by Jane Charles
Lady Henrietta looked from Lady Jillian, to Lady Penelope and then Lady Patience. “It might be more difficult for the three of you, but we haven’t been met yet. Mother assures me that the gentlemen will not be able to resist me.”
“Or me,” Lady Katherine added.
“Mother assures me that gentlemen will be lining up to write their names on my dance card and beg me to walk with them in Hyde Park,” added Lady June.
“You might as well put yourself on a shelf,” Lady Henrietta said to Lady Jillian with cool disdain.
Instead of being insulted, Lady Jillian simply smiled and slid a look to Felding’s younger sisters.
From what he’d observed, the three of them were not friends, but he suspected this was one topic in which they were united.
“Observe,” she said coming forward. “I shall take your place, Lady June.”
Lady June glanced up to Mark, but finally took a step back. Lady Jillian replaced her. “Please play too slow, Miss Valentine.”
“Slow?” Bianca questioned.
“Yes, please.”
Bianca frowned, but did begin to play the waltz as Mark and Lady Jillian began to dance.
“Now, please bring the song to the proper tempo,” Lady Jillian called.
Bianca did and Lady Jillian did not miss a step, nor did Mark.
“Faster please.”
Their steps increased, and still, neither of them suffered a misstep.
The rest simply watched until they came to a stop beside the piano. “As you can see, the tempo of a song does not matter if you know how to waltz.”
“I am used to far superior accompanists,” Lady Katherine argued.
Lady Jillian lifted a brow. “Truly? I’d like to meet this person as there is only one person who might exceed Miss Valentine’s ability, and she does not act as an accompanist. In fact, few have heard her play and I doubt you ever will.” She smiled sweetly.
“Who?” Lady June smirked.
“Lady Sandlin, of course,” Lady Jillian answered. “And, if I’m not mistaken, Lady Felding is nearly as talented as her sister.”
Ladies Penelope and Patience straightened in surprise.
Lady Henrietta crossed the room and retrieved her pelisse. “I don’t see how any of this matters. The Season will begin and we will be a success. Neither Miss Valentine nor Mr. East hardly matter to our success. It’s not as though they matter at all.”
“Ladies, one question before you go.”
The three turned to look at Lady Jillian.
“Is this how you treat everyone you feel is beneath you?”
The three laughed quietly. “They are servants, certainly you, of all people understand.”
“I understand superiority based upon one’s rank. I understand holding myself above others, such as you three.”
Mark bit back a smile.
“I know my worth which is why I haven’t settled. And, if you treat everyone with the same contempt that I’ve witnessed, I suggest you find a shelf and settle yourself upon it right now because no gentleman will tolerate any of you.”
All three of the young ladies’ mouths popped open in shock.
“There is a difference between holding yourself out to be respected and that of belittling others because they are beneath you.”
Ladies Patience and Penelope, as well as Bianca’s faces mirrored the shock of the other three debutantes.
Lady Jillian took another step forward. “In fact, I’d be willing to wager that the reason your mothers cannot find good help is because of the way your servants are treated.” She stopped before them. “Keep one thing in mind. Those you believe are beneath you, that you treat so poorly, are the same people cooking your meals.” She turned her back on them and strolled toward the piano. “I’d think twice about eating anything placed before me for fear of what else might be hidden within the required ingredients.”
Lady Jillian wheeled around and pinned them with a look. Her back straight and chin high. “There is an art to being me, and you three don’t even come close.”
* * *
The three most unpleasant debutantes of all the students exited, murmuring between them. Mr. East followed them out into the corridor. Bianca couldn’t hear what he was saying but she hoped he wasn’t begging them to remain or return for their next lesson.
Ladies Penelope and Patience gathered their belongings.
“Might I have a word, Lady Jillian?”
Lady Jillian narrowed her eyes, but came towards the piano. “Yes.”
“Why did you defend me?” Of all people to come to her defense, Lady Jillian was the last person she expected.
“I might deny any relation, but I will not stand by while others belittle you. The world may not know we are related, but you are still family, and they angered me.”
Bianca simply nodded and tried not to smile. How often had she complained about one of her siblings, but if someone else ever spoke unkindly, it was an entirely different matter.
Perhaps Lady Jillian had a heart after all.
“Of course, if you ever breathe word of our relation, I will deny it.”
“I would never dream of telling anyone.”
Lady Jillian relaxed. “It’s a shame, you know.”
“What?”
“That your mother ended up as she did. Otherwise, we might have known each other as children, and I rather like you.”
With that, Lady Jillian picked up her reticule and marched out of the dance studio and all Bianca could do was stare after her.
“Did Lady Jillian just say what I thought she did?” Lady Penelope asked.
“Yes. Rather odd.”
“Or she’s managed to gain a soul,” Lady Patience added.
Chapter 9
“I am afraid there is nothing further I can teach you, Lady Jillian.” He’d only given her one more lesson after the unpleasant debutantes advised him that they were no longer in need of his services.
