After cups had been filled and emptied, Lord Witlow said, ‘We don’t have any formal entertainment planned, but Maggie did promise to play for me. Normally after dinners in company, I’m stuck with a bunch of loquacious old politicians fighting some old election or arguing for a new.’ He gave Giles and the other Hellions an amused glance. ‘Listening to music is a treat I get too rarely.’
‘Yes, I did promise,’ Maggie said. ‘But though my fond papa enjoys my piano, I’m competent merely. If you gentlemen would rather seek more skilled entertainment, there’s still time to make the theatre or the opera—or your favourite gaming house.’
‘Or house of another sort,’ Lady Sayleford said with a pointed look at Ben.
‘Aunt Lilly!’ Maggie said with reproof. ‘In any event, we very much enjoyed having all of you to dinner, but you mustn’t feel obligated to remain.’
‘Not that I don’t appreciate your playing, my dear, but these old bones are longing for their sofa,’ Lady Sayleford said.
‘Ben and I arranged to meet some associates later. Political associates,’ Christopher emphasised, with a smile for the Dowager Countess.
‘Is that what they’re calling them now?’ she responded with a twinkle.
‘Off with all of you, before you put me to the blush,’ Maggie said.
‘If it won’t seem to be intruding, I should like to stay and listen,’ Faith said. ‘I’m no good at all, but my sisters used to play for us in the evening. It’s one of the things I missed so much after leaving my family,’ she concluded, her voice wistful.
‘We should be delighted to have you stay,’ Maggie said. ‘And Davie, if you like.’
‘You know how much I enjoy hearing you play.’ Although he’d stay for a caterwauling soprano, if Faith remained.
With expressions of thanks for the fine dinner and congenial company, Ben, Christopher, and the Dowager Countess took their leave. Lord Witlow, Maggie, Giles, Davie and Faith moved into Maggie’s private parlour, where a piano stood near the window. Lord Witlow chose a wing chair near the hearth, while, declining to sit beside Faith on the sofa, Davie angled a straight chair next to it. That put him close enough to feel her nearness, but saved him the torture of sitting next to her, knowing with one subtle movement in the candlelit dimness, he could slide his leg over to touch hers.
‘I’ll start with your favourite, Papa,’ Maggie said, and launched into Beethoven’s First Piano Concerto. With a little gasp, Faith leaned forward.
Before Davie could enquire what the matter was, she turned to him to whisper, ‘Lady Lyndlington was far too modest. How wonderfully she plays!’
‘She is very good, isn’t she?’ Davie agreed, delighted that the company he’d introduced her to was providing another unexpected treat.
* * *
For the next hour, while Lord Witlow tapped his toe in time to the music before eventually nodding off, Maggie played and Giles sat beside her on the bench, turning the pages for her. From time to time, Maggie looked over at her husband and they shared a smile; once, as she paused between one passage and the next, he whispered a ‘bravo’ and kissed her cheek.
As Faith became more immersed in the music, the tension Davie had noticed in her at dinner seemed to ease. Though he was relieved that the music’s magic had driven from her mind whatever was disturbing her, he still fretted over the cause. He would have to try again to get her to tell him.
With the tutor gone, was she having more problems with the Dowager, who didn’t approve her sending Carlisle away or spending so much time with her sons? As he speculated about what the problem might be, he heard the echo of Giles’s voice warning that Davie couldn’t solve Faith’s problems, that she and her family would direct her future.
Despite Giles’s well-meant advice, he didn’t seem able to keep himself from wanting to make everything smooth in her world. It might not be his responsibility or his privilege, but during the short time they had together, he would do what he could.
At that moment, Maggie paused again, the piano falling silent before she began the next movement. She looked over at Giles, who returned a glance so tender, Davie felt a stab of envy and longing. He gripped the arms of his chair to keep his hand from reaching out for Faith’s.
