. She forfeited the pianoforte to a trembling young pianist with auburn hair. After listening to Molly, the poor girl knew she had a tough act to follow.
Molly sat between Mr. Crawford and Agatha. Molly's grandmother must have thought the musicale was a decent time to catch a nap; unfortunately, she missed most of Molly's performance. When she saw her grandmother's closed eyes and gaping mouth, Molly heaved a sigh.
“Is she sleeping?!” Molly whispered to Julian.
“So it would seem,” Julian replied. “But you should not be offended. Your music was so beautiful, perhaps it lulled her to sleep?”
“Perhaps.”
“You play wonderfully, by the way.” As he whispered words of praise, Julian's dark eyes were fastened on hers. “That was such a complicated piece, and yet you did not miss a single note.”
“Do you play, Mr. Crawford?”
“Unfortunately, I have no musical talent whatsoever. I might be able to rub a few sour notes on a violin. Apart from that, I am utterly hopeless.”
Molly did not know how to respond, so she simply smiled. It had been two days since their spontaneous rendition of Romeo and Juliet, but it still weighed heavily on her mind. She had let her guard down that night, so much so that she swore they had a breakthrough. Unfortunately, they had gone back to being very formal with one another.
“How often to you play?” Julian whispered.
“As often as I can, but not often enough.”
Leaning toward her ear, he said, “Well, you had me captivated. You had all of us captivated.”
A moment later, the auburn-haired girl finished her piece and hurried away from the pianoforte. Lady Harleigh, the hostess of the musicale, decided it was a decent time for a break. Her servants entered with silver trays of assorted refreshments, onto which the crowd eagerly descended.
“Should I let my grandmother sleep? I am sure she would like a biscuit, but it seems a pity to wake her.”
“Let her sleep,” Julian advised, then he offered an elbow to the woman at his side. “Would you care to take a turn around the room with me?”
“No.” The answer flew out of Molly's mouth without a second thought. “That is to say, I... well... I was hoping that I could speak to you. Alone.”
“Very well. Should we go out to the garden?” Julian suggested. “I saw a few others slip out to the terrace not long ago, so we would not truly be alone.”
“For propriety's sake, I am sure that is for the best.” Molly finally accepted Julian's arm and followed him out of the assembly room. As soon as they were outside, she was tackled by an abrasive gust of wind, which nearly knocked her off her feet. She tightened her shawl around her shoulders as he led her further out.
“You wanted to speak with me?” Julian reminded her.
“Oh... yes. Indeed. Of course.”
“You seem hesitant,” he observed. “Might this have something to do with Lord Rocksavage?”
“What? No!” Molly gasped. “I... I have not thought of him in quite some time.” And it was true. It had been at least a few days since she had spared a thou
ght for the man who once consumed her thoughts. “Was he at the musicale?”
“He was,” Julian said. “He was a few rows behind us, with my niece and her mother.”
“I... see. I am surprised I did not notice.” Molly took a deep breath. When she expelled the breath, a white gust swirled around her lips. “It is... cold,” she noted.
“It is. Should we go inside? I would not want you to get ill.”
“I am fine. No, it is better to talk out here. I...” Her voice trailed off for several seconds. How much did she want to share with him? She trusted Julian, but there was so much she did not know about him. Despite her affection for him, he was practically a stranger. “I want to share something with you, Julian. It is something I have never shared with another soul. But... I am afraid to tell you, because I am afraid you might think I'm mad.”
“I am sure I would never think that,” Julian assured her. “You are a kind, clever, intelligent woman. I am incapable of thinking a bad thought about you.”
“So you say...” Molly sighed. “Nevertheless, I am hesitant. This is... my heart's greatest burden. I would not even share it with Lord Rocksavage for fear that he would tease me.”
Julian wanted to wrap an arm around her shoulders, to give her reassurance, but he feared the gesture would be too intimate. “You may share anything with me, Miss Moseley.”
