by Stella Riley
One more day, thought Julian grimly as he settled the children down for the second night. Just one more day. I can manage that … as long as I don’t let myself think about doing all this again in reverse.
* * *
When the carriage entered the outskirts of London and the press of traffic therein, Ellie forgot to be tired, Rob forgot to feel sick and all three children grew increasingly excited. The only thing keeping Julian mildly sane was the prospect of seeing Arabella. In every other respect – and for the first time ever – he was acutely aware that he was going to arrive at Rockliffe’s door grubby, crumpled and looking even more disreputable than he usually did. The butler, he reflected gloomily, would probably send them all round to the tradesmen’s entrance – which might actually be for the best.
Their first sight of Wynstanton House rendered the children mute for the first time in an hour and Ellie crawled on to Julian’s knee. She whispered, ‘It – it’s too big.’
‘Yes. It is rather large, isn’t it?’ He somehow managed to hide the fact that his insides were in knots. ‘But Miss Belle is in there and – and her mama, I think. So there’s nothing to be scared of. Come on. We have to get out.’
But Ellie refused to budge, leaving Julian with no alternative but to step down with her clinging limpet-like to his neck. Then the door to the house swung open, a pair of liveried footmen trotted down the steps to begin unloading the carriage and the butler said sonorously, ‘Good afternoon, Lord Chalfont. Their Graces have been greatly looking forward to your arrival. I hope your journey was pleasant?’
‘Not particularly.’ Hemmed in by Tom and Rob, Julian allowed the butler to usher them all inside and made another unsuccessful attempt to dislodge Ellie. Finally, in desperation, he said, ‘I’m sorry. But could someone find --’ And then, hearing running footsteps, looked towards the stairs in time to see Arabella come to a halt on the half-landing.
For a handful of seconds, their eyes met and Julian lost the ability to breathe. She looked beautiful; but the flowered green silk gown over its cream, lace-trimmed underskirt made her a stranger. Then, with a small inarticulate sound, she was skimming down to the hall, with the boys running over to meet her and Ellie was suddenly fighting to be free. He set the child down, then stood like a stone as Arabella, careless of her billowing petticoats, tried to hug all three children at once while all of them talked at the same time. Julian’s chest hurt. He hauled in a lungful of air and found it didn’t help very much.
When the children finally released her, Arabella smiled radiantly at Julian, gathered up her skirts so she could run to him … and then abruptly realised that she shouldn’t. Not because Symonds was watching but because she couldn’t hurl herself into Julian’s arms without being sure he would welcome her doing so and not feel embarrassed. So she settled for walking as quickly as dignity allowed, while he took two hesitant steps towards her. Then they were face to face and his fingers were curling warm and close around hers, making her dizzy and speechless with pleasure.
Her eyes told Julian everything her lips could not say … and all the things he had been worried about ceased to matter. She had not changed. Aside from the lovely, expensive clothes, she was still the same girl she had been at Chalfont. More than anything, he wanted to wrap his arms about her, to breathe in the scent of her hair, to kiss her until the world went away. But he retained just enough sense to know that he’d better not. So he bowed over her hand, brushed the lightest of caresses on her knuckles and, on a mere breath, said, ‘I missed you.’
Still gazing into his eyes, she whispered, ‘And I, you. I thought you’d never get here – and now I can’t believe you have.’
Very reluctantly, he released her fingers but was unable to stop smiling at her.
‘Neither can I.’
Having waited for a few moments, Symonds gave a discreet cough and said, ‘Perhaps your lordship would care to follow me up to the drawing-room?’
This swept the smile from Julian’s face.
‘Right now? Do I have to? I’m not fit to be seen.’
‘Yes, you are.’ Arabella was unable to stop herself brushing back the lock of rich brown hair that habitually escaped its ribbon. ‘To me, you are.’
‘That’s because you’re used to my clothes looking as if I’ve slept in them.’
She shook her head and, laughter trembling in her voice, said, ‘Julian, everyone knows you’ve been travelling for days. I promise you that they’ll understand. Now come with me and stop worrying.’
