Cadenza

by Stella Riley

  ‘See what? See that he’d no business seducing you, then marrying someone else? Yes. I see that. But I’m hardly likely to wish he’d come back and married you, am I?’

  For an instant, she was completely nonplussed. Then, in case he had missed the point, she said quietly, ‘Julian … I’m telling you I’m not a – a virgin.’

  ‘Yes. I gathered that. But what of it?’ He shrugged. ‘Neither am I.’

  Shocked into a choke of laughter, Arabella said, ‘That’s different. Gentlemen are expected to be … experienced. Girls are supposed to be untouched.’

  ‘Convenient nonsense made up by men,’ he retorted impatiently. ‘I don’t give a fig for it. So you’re not untouched. So what?’ He bathed her in a sudden dazzling smile. ‘Since we’re telling the truth, I’m not especially experienced … but I’ll be happy to work on that side of things if you’ll give me the chance by marrying me.’

  Unable to believe that, after all her fears, it could possibly be this easy, she said, ‘Are you sure? Are you sure it doesn’t matter?’

  ‘Positive.’ He closed the space between them, his eyes brilliant. ‘Say yes.’

  ‘Yes,’ whispered Arabella shakily. ‘Oh yes. Please.’

  ‘Thank God,’ breathed Julian. And sweeping her back into his arms, he kissed her as if he had been starving.

  And perhaps, without knowing it, he had been. In the second his mouth touched hers, the entire world was full of music … rare, elusive and utterly compelling. A melody more beautiful that any he had ever either heard or even imagined. She was the purity of flutes, the poignancy of oboes and the warm promise of violas. He slid his fingers into that incredible mass of silvery-fair hair while he kissed her brows, her eyelids, her jaw; then, groaning with pleasure at the exquisite sweetness of it, he found her mouth again so he could drink in the taste of her.

  Arabella merely let go, allowing him to carry her away on a tide of sensual promise. His lips asked and hers answered. Her hands traced the line of his shoulders, found the nape of his neck, wound their way through the silky, dark brown hair she had always yearned to touch. She pressed close and then closer, until his fingers skimmed the neckline of her gown, making her blood run quicker and sending sparks exploding through her veins. She kissed a path up his throat, breathed fire against his skin and felt the answering tremor that rippled through him.

  Long moments later and keeping her close within the circle of his arm, he drew her down beside him on the bench and, breathing rather hard, said, ‘How long do we have to wait?’

  ‘What?’ Coherent thought was beyond her.

  ‘To be married. How long must we wait?’

  ‘Not very long.’

  ‘Good.’ He stroked her hair again and then, on a groan, added, ‘I suppose I have to ask Max’s permission, don’t I? Will he give it?’

  Arabella laughed. ‘Yes. He knows I love you. He knew it before I did.’

  ‘Did he? How?’

  ‘Reading between the lines of a letter I wrote. He’d asked about you … and I told him more than I realised.’ She reached up to touch his cheek. ‘He likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be helping with Chalfont.’

  ‘He said he was doing that because you told him to.’

  ‘That’s only partly true. He visited you to see things for himself because I asked him. But if he hadn’t liked what he found … if he had considered you negligent or uncaring … he’d have walked away.’ She thought for a moment and then said, ‘Did he ask what your worst problem was?’

  ‘I – yes. I think so.’

  ‘What answer did you give him?’

  ‘I don’t remember exactly. Probably that it was my own ignorance.’

  ‘Ah.’ Arabella smiled and kissed his jaw. ‘And that was when Max decided to help. You earned it yourself, you see.’

  They fell silent for a time, savouring this new closeness and all it meant for the future they now knew they had. But eventually Julian said, ‘Are we going to tell everyone?’

  ‘Tonight? While they are all together?’ She stood up and pulled him to his feet. ‘Yes. I think so – though it’s a pity the children are in bed.’

  ‘We’ll tell them in the morning. They’ll be ecstatic. Aside from knowing you’ll never leave them, it means you and I can adopt them together.’ A hint of anxiety touched his eyes and he said, ‘Are you really sure about that? It can’t be how you’d imagined --’

  ‘No. It isn’t. It’s better. So play my Rondo again – and then we’ll join the others and you can make our grand announcement.’