Just before the music began again, Faith sighed. To his infinite delight, in the dimness of the candlelight, while their host and hostess remained absorbed in the music and each other, and Maggie’s father dozed, she moved her hand from the arm of the couch and reached for his. Both of them still watching at the musicians, conscious of sharing a guilty pleasure, he let his hand slip from the chair’s arm and reached over to link his fingers with hers.
‘They look so happy,’ she whispered.
‘They are,’ he murmured. ‘Well suited, and perfectly attuned to one another.’
‘It must be wonderful, to be in a marriage like that.’
‘They are certainly a good advertisement for the wedded state.’
She nodded. ‘My sister and Englemere as well.’
‘Maybe you will find that one day. No one deserves it more.’
She looked back at him then, her melancholy gaze sharpening, her eyes sparking with some more powerful, physical reaction.
‘Maybe I want something else just as much. Something more...immediate.’
He felt it, too, the pulse of desire that seemed to vibrate around them, in the music, with the music, urging them together. They were like Beethoven’s sonorous chords, he thought, distinct and separate notes that could blend into a harmonious whole, something new, more powerful and more beautiful than the single note alone.
‘I want that, too,’ he whispered, tightening his grip. ‘But we dare not have it.’
‘I know.’ She sighed again and detached her fingers from his as the movement ended with a final triumphant chord.
They both clapped, the sound waking Lord Witlow, who added his applause. Much as Davie enjoyed the music, he felt more like protesting its conclusion than applauding its performance.
The end of the piece meant the end of his time with Faith. Though, unlike at the political dinner, he might leave when she did, even offer to see her safely home without anyone present thinking his behaviour suspicious, he knew he didn’t dare subject himself to the temptation of riding alone in the coach with her.
After the music ended, Giles would take his wife up to their bedchamber and make sweet, slow love to her. The spell of the music having only intensified the connection of mind and attraction of body he already felt to Faith, Davie couldn’t keep himself from envisioning doing the same.
Seeing her sitting there, the candlelight sparkling off the spangled silk of her gown, he could imagine leaning over to worship the bare skin of her neck and shoulders with his lips. Wrapping her in his arms, angling her head up for another mesmerising kiss...
Sweat breaking out on his brow, he wrenched his mind from the images. Maggie belonged to Giles in a way Faith would never belong to him, he told himself angrily. Could he not keep that one simple thought in his head?
Faith rose, and he followed her lead, bludgeoning his disobedient mind into performing the normal rituals of politeness, complimenting Maggie on her playing, thanking her for a fine dinner and a lovely evening. After giving her hostess an impulsive hug, she turned to Davie. ‘I suppose I must have my carriage summoned and go home.’
‘I don’t want the evening to end either,’ he admitted. A sudden thought occurred, and he frowned. ‘Are you worried that you’ll have to endure another of the Dowager’s harangues?’
‘No. That’s actually better, too, now that I’ve stopped meekly following all her commands. Every time she begins to criticise, I either interrupt her or leave the room. I don’t think she’s yet figured out exactly what to do about it. It’s lovely, to finally feel I have some power within my own house.’ Her
bright smile faded. ‘Though not enough, I fear.’
Before he could question her about that, Lord Witlow finished his conversation with his daughter, and looping her arm in Giles’s, Maggie walked over to them. ‘We’ve sent for your carriage, Faith. Papa is so fatigued, he’s decided to spend the night with us. Davie will wait with you until it arrives. Would you like him to escort you home, too?’
‘No, that won’t be necessary. John Coachman and the grooms will see me safely to Berkeley Square.’
‘I’ll bid you goodnight, then, and see my father to his room. You will call again soon, won’t you? I already have some ideas about some political work we could do together.’
‘I should be delighted to help in whatever way I can.’
‘Good.’ Maggie reached out to give Faith a hug. ‘I knew we would make great allies!’