Lady Jillian’s lips quirked. “I told Mother this was a waste of time, but thank you for your time, Mr. East.” With a confident smile she marched from the room, but not before sending a superior look to Miss Valentine.
Odd, it was as though she didn’t like Miss Valentine for some reason, though Mark couldn’t imagine anyone not liking his pianist.
“That is the twentieth lady you’ve dismissed this week,” Miss Valentine observed as she gathered her music together. “Soon, you will have no students.”
Was she worried about her position? “There are plenty remaining that will require my instruction up until the very first ball. My toes can attest to that.” Some he would continue to instruct even though he had no interest in them, simply because they needed his assistance.
Mark walked to the piano and leaned on it. “There were far more than I could take on anyway, so it benefits everyone if I dismiss those who don’t really need lessons.”
“How many remain?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Are you coming, Bianca?” Patience called, coming back into the room. She and Penelope had also been told that they no longer needed any further lessons.
“I have need for Miss Valentine,” he called. “I’ll see that she is delivered home.”
Miss Valentine’s eyes widened in surprise.
“We’ve music and schedules to discuss.”
“I’ll be along later, Patience,” Miss Valentine assured her. “Go on.”
With a shrug, Lady Patience quit the room, leaving them very much alone.
“What did you wish to discuss with me, Mr. East.”
“Why haven’t you played any of your compositions?”
“It is important that your students dance to the music they will hear in the ballrooms, not something unfamiliar.”
He supposed she did have a point. “Yet, I miss your music.”
Her cheeks turned nearly as pink as the hibiscus growing outside of his home in Barbados. “Thank you.”
For a week he’d been
teaching the students for hours on end while Miss Valentine played, rarely looking up from her music, though he suspected much of what she played was memorized. It was as if she weren’t part of the lessons. In truth she wasn’t, but she remained quiet, never spoke a word and kept her head down, much like a well-trained servant in a household with an overbearing lord.
He didn’t like it. Not one bit. Further, though she played all the pieces with emotion, they weren’t nearly as beautiful as her own pieces and he missed hearing them.
While he didn’t need to be distracted by her as he came to know his students, he was anyway. Constantly aware that she was near, seated and playing. It was Miss Valentine he wished to come to know, to dance with, to kiss, and because of this unwavering interest and attraction, he’d given her name to his investigator, along with a dozen or so other potential wives. He may have thought at one time that he needed to marry someone of the peerage, but was it truly necessary? Miss Valentine may be common, but her father had been a missionary and her uncle was a vicar. Both were respectable professions, and Mark would much rather be happy with a wife, than be miserable married to a woman with lofty connections.
Still, it was much too soon to be deciding on any one woman. He’d only been at this little longer than a week, yet it didn’t mean he didn’t wish to know Miss Valentine better.
“I’d like to hear more of your compositions.” As well as taste her lips.
“You are being kind.”
“There is nothing kind about my request, Miss Valentine. There is something about your music that touches my soul.”
Bloody hell, he was not a poetic dandy, but that’s exactly how he just sounded. Yet, he spoke the truth. Her compositions were a balm to the restlessness he’d suffered since he stepped off of that damn ship.
“Very well.” Her blush deepened, but she placed her fingers against the keys and began to play a haunting melody. One that stirred something deep within him. A longing. A need. Pulling at him. A song of sadness or pain. Or, was it simply want? Of reaching for something beyond his grasp. Unable to attain what he yearned for.
The song came to an end and he sighed, suddenly off center when he’d been well in control of his emotions and place in society, until now. What was it that Miss Valentine wanted that made her create such a song?
“That was lovely, and sad.”
“I did not mean to make you sad.” She gathered her music together. “It’s for waiting for someone to come home.”
“Your brother?” he asked, though he shouldn’t have.
She nodded. “Yes. It was written right after he joined the Foot Guards.”
“The two of you were close?”
“I was closer to Bertram than the others, but I’m sure they feel the loss as much as I.”
He’d never been close to any of his family, other than his sisters. It had troubled him when they traveled to London so they could make their entrance into Society under the guidance of his aunt and uncle. And even though he’d known they were going to catch a husband, he’d also fully expected them to return home to Barbados. They never did. He’d missed them, but they wrote often and were happy. In the end that was all that mattered.
“Would you care to walk with me, Miss Valentine?”
“I really should be getting home.”
“I promised your sister-in-law that I’d see you home.” He was not ready to be parted from her yet. Especially with the way her music had left him feeling.
“That isn’t necessary.” She continued out of the room and took her pelisse from a peg on the wall. “Besides, I need to stop by the lending library.”
Mark took her pelisse and helped her slip her arms inside before he grabbed his own coat from a peg. “Are you looking for anything in particular or do you just wish to have something to read for enjoyment?”
Miss Valentine stopped at a small desk where a very large man sat to inform him that they were done for the day. Mark had come to realize that there was always a rather large servant in the building, day or night.