  ‘God help me!’ muttered Julian, obediently sitting down at the harpsichord.

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Arabella leaned against his back and put her hands on his shoulders. ‘You’ve just played the most incredibly difficult music I’ve ever heard to a packed audience. And you talked to them – as casually and confidently as you’d talk to Tom. Compared to that, standing in front of our friends is nothing. Now … play for me.’

  * * *

  They re-entered the drawing-room hand in hand and smiling. Consequently, before Julian had a chance to say anything at all, several other people all spoke at once – over which Max’s remark of, ‘And about time!’ emerged triumphant.

  Trying to frown but on the verge of laughter, Arabella said, ‘You might have let Julian break the news, Max. He had a speech all prepared.’

  ‘No,’ confessed Julian. ‘I really didn’t.’

  And then the room erupted into congratulatory hugs, kisses and hand-shaking.

  Slapping Julian on the back, Paul said, ‘Finally found the courage, did you? Well done!’

  Louisa folded Arabella in her arms and said, ‘Oh my dear … he is an exceptional man and he will make you so very happy. I just know it.’

  Miss Beatrice kissed Julian’s cheek, saying, ‘Dear boy – such a lovely girl. Abby and I are so happy for you.’

  Cassie, Caroline and Elizabeth, all talking at once, tried to embrace Arabella at the same time. And Max grinned at his future brother-in-law and said, ‘Aren’t you glad I spared you the need to ask my permission?’

  During the course of all this, Rockliffe rang for champagne and toasts were drunk. But eventually Adeline said, ‘When is the wedding to be? And more to the point – where?’

  Sitting beside Arabella, her fingers wrapped in his, Julian said, ‘We hadn’t got that far. We’d just like it to be soon.’

  ‘There’s a surprise,’ grinned Sebastian. ‘But since you have professional engagements, soon means London, doesn’t it? And --’

  ‘If I might make a suggestion?’ interposed Rockliffe gently. And when everyone fell silent, ‘As you know, Elizabeth and Sherbourne have agreed on banns and will be married next month. I assume neither bride wants a double wedding?’

  Arabella and Elizabeth exchanged glances and said simultaneously, ‘No.’

  ‘Then perhaps Arabella and Julian would like to consider being married from this house by special licence – on a date to be decided after Julian has heard from Kinross. Aside from leaving him free to fulfil his obligations, it has the added advantage that – with the exception of your other brothers, Arabella – everyone you would wish to attend the happy occasion is already here. Or am I missing something?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ remarked Adeline dryly. ‘You’re just assuming that everyone can remain in London for an unspecified period. Dr Featherstone might find that difficult.’

  ‘A retired colleague from Newark is covering for me,’ said Paul. ‘But Sebastian and Cassie can’t possibly want --’

  ‘Of course you must continue to stay with us,’ said Cassie firmly.

  ‘As must Miss Bea and Miss Abby with Adrian and me,’ added Caroline.

  Adrian grinned at Sebastian. ‘That would appear to be settled, then.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ suggested Louisa, ‘Belle and Julian might be allowed a word?’

  Arabella stared hopefully into her love’s eyes. They smiled at her. Then Julian turned to Rockl
iffe and said, ‘Thank you, your Grace. We accept – and are grateful. As for everyone else … if you will all be present to wish us happy, our day will be perfect.’

  * * *

  On the following morning, they told the children. For a handful of heartbeats, all three stared at them open-mouthed. Then Rob and Ellie hurled themselves on Arabella with mingled expressions of glee.

  ‘That’s brilliant!’ exclaimed Rob. ‘The best news ever!’

  ‘Almost as good as being adopted,’ cried Ellie. ‘We’ll be just like a real family. For ever and ever.’

  Despite grinning from ear to ear, Tom tried to hang on to his new-found dignity. He shook Julian’s hand and said, ‘Congratulations, sir. I know you’ll both be happy.’

  Smiling back, Julian pulled the boy into a hug.