Seeing that he still looked unconvinced, she slid her hand back into his and squeezed it gently. He shot her a brief, startled glance and looked swiftly away … but not before she glimpsed the beginnings of a smile and was filled with such a powerful surge of tenderness that it threatened to overwhelm her. To hide it, she offered her free hand to Ellie – currently hopping from foot to foot behind her – and grinned at the boys. ‘Let’s go.’
Rob and Tom sent Julian imploring glances. He shrugged helplessly and let Arabella tow him upstairs. A footman threw open a pair of doors … and he found himself facing Rockliffe, Lady Brandon, Max … and an elegant lady in turquoise.
Rockliffe strolled over to offer his hand.
‘Welcome to Wynstanton House, Chalfont. I gather you are already acquainted with Lady Brandon and her son … but allow me to present you to my duchess. Adeline, my dear … rescue is finally at hand. Our virtuoso is here.’
‘And a good thing, too,’ said Adeline, with a warm smile that embraced both Julian and the children. ‘I am happy to meet you, my lord. Have you had a perfectly awful journey?’
‘It wasn’t good,’ he agreed, bowing over her hand. ‘Your Grace, I apologise for my appearance but --’
‘Don’t.’ It was Louisa, already heading towards Ellie and the boys, who spoke. ‘Three days in a carriage with three children? I doubt there are many gentlemen who could survive the experience with their sanity and temper intact.’ Startling each child with a quick hug, she said, ‘Did you enjoy riding in the carriage, Ellie?’
‘Sometimes. But Rob kept being sick.’
Rob’s ears turned red. Tom groaned and stared at his feet.
‘Oh dear,’ murmured Louisa unsteadily. ‘How … unfortunate.’
‘That must have been fun,’ remarked Max, slanting a grin at Julian but holding out his hand to the boy standing ramrod straight beside him. ‘How do you do, Tom?’
It was Tom’s turn to flush. ‘I’m well, my lord. Thank you.’
‘And you?’ Max ruffled Rob’s hair. ‘Still practising your music?’
‘Y-Yes,’ stammered Rob. ‘But Sir Julian’s needed the harpsichord more than usual.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it,’ said Rockliffe. And then, ‘Louisa … may I ask if you would be good enough to take the children up to the nursery floor and have Symonds send suitable refreshments? I imagine Lord Chalfont needs a brief respite.’
‘I was about to suggest that very thing,’ agreed Louisa cheerfully. ‘Come along all of you. Belle and his lordship will join you later. But for now, you’ll have to make do with me.’ And she shepherded them firmly from the room.
When the door closed behind them, Adeline said, ‘Please sit down. Arabella, I think you may now safely let go of his lordship’s hand and pour him a cup of tea.’
Arabella looked down, as if unaware that her fingers were still firmly locked with Julian’s. Releasing him with a tiny embarrassed laugh she said, ‘I’m sorry. I’m so happy to see him that I’m scared he’ll vanish again.’
‘You cannot possibly be as happy as I,’ drawled Rockliffe, waving Julian into a chair and seating himself in an adjacent one. ‘The concerto ensemble will be here as usual tomorrow afternoon. I rejoice to say that they are now solely your responsibility.’
Frowning a little and absently accepting the cup Arabella put in his hand, Julian said, ‘Is something wrong with them?’
‘They are … fractious.’
‘You mean the
y argue?’ Julian’s brow cleared. ‘Yes. Of course they do.’
Looking mildly entertained, Max said, ‘Perfectly normal, is it?’
‘Yes. They’ve been rehearsing a harpsichord concerto without the harpsichord and reducing the orchestration will have raised questions. But everything will settle down now I’m here.’ He hesitated before adding, ‘I can’t tell your Grace what this opportunity means to me. The concert alone would have been more than enough. But the chance to play with an orchestra --’
Rockliffe silenced him with a wave of one indolent hand.
‘You thanked me quite adequately by letter, Chalfont. And I am eagerly anticipating your performance. The programme you have put together is … intriguing.’
‘It’s also gained the proportions of a State Secret,’ remarked Max. ‘Even Belle hasn’t been allowed to see it – never mind the rest of us.’