“Anything? Oh... um..” Molly took a moment to chew on her bottom lip. “The other day, I mentioned someone named Madeline.”
“Ah, yes. Madeline!” Julian exclaimed. “The mysterious recipient of your letter. Are you going to tell me who she is?”
“Well...” Molly looked down at her hands, which were fidgeting beneath her shawl. “I have a sister.”
“A sister. I see. And her name is Madeline?”
“Yes.” Molly nodded. “Yes, my sister's name is Madeline.”
“That does not seem like a particularly big secret,” Julian said. “Although, if you have a sister, I would certainly like to meet her.”
“I am afraid that might be... impossible.” Molly lowered her gaze to the ground. She kept her eyes on her feet and wriggled her toes in her slippers. “Madeline was a few years older than I was. We were always very close... extremely close. We were as close as two sisters could possibly be. We were always together, always sharing in each others' joy. Madeline would always tell me stories... grand tales of romance and adventure. She was the best friend I could have asked for. She was the best friend anyone could have asked for.”
“And yet, you are referring to her in the past tense,” Julian noted. “Did something happen to her?”
“Yes...” Molly heaved a sigh. “When I was seventeen, Madeline was in Yorkshire visiting a friend, and I had fallen quite ill. My mother feared the worst, so she sent Madeline a letter about my condition. Unfortunately, the letter was ill-timed. Madeline had to travel back to Norfolk in a snowstorm, and her carriage toppled from a steep hill. She was unconscious for several days until she finally... passed away.”
“I see.” Julian's lower lip sagged as he listened to her recount the story. “I am sorry to hear that. She must have meant a lot to you.”
“Madeline was like my shadow... or, more specifically, I was her shadow. She was the leader and I was the follower. For many years, we were inseparable.” There were tears in Molly's eyes, gleaming behind her spectacles. Julian whipped a handkerchief from the pocket of his greatcoat and handed it to her, so Molly removed her spectacles and dabbed her eyes. “To be honest, I never recovered from the loss.”
“I know what it is like to lose someone you love. My parents... my younger brother. Coping with the loss of a loved one is the most difficult part of life.”
“True.” A single tear fell from Molly's eye. “As for Madeline, I cope with her loss in a way that might seem a bit... peculiar to some.”
Julian finished her thought. “You write letters to your deceased sister?”
“Yes.” For a few seconds, Molly held her gloved hand against her nose, which was turning pink from the tears and cold. “I write letters to Madeline as if she were still alive. I tell her everything that happens. Do you think that is strange?”
“Not at all.” Julian brushed a thumb across Molly's cheek, across the trail where her tear had fallen. “Not in the least.”
“Naturally, I had to tell her about you.”
“Oh? And what would be your sister's opinion of me?”
“I am sure Madeline would love you.”
“More importantly...” Julian went on. “What is your opinion of me?”
Before Molly could give him an answer, she was silenced by the sound of feet shuffling through the grass. When she glanced over her shoulder, she realized they were not alone.
Lord Rocksavage was standing behind her.
* * *
As Lord Rocksavage listened to Molly's music, he was more transfixed than he had ever been. He had heard her play at least a dozen times, but he never felt like this before. It was as if every note was seeping into his veins, holding him in rapture.
Molly Moseley was a mesmerizing woman.
“Music can be so dashed boring,” whined Miss Crawford, who was sitting at his left. “How much longer is it going to go on?”
Lord Rocksavage did not hear a word she said, because he was too busy listening to Molly's music.
“Should I sing, my lord?” Miss Crawford asked. “Mama says I have an angel's voice. Ah, but she is exaggerating, of course...”
“Hm?” he murmured. Molly—his Molly—rose from the pianoforte and curtsied, then she went back to her grandmother and Julian Crawford.