He held the door so Miss Valentine could step out.
“I’m looking for books on stringed instruments and their music.”
This intrigued him. “Are you going to take up a new instrument?” He offered his elbow and she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. Though layers of clothing and her glove separated their skin, he was certain he could still feel her warmth and his disturbed emotions from her music calmed.
“I’ve only written music for the piano, because it’s what I hear in my head.” Her cheeks pinkened once again. “I know it must sound silly to you, but that is how I write. What my mind hears.”
“It doesn’t sound silly at all.” Though he’d never written anything in his life, how else would a composer come up with a song if they first didn’t hear it in their head?
“Recently, I’ve heard stringed instruments as well.” She chuckled and shook her head. “That’s never happened, but now that it has, I must learn how to write music for those instruments.”
“Shouldn’t you also know how to play it, so you can hear how it sounds?”
Miss Valentine frowned and looked up at him. “I suppose you are correct. When I hear the piano, I then play it before putting the notes on paper. That doesn’t mean it would work the same for a violin. Especially since I don’t know the notes as of yet, or how to play them.”
He grinned down at her. “Then it is a good thing I learned the violin many years ago.”
Miss Valentine chuckled but waved her hand. “That isn’t necessary Mr. East. I’m sure you are far too busy to assist me.”
He stopped in the middle of the walk and turned her to. “Actually, it would be my great pleasure to be of assistance.”
* * *
She’d wished for distance between them, though it was impossible when she was with Mr. East nearly every day. Now, he wished to help her with her music.
“Impossible,” she blurted out as panic rose within.
“Pardon?” He looked at her rather oddly.
“As I said, it will take up too much of your time.”
“Other than the hours I teach, I have nothing else pressing.”
“What of friends?” She couldn’t spend the hours with him that were required to compose a piece of music, especially when she was as unfamiliar with the instrument such as a violin. She hadn’t forgotten that he nearly kissed her and she wished that he had. To the bottom of her heart she wished she knew what his kisses were like. But that didn’t mean she should allow herself to be in the position to receive one again.
It was bad enough having to watch him dance with so many beautiful ladies. Not that anything would develop into a courtship between a dancing master and his students, but Bianca still didn’t like seeing it. And she’d avoided being alone with him with the exception of a few moments before his first students arrived and then when the last of them left.
Being attracted to this man was a distraction she didn’t need, and that attraction would only grow if they spent more time together.
“I don’t see how it’s possible. Where would we work?” There was a logical reason why this could not be.
“There’s a piano in the home I rent.”
She eyed him askance. “I cannot go to bachelor lodgings.” Was that what he was about? To get her alone? That would be far more dangerous than a near kiss in a dance studio.
“I suppose you’re correct.” He cleared his throat. “We could stay after lessons, and work at the school.”
“Lady Acker may not approve.”
“The reason there is a guard or two there at all times is because some of her students come in at odd times to practice. Many of them do not have room in their homes and have limited time during the day.”
“He is there for the students. We are employees.” Bianca turned and continued down the walk.
“We could ask,” Mr. East suggested.
“You can ask,” she replied. “I’m not about to risk my
employment for my own enjoyment.”
“It will be done,” he announced, and she snuck a look at Mr. East who was now grinning. Her stomach knotted. What had she just agreed to?
They came to the lending library and he began assisting her in finding the correct books for learning music for stringed instruments. All the while he stood close to Bianca, reading over her shoulder as she took books from the shelves and opened them. His chest was practically touching her back and Bianca could barely concentrate because of the nearness of him. Tall, strong and protective. Not that she needed anyone to protect her, but she rather enjoyed the feeling of Mr. East so near.
He reached around her, his long fingers tracing the words on the page and instead of hearing what he said, she wondered how they would feel caressing her cheek or arm.
Her entire body heated as her dress tightened. Goodness, it was growing warm in there. She might grow faint if they didn’t step outside soon.
Mr. East took the book from her and placed it on a shelf, then ran his finger along the spines, reading titles, until he took another from the shelf, handing it to her as he leaned in, closer than necessary. “This might be exactly what you’re looking for.”
The low timber of his voice sent shivers skirting down her spine, not that they cooled her in any manner.
Bianca took the book and opened it, not that she could read any of the words. Well, she was reading them, but she couldn’t comprehend them. The words just words ran together in a jumble because it was impossible to concentrate on anything with Mr. East leaning over her.
“Yes, this is it.” He took the book from her hands.
She would have to trust his words because for all she knew, she’d been reading a horror novel and not a book on music. Bianca needed to be away from him before she lost all sense. She turned and took the book and then took a few steps back, putting distance between them. “Thank you.”
He simply stood there a slight smile, one corner of his mouth turned up and his brown eyes were dark and intense. They nearly stole her breath.
“Well, I’ll take this to the front.” She forced a smile to her face and retreated as quickly as she could. He followed at a slower pace, like a lion stalking his prey. That didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the fact that she wouldn’t mind being caught.