Arabella laughed again but said smugly, ‘Julian will tell me, though.’
‘No, he will not,’ said Rockliffe flatly. ‘You hear me, Chalfont?’
‘Yes,’ agreed Julian. Then, looking at Max and dragging his mind to more mundane matters, he said, ‘Your men arrived the day before we left, Lord Brandon. I – well, I’m extremely grateful.’
Shrugging this aside, Max said, ‘Adam worked fast. How many did he send?’
‘Four. They’ll live in the house and I gave them authority to do whatever they think necessary.’ Setting his cup aside, he stood up and said diffidently, ‘If it’s all right, I should make sure the children aren’t --’
‘I’ll see to them,’ interposed Arabella in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘You will take an hour to yourself and catch your breath. I imagine you’d like a bath?’
‘I would kill for a bath. What with Ellie spending half the journey in my lap and Rob throwing up every five miles or so --’ He stopped abruptly, colouring a little. ‘My apologies. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘I don’t see why not.’ Adeline smiled at him. ‘Speaking for myself and knowing just a little of the horrors of travelling with only one small baby, I admire your stamina. Arabella … pull the bell for a footman to show Lord Chalfont to his rooms. And -- ’
‘Forgive me,’ blurted Julian. ‘But please … could everyone stop calling me Chalfont? If no one minds, I prefer my given name.’
‘Julian, then. And don’t feel obliged to re-appear until dinner.’
He nodded but said, ‘When I’ve made myself presentable, may I see the harpsichord?’
‘By all means,’ sighed Rockliffe. ‘I’m amazed you are willing to wait that long.’
* * *
Bathed, shaved and clad in what had recently become his second-best suit of clothes, Julian and the children followed Arabella to the ballroom … he fending off her attempts to prise the concert programme out of him and the children gazing about them in awe whilst chattering about their rooms, Lily the nursemaid and Lady Vanessa Jane – who had immediately, if temporarily, occupied a Figgy-sized space in Ellie’s affections.
In truth, Julian was glad of the distraction. It made it possible to almost ignore the warmth of Arabella’s hand on his arm and the emotions and desires it aroused in him.
‘I don’t see why you won’t tell me,’ she grumbled. ‘I suggested some of the pieces myself, after all.’
‘You heard the duke.’
She turned her head. ‘You’ll tell me, won’t you, Tom?’
‘Not if Sir Julian says not.’
‘Which I do. And please don’t ask Rob, Arabella. He’ll sing.’
‘Rob’s singing never sounds like anything,’ observed Ellie. ‘And when he tries to do the angry bit, it’s worse.’
‘Angry bit?’ prompted Arabella, feeling a slight quiver run through Julian.
‘It’s not angry,’ said Rob crossly. ‘And I’m sick of saying it.’
‘I think it is,’ argued Ellie. ‘And anyway, I like the bouncy music best.’
Arabella looked up into Julian’s face and laughed. ‘Bouncy?’
‘Apparently.’ He’d missed her laughter and was rediscovering what it did to him. ‘Your brother says he’s helping me because you asked him to. Why did you?’
‘Because he can and you need it,’ came the simple reply. And then, throwing open tall double-doors, ‘Here we are.’
Julian stepped inside the ballroom and froze – as did the children. Gleaming floorboards, crystal chandeliers and windows along one side hung with moss-green velvet and separated by gold-painted, ceiling-height caryatids.
Christ, he thought. It’s massive. Beautiful – but massive. And I won’t know about the acoustics until the audience is in and I start playing.
‘What do you think?’ asked Arabella.
He shook his head. ‘How many people has Rockliffe invited?’
‘Over a hundred, I believe. Why? You’re not nervous, are you?’
‘No. I’m praying to God this won’t turn out to be an echo-chamber.’
A low platform the width of the room had been erected at the far end and on it stood the harpsichord. Shadowed by Rob, Julian advanced on it as if magnetised while Tom continued to stare about him, dumbstruck. Then Ellie said, ‘The gold ladies are pretty. But why aren’t they wearing more clothes?’ And the tension shattered.