  ‘No, Tom. We’ll all be happy,’ he said. ‘And we won’t be like a real family. We’ll be one.’

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Reasoning that his audience at the Queen’s House would be completely different from that at the Pantheon, Julian decided to play the Wynstanton programme at both. The only change he made was to substitute La Marche des Scythes for a less disturbing Royer piece. Then a note arrived from Sir Alec Kinross, setting a date a fortnight hence and adding, ‘Her Majesty asks that you repeat your solo performance – of which she has heard so much – in its entirety.’ Julian’s brows rose a little at that. Then he merely shrugged and agreed. One didn’t, after all, argue with royalty.

  One also did not argue with Rockliffe who, having obtained a special marriage licence and placed the complexities of adopting Tom, Rob and Ellie in the hands of Mr Osborne, coolly suggested that, with ten days between the Pantheon and the Queen’s House, the wedding should take place the day after the first of them.

  Julian began to experience the odd yet somehow not alarming feeling that his life was spiralling out of his control. Then Max Brandon made him sit down and talk about financial matters … and petrified him by bringing up the subject of Arabella’s dowry.

  ‘Wh-What?’ stammered Julian, thinking he must have misheard. ‘F-Fifteen thousand? No. You can’t mean it.’

  ‘She’s never mentioned it?’

  ‘Not a word.’

  ‘Well, I suppose she has her reasons. But why are you looking so horrified? You can put some of it to good use – first and foremost by installing a reliable roof over her head.’

  ‘No! I mean, yes – I know the roof needs repairing. But I can’t use Arabella’s money for that. It – it wouldn’t be right.’ He could feel a chill invading his veins. ‘I don’t understand why you agreed to me marrying her. You can’t have wanted to.’

  Max sighed. ‘Julian … try not to be a bigger ass than you can help. I know you love Belle and I know you’re not after her money. I also know what she’d do to me if I tried to come between you – and it wouldn’t be pleasant. We’re only discussing this because marriage settlements and the like are a necessary formality. So will you please stop panicking and pay attention?’

  ‘I’m not panicking. I’m attempting to come to terms with a sum of money beyond my comprehension. And if you’d never had more than fifty pounds to your name, you might understand what I mean.’

  ‘I understand it now. How much is the Pantheon paying you, by the way?’

  ‘A hundred.’

  ‘A hundred for an hour’s work? And you’re complaining?’

  Julian looked him in the eye and said something pithy and extremely rude.

  Max laughed. ‘Good. It’s nice to know you’re human after all.’

  * * *

  Adam and Leo Brandon arrived two days before the wedding, made the acquaintance of their future brother-in-law and, after an hour or so, agreed that the fellow seemed to be sound. ‘Odd,’ said Adam, ‘but sound. I can’t imagine him performing in public, though – wouldn’t have thought he had the stomach for it. Still … we’ll know tomorrow.’

  The Pantheon was packed. Word that the virtuoso earl was to make his first public appearance had caused a scramble for tickets. Every seat was taken, people were standing wherever they could find room and others were still trying to get in.

  The Duke of Rockliffe’s party which – as well as the Amberleys, the Sarres, the Audleys, the Brandons and Ralph Sherbourne, now also included the Featherstones and the Caldercott ladies – occupied two of the boxes overlooking the main floor. Only the children were missing. Since all three had roles to play in tomorrow’s wedding, Louisa and Arabella had decreed an early night with no additional excitement.

  Sitting more or less directly above the platform on which the harpsichord stood, Arabella looked down at it and wondered why her nerves were twitching when she knew perfectly well that Julian’s wouldn’t be. She also wondered if she would ever get used to the change that came over him when he walked out before an audience … and concluded that she wouldn’t.

  There was to be no Mozart concerto tonight – only Julian’s solo recital. As unruffled as he had been in Wynstanton House, he strolled out to welcoming applause. Hand on heart, he bowed first to the audience and then, looking up, directly to Arabella. She laughed down on him and blew a kiss. The audience laughed with her and the applause doubled in volume. Julian took a moment to glance about him … and, in what those who knew him suspected was probably to become as much an expected idiosyncrasy as that charmingly modest bow, he shrugged out of his coat and sat down at the harpsichord. The audience fell gradually silent … and the Fantasia in C minor filled the vast space.