Each footfall as they descended the stairs seemed like the bong of a clock sounding the hour marking the end of their time together. Unwilling to part without knowing when he might see her again, Davie said, ‘With the special election and Parliament reconvening last June, many members with agricultural interests haven’t been home to see to their tenants and crops. We’ll soon be taking a brief recess so they can check on the upcoming harvest before the vote is called later this month. If you’d like, I could take you and your sons for a walk around Hyde Park. In the morning, of course, when we’re less likely to get trampled by horsemen and carriages.’
She turned to smile at him. ‘That would be lovely! I know the boys would enjoy it.’
‘Shall I meet you at Hyde Park, or call for you in Berkeley Square? Maybe I could help you review the dossiers of tutors Englemere sent you before we go out.’
To his surprise, that offer brought the anxious look back to her face again. ‘I don’t really need to review them. Englemere has already ensured all those he recommended possess the proper credentials. I only need to interview the candidates to see which one seems the best fit. Perhaps it would be best if we meet you in the Park.’
Taken aback, Davie couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. Obviously, Faith didn’t want him appearing at her front door. Was she embarrassed that some other society caller might discover she had received him?
Immediately, he rejected the thought. He knew Faith cared little for the opinions of society. But the Dowager would certainly not approve of her associating with someone so far beneath her station. Most likely, she was reluctant to invite him into her mother-in-law’s domain, thereby almost goading the Dowager to give her a lecture on the proper behaviour of a duchess.
‘Very well, the Park it shall be. Hyde Park Corner, day after tomorrow at ten o’clock, shall we say?’
‘At ten, yes.’ She smiled, her look of anxiety fading, confirming to him that he had correctly interpreted the reason for her disquiet. ‘How can I thank you enough? Taking me to see Sarah, bringing me into a circle of congenial friends, and then, tonight, reminding me of a joy I’d almost forgotten. I only wish I could provide something so special for you.’
You do—just by letting me be near you. But that sounded too hopelessly besotted, so he said instead, ‘Being a friend is special enough.’
Her smile grew tender. ‘It is indeed.’
Then the butler walked over, announcing the arrival of her carriage, and helped her into her evening cloak. ‘Goodnight, Davie. I shall be looking forward to the Park!’
‘I’m determined to get a laugh out of Ashedon, if I have to play hopscotch through the mud with him. He needs to learn to act like a boy again.’
‘A dignified Member of Parliament, hopping through the mud?’ she laughed. ‘Now that, I truly must see.’
The butler was holding open the door for her. Giving him one last smile, she walked out, leaving him staring after her. Leaving him bereft, with only his lonely room and lonely bed to return to.
But he had the park to look forward to, the day after tomorrow. Which would give him time to make the outing something truly memorable.
Chapter Nine
In the middle of the morning two days later, Faith sat at the desk in the small salon adjoining her bedchamber, making notes on the dossiers of prospective tutors Englemere had forwarded her. It was rather difficult to imagine, from sterile lists of academic backgrounds and previous references, which candidate might be most amenable to the freer, more egalitarian system of education she wanted for her sons, particularly Edward. She would have appreciated Davie’s help in narrowing the field of those to summon for interviews.
Before he’d quickly masked the expression, he’d seemed—offended, that she’d turn down his offer. Another iniquity to lay at the feet of her worthless brother-in-law, she thought, scowling. Since she never knew when or whether Lord Randall would appear, she didn’t dare invite Davie to call. The very idea that he might meet Randall, and what Randall might say to him if they did, made her feel queasy.
She made a final note and assembled the dossiers into a neat stack, then wearily dusted off her hands. She’d barely slept lately, worried that she’d hear his footstep in the hallway, the rattle of the door she kept securely locked, with a chair pushed up against it for extra measure.
As far as she could tell, however, her unpredictable brother-in-law had once again taken an extended leave from the house. Though the Dowager had complained last night that he’d not shown up to escort them to the rout given by one of her closest friends, an event she’d most particularly informed Randall she’d wanted him to attend with them, Faith was relieved by his absence and could only hope it would continue.