The harpsichord was exquisite and in pristine condition. After a moment, Julian stretched out a hand and played a few notes. Then he uttered a muffled curse.
‘What?’ asked Arabella, wrenched from the pleasure of simply looking at him.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he played a couple of arpeggios, followed by a series of chords. Finally he said, ‘It’s flat.’
‘It can’t be! His Grace had someone tune it only two days ago.’
‘And it’s tuned perfectly note-to-note. But the whole thing is almost a quarter-tone flat. If I wasn’t giving a recital, it would be acceptable. Since I am, I’ll have to re-tune it.’
Seeing his hand sliding towards his pocket, Arabella grabbed it before it could get there.
‘Stop. You can’t do it now.’
‘It won’t take very long,’ he protested, his attention instantly riveted on the sensation of her fingers about his wrist. ‘I’ll just need to --’
‘No. Dinner is in an hour. If you set to work now, you’ll tune it and then you’ll start playing – and no one will see you before tomorrow. You can do it in the morning.’
‘All right.’ His gaze travelled slowly from her hand, to her eyes and finally to her mouth. His voice, lower in pitch and a little husky, he said, ‘Tomorrow. If you say so.’
Arabella’s breath caught and a ripple of heat flickered along her veins. Without realising it, she swayed towards him and …
‘Can I watch?’ demanded Rob.
Taking a guilty step back, Julian said, ‘What?’
‘Can I watch while you tune it? I promise I’ll be quiet. So can I? Please?’
‘Yes. If you wish.’
He wondered if Arabella was relieved or disappointed that they had brought three chaperones with them. He didn’t feel nearly as grateful as he knew he ought to. If he had kissed her, he would have had to say all the things he’d vowed not to say until the concert was behind him. Pushing the thought aside, he said, ‘I haven’t thanked you, have I?’
‘For what?’ she asked.
‘For persuading Rockliffe to do this.’
‘I didn’t persuade him. Oh – I’d planned to. Aside from Lizzie, it was my main reason for agreeing to come to London with him.’
‘Was it?’
She nodded. ‘You once told me that a concert required money and patronage and I knew Rockliffe could supply both so I decided to badger him until he did. Only, as it turned out, after hearing you play – even from the wrong side of the library door – he’d already decided to do it. Truthfully, I can’t imagine how I ever thought he might not.’
‘I hope I’ll justify your faith. I still can’t explain how it feels to be given something I thought I
’d never have again.’
‘You don’t have to explain. I know.’ For several minutes neither of them spoke. But finally Arabella said reluctantly, ‘We should re-join the others.’
‘If you’re not going to let me tune the harpsichord, I suppose we might as well.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I hope you’re going to guide us back. Left to ourselves, we could all be wandering this house for days. What do you think, Tom?’
Tom grinned back. ‘I think that if you were left to yourself, you’d tune the harpsichord and spend the night in here with it. Right, Miss Belle?’
‘Absolutely right,’ she laughed, dropping an arm about the boy’s shoulders for a quick, impulsive hug. ‘He must think we don’t know him at all.’
* * *
On the following morning, Arabella announced that she and her cousin would begin the children’s visit by taking them to shake out the fidgets in Hyde Park.
‘And tomorrow, when the harpsichord is re-tuned and Rob is free to join us, we’ll go to the Tower of London. What do you think?’
Tom and Rob voted this a capital idea.
Ellie said gleefully, ‘The bloody tower that Norman built?’
Julian watched Arabella struggling not to laugh and Cousin Elizabeth trying to hide a quiver of shock … at which point he silently thanked God for a narrow escape. He had a feeling that the real Miss Lizzie would have had all the children marching in step – or died trying.
In this, he did Elizabeth an injustice. The second after she recoiled from what she had initially thought was the child’s profanity, she realised her mistake. She also, with a good deal of dismay, realised something else. She didn’t want to be jealous of her cousin’s unconcealed joy in Lord Chalfont’s company – she wanted to be glad for her. But seeing Arabella glowing with happiness and witnessing the expression in his lordship’s eyes when he looked at her was suddenly excruciatingly painful.