  Even before he played the Christian Bach Andante, they loved him. After it, he got a standing ovation. The first Scarlatti sonata dazzled them and Le Vertigo brought calls for an encore pouring in from every corner. With another, even deeper bow for Arabella, Julian played her Sarabande and Rondo. But the audience refused to be satisfied. They demanded more. And that was when Sebastian Audley leaned over the parapet of the box and shouted down, ‘You can’t leave it there, Julian. Play the piece you thought would be too much for them. I’ll wager it isn’t. And if I can take it, I dare anybody to admit they can’t.’

  No one knew what he was talking about – but they cheered him on anyway.

  Julian held up a hand for silence and, speaking for the first time, said, ‘Very well. I would have spared you this, ladies and gentlemen … but La Marche des Scythes it is. And if you don’t like it, please remember to blame Mr Audley.’

  Seeing only smiles and expressions of anticipation, Arabella suspected that Julian had brought them to a place where they were prepared to enjoy anything – even the piece Max insisted on calling Langham’s Nightmare. And so it was. Despite flinching at the violently turbulent opening … despite staring in frankly open-mouthed confusion … despite even possibly not actually liking the music … they appreciated and responded to the skill required to perform it. Or perhaps, thought Arabella when the Pantheon was ringing with another ovation, they just couldn’t help responding to Julian himself.

  ‘You might as well listen to somebody banging on cooking-pots,’ grumbled Max. ‘Lord only knows how he gets away with it.’

  ‘It’s the sort of thing that grows on you,’ grinned Sebastian.

  ‘So are warts.’

  * * *

  Janet and the Caldercott sisters having undertaken to ready the children, Arabella dressed for her wedding amidst a great deal of laughter, attended only by her mother, Elizabeth and the duchess’s personal maid. While Jeanne turned her normally ungovernable hair into an elaborate arrangement, cunningly twined through with ribbons, Louisa and Elizabeth laid out the gown of violet silk and silver tissue, debated the question of jewellery and eventually concluded that none was necessary.

  ‘The gown is adventurous enough,’ remarked Louisa. ‘Not your usual style at all, Belle.’

  ‘I know. But I saw the silk and remembered the portrait of Great-Great-Grandmother Venetia wearing that colour. Since I’ve inherited her hair, I hoped it might look as good
on me as it did on her.’ She smiled at the maid and said, ‘That is so pretty, Jeanne. Thank you. And please thank her Grace for letting me borrow you.’

  As Jeanne curtsied and left the room, Elizabeth reached for the gown ready to help her cousin into it and said, ‘This is perfect, Belle. Julian won’t be able to take his eyes off you.’

  Arabella laughed. ‘You must have realised by now that Julian never notices what anyone is wearing – including himself.’

  ‘I still can’t equate the two sides to him,’ mused Louisa. ‘Off the platform, he’s diffident and endearingly shy. On it, he’s relaxed, confident and totally in command.’ She shook her head. ‘And when he plays … well. The ladies are going to flock around him, Belle. You do know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. If they do it when he’s standing in front of a harpsichord, he’ll smile and reply in as few words as possible. If they do it elsewhere, he’ll find somewhere to hide.’

  ‘I’d worry about your confidence if I didn’t suspect that you’re probably right. Now … stand still while I lace you up.’

  Despite her initial doubts, Louisa had to admit that the violet silk beneath the silvery overlay looped up polonaise-style, was a triumph. She contemplated Arabella from head to toe and, eyes a little bright, said, ‘You look beautiful, my darling … and you’re marrying a man who actually deserves you. And now I shall go before I ruin my face by crying.’

  Arabella watched her leave and then turned in time to see Elizabeth reaching for a handkerchief. She said, ‘Don’t, Lizzie. If you cry, I will, too. And aside from the fact that – unlike yours, my eyes would end up pink and puffy – we’ve had scarcely a minute to talk about your wedding. Are you regretting not being married at home?’