As the mantel clock bonged the hour, her spirits rose. Finally it was time to collect her sons for their trip to the Park...where she would see Davie again. Impressed by her old friend during their trip to visit her sister, her boys were almost as excited to have his company again as she was.
After a quick stop to gather up her pelisse and gloves, Faith went to the nursery, to find the boys eager and ready. They trooped to the waiting carriage in an excited cascade of voices, and as soon as the vehicle started on its way, began assaulting her with a volley of questions.
‘One at a time!’ she protested, laughing.
‘Mr Smith said he would take us riding again. Is he bringing ponies, Mama?’ Edward asked.
‘No, we’re to walk today.’ As his eager expression faded, she added quickly, ‘There will be a pond, with ducks. Cook made me a packet of breadcrumbs to feed them.’
‘Will there be cows, too, Mama?’ Matthew asked.
‘No cows—and no fresh milk. Although I imagine we might find some meat pasties somewhere, before we venture home again,’ she added, chuckling at his whoop of enthusiasm anticipating that treat.
‘There are trees in the park, aren’t there?’ Colin asked. ‘Can we climb some?’
Anger and sadness coursed through her, that though her children had been in London for years, apparently their tutor had not been moved to take them beyond their own back garden.
‘Yes, there are trees, but no climbing today. There are also long gravel paths, and you may have a footrace. We’re passing Green Park now; we’ll be entering the park gates soon.’
At that, the boys crowded the window, eager to inspect this new playground. As the carriage passed under the arches at Hyde Park Corner to enter the grounds themselves, Faith scanned the paths for Davie.
The vehicle slowed, beginning a circuit down the carriage row, then stopped altogether. Leaning out over her sons’ heads, Faith spied Davie, who’d waved down the carriage, and her heart leapt.
Fatigue, the burden of responsibility she felt to make the right choices about her sons’ tutor and education, her worries over the Dowager’s interference, and the looming danger posed by Lord Randall—all faded away, washed from her mind by a rush of joy and anticipation at being able to spend the morning with the men who brou
ght light and happiness into her life—her sons, and Davie.
What a blessing it would be, to have Davie’s kind, clever and alluring company every day, the wistful thought occurred. Sighing, she banished it; she would treasure today and not repine that she would not be able to experience such treats more often. All too soon, Davie’s responsibilities—and probably boredom with the company of a matron of no particular talents and her three rambunctious sons—would put an end to such adventures.
She intended to suck every iota of joy out of the ones she managed to grab.
As he approached, the footman handed her down and the boys tumbled out of the coach and ran to meet him. With affection and pride, she watched Edward hold up a hand to halt his brothers before they reached Davie, make him a proper bow, and wave his brothers to copy that behaviour.
Not to be restrained any longer, Matthew tugged at Davie’s sleeve. ‘Mama said we would only walk today, but might there be ponies later?’
‘We are going to the Serpentine to feed the ducks,’ Faith inserted, not wanting her children, who had no idea of the cost involved in renting ponies or hiring grooms, to wheedle Davie for expensive treats.
‘An excellent idea, Duchess,’ Davie said, making her a bow. ‘How nice to see all of you again.’
‘And you, Mr Smith.’ As he straightened, their eyes met, and for a moment, Faith let her tremulous smile and the intensity of her gaze convey all the longing and delight she dare not put into words.
He seemed to understand, for he stared back just as intensely, and for a moment, Faith thought he might take her hand.
Instead, he gave her a tiny nod and turned to Matthew, who was once again tugging at his coat sleeve. ‘Shall we go see those ducks, young man? As for ponies, I thought afterward, we might go to Astley’s Amphitheatre.’
Edward’s eyes widened and he gave a gasp. ‘Where the riders do tricks on horseback? That would be splendid!’
Stolen Encounters with the Duchess Page 11