by Vella, Wendy
“I’ve been extremely lucky until now.”
Her smile was charming and added another level of beauty.
“We shall begin!” the Duchess of Yardly thumped her cane down hard.
Gabe watched Alexander Hetherington leap up on a chair that had been placed before the audience. He then looked at each of them silently for several seconds.
“Welcome to another of the Duchess of Awkward‘s infamous literary salons.”
“Pompous twit,” his brother heckled.
“Where your mind will be broadened, if that’s possible”—he shot his twin a look—”and delighted with the wonders of Captain Broadbent and Lady Nauticus as they navigate the treacherous waters of love while staying in good health,” he added, turning the book to the spine so he could read the title. Walter wandered over to sniff his boots, then sat beside him, leaning on the chair so it moved slightly. Alexander kept his balance.
“He’s a lovely dog,” Lady Levermarch said. “My daughter must never see him, or she will search every corner of London until she finds an exact replica.”
“Children.” The Duchess of Raven sighed. “They are the light and dark of our lives.”
“Stop!” The door was thrown open hard enough to thud into the wall, and in ran Cambridge Sinclair. “You,” he pointed at his sister, “lied to me.”
“Which time?” the duchess said, unperturbed, examining her nails.
“Sit, Mr. Sinclair, or we shall be still here at midnight.” The duchess waved a hand at him. She was excited, Gabe could see it in her eyes, even though she still scowled.
“Is there to be food?” He looked at the empty table before the sofa.
“I have ordered more,” Benjamin said. “Sit, Cam, and let us watch Alex make a fool of himself.”
“But there are no more chairs,” he said, looking about the room. “And I refuse to sit in one of those spindly upright things.” He sat on the floor, resting against his sister’s chair.
“Well, it’s not like this could be termed in any way normal,” Michael said in answer to the look Gabe threw him. “I must admit I’m looking forward to what happens next.”
All of the Sinclairs looked alike, with subtle variances. Cam was tall, with a slighter build than his eldest brother. But he had the dark hair and green eyes.
“You may continue, Alex,” Cam said, long legs out before him, looking a great deal like Gabe’s brothers. Walter wandered over and sniffed him, then lowered himself to the floor, placing his head in Cambridge Sinclair’s lap.
“Exhausted from the loss of blood, Captain Broadbent struggled to hold his beloved.”
“What?” Lady Levermarch said. “I thought he was unhurt?”
“It appears not,” Gabe said.
“Hold on, my love.” Alex mimicked a credible woman’s voice.
Alex was entertaining, at one point leaping off the chair and grabbing a long piece of material that was draped along the back of the sofa. He wrapped it around his neck.
“A prop, really, Alex?” his brother heckled. “Can your voice not carry you?”
“The problem is that his wife once told him he had a voice fit for stage,” Lady Levermarch said. “It’s led to delusions of grandeur.”
“Hannah is tone deaf,” Benjamin added.
Gabe laughed and had to admit that he was enjoying himself. Abby was grinning and clapping enthusiastically through the entire performance. Dimity was frowning.
“Tolerable performance, Alexander. And now Lord Raine will read,” the duchess said, thumping her cane in appreciation.
“No, I won’t.”
“If you are here, you read.”
“Then I shall leave.”
“I never took you for a coward, Raine,” she needled, but Gabe had been insulted by far worse than her. His brothers had been insulting him since they were in short pants.
“There are many others happy to make fools of themselves, Duchess. No need for me to do so also,” Gabe said calmly. “After all, I brought the book they are reading from, so that allows me a boon, surely?”
“Scared, Raine?” Alexander taunted him.
“Not at all, but unlike you, Hetherington, I have no wish to make a fool of myself. And that chair will never hold me.”
“I will go next.” Lady Levermarch winked at him. “And you can take the time to grow a spine, Raine.”
“Saved by the shrew,” Benjamin said. “Where is the food?”
“Perhaps we should send someone to find it?” Cambridge added, still lounging on the floor with Walter.