Julian Crawford. That man was always forcing his company on Molly, whether she wanted it or not. Iris' uncle was such a persistent suitor, even Lord Rocksavage found him to be an annoyance. Surely Molly wasn't interested in the old fellow? As far as Daniel could tell, Molly's suitor had nothing to offer her.
“Molly deserves better...” Lord Rocksavage whispered to himself.
“Pardon, my lord?”
He did not realize he had spoken loudly enough for Miss Crawford to hear him. “Nothing, Miss Crawford. I said nothing.”
“So, you were babbling random nonsense? You don't seem the type.” Iris flashed a precious pout. “Did you hear my question, by any chance? Do you think I should sing?”
“This is a musicale. I am sure everyone would love to hear you.” Daniel kept his eyes on Molly the entire time, but she did not spare a glance in his direction. Not even once. Her eyes used to follow him around the room; now she completely disregarded him. That painful fact made him feel as if his heart was bleeding.
“Then it's settled! I will sing!” Iris vowed. “And when I do, I will imagine that I am singing just for you, my lord!”
“That is... too kind.” Lord Rocksavage was more distracted than ever, because Molly and Julian and risen from their seats and were heading for the door. “Where are they going?” he said aloud.
“Who are you talking about?” Miss Crawford squawked.
“Your uncle and Miss Moseley... where are they going?!”
“Outside, I would assume.” Miss Crawford rolled her eyes at her beau's question. “Why is it any concern of yours?”
Before Miss Crawford could protest, Lord Rocksavage leapt from his chair and hurried out to the garden. It took him a moment to locate them because they were half-hidden behind one of the hedges.
“Oh? And what would be your sister's opinion of me?”
“I am sure Madeline would love you.”
“More importantly... what is your opinion of me?”
“Ahem.” Lord Rocksavage stepped forward, unabashedly interrupting them. When Molly saw him, she tightened her lips and squared her shoulders. “What, might I ask, is going on?”
“The lady and I were having a discussion,” Julian said, “a very important discussion, which you have unfortunately interrupted.”
“My apologies,” Daniel said. “However, Molly, I am
not sure you should be alone in the garden with a gentleman.”
“But we are hardly alone!” Molly defended herself. She flicked a hand in the direction of another couple, who were walking arm-in-arm along a distant cobbled path.
“Nevertheless, your companion should have more regard for your reputation.” Without a word, Daniel took Molly by the arm and led her away from Mr. Crawford, giving him the cut direct. “Come with me. Please.”
“What?! Daniel, you cannot just whisk me away like this! I did not have a chance to tell Mr. Crawford that I--”
“Molly,” Daniel interrupted, “Molly, I need to speak with you. It is a matter of great urgency.”
Molly glanced over her shoulder at Mr. Crawford, who was still standing behind the hedge, looking a bit stunned. Daniel led her to an ornate wooden trellis, which was overrun by thick vines and dappled wildflowers. The honeyed scent of the flowers made her skin prickle with delight.
“Molly...” He gently took her hands in his.
“This sounds serious, Daniel.” Molly's lips trembled as she tried to discern the expression on his face. “Is something wrong? Did something happen to you?”
“I need you to listen, and listen well, because I am about to pour out my heart to you,” Daniel began. “If you can manage it, say nothing until I am done. And whatever you do... please... do not laugh at me. It would break my heart.”
“Very well.” Molly could feel her throat constricting as she listened to Daniel's instructions. “What do you need to tell me?”
“Molly... I love you.” When the first words were out of his mouth, his shoulders relaxed. “I have always loved you, Molly Moseley, and no other. You have imprinted yourself on the deepest part of my heart, so much so that no other could ever reside there. When I see you with Julian Crawford, my heart aches... because I don't want you to be with another living soul. You should be with me. Me, and no other. We belong together.”
Molly could hear her ears buzzing. She lightly pinched herself beneath her shawl, because she was sure she must have been dreaming. After all, she had dreamt of this moment so many times.
Miss Moseley the Matchmaker Page 8