“Ben, a hand if you please,” Lady Levermarch said, holding out hers.
Her brother-in-law hurried forward to help her up onto the chair.
“She must have caused mayhem when she first entered society,” Abby whispered, her eyes on the golden-haired beauty.
“She did, but mainly for her antics. Phoebe liked to do horse tricks in the park dressed in breeches. Her groom used to be in a circus, you see, and she coerced him into teaching her,” Alexander said.
“She’s stunning,” Dimity whispered as Lady Levermarch began. She changed voices with each character and put on a credible performance. Her beauty held the eye, but she was also humorous.
“Beauty and wit. One hopes there is not a brain also,” Michael declared.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Alex said. “She can outwit most people.”
“Run, my darling Lady Nauticus!” Lady Levermarch cried. “I shall find you after I rid us of the pack of ferocious stoats.”
Beside him, Dimity giggled.
“I assure you, this a very serious piece of literary art.” Gabe leaned over and whispered the words to her. Her scent was clean and not like many he encountered most evenings. She smelled like meadows and open spaces.
And you are an idiot. How could the scent of a woman’s skin conjure up that?
“Are you a lover of literature, Miss Brown?”
“I am, Mr. Diard.”
“It is a wonderful thing to pick up a book and escape from life briefly, do you not think?”
“Yes, indeed. Something my father taught me at a young age,” Dimity added.
Gabe watched Lady Levermarch and listened to Diard talk to Dimity. The man was polite, and he would tolerate nothing less. She was uncomfortable enough without someone making her more so.
“Thank God!” Cam said when the door opened and Chibbers stagged in with a tray, followed by servants carrying more refreshments. “I was feeling weak.”
“As you ate this morning, I fail to see how that is possible.” The Duchess of Raven looked disgusted.
Gabe watched Dimity rise and move to assist the staff. The woman did not look out of place here surrounded by nobility. Her beauty was the equal to every other woman’s in the room.
“Miss Brown is clearly a valued companion of the duchess’s.” Diard looked to where Dimity stood laughing with Benjamin Hetherington. Gabe saw the interest in his eyes and battled the need to growl at the man.
“She is under my protection also,” he said, just so the man knew she was not alone in the world. “She was my sister’s piano teacher.”
“A very talented woman then,” Diard said in his French-accented voice that suddenly annoyed Gabe.
“Oh, Captain Broadbent, how will we ever reach our destination with so many obstacles in our path?” Cambridge Sinclair cried mournfully, now taking his turn on the chair. He had the material around his head, making him look like a little old woman. “But Lady Nauticus, love will carry us there on silken wings, until we reach our destination.”
“Rubbish,” the duchess said. “Silken wings,” she muttered. “Utter rubbish.”
“Kiss me, Captain Broadbent,” Cam cried. He then bent to place a gentle kiss on Walter’s nose, who in turned sneezed loudly.
“Cam, you are a fool,” the Duchess of Raven said, laughing, when he’d finished. Cam bowed deeply.
“Hard to believe the man is really quite intelligent and runs a successful
newspaper,” Benjamin said conversationally.
“I heard that.” Cam leapt from the chair. “And unlike your sturdy soul, Benjamin, I can be many things, including a thespian.”
Michael went next, his voice taking on each character with ease. His applause was just as loud as Cam’s.
“Your turn, Raine,” the duchess said when his brother was done. Her look dared him to refuse.
“Of course, not if it’s too much,” Alexander Hetherington said with an insincere smile. “After all, it is not for everyone. One is almost born being able to—”
“Shut up, Hetherington,” Gabe growled, regaining his feet. “I have three brothers, and that attempt at pathetic manipulation will not sway me.”
“Subtle, not pathetic,” Alexander added.
Gabe did not take the book Michael handed him; instead he simply vaulted onto the chair.
“If I must do this, then I will say what I wish.”
“That is not how this works!” the duchess cried. “I wish to hear more of the story.”
“Dimity will read it for you later.”
“Let him read what he wishes. It is, after all, his first salon,” Cam said, holding a huge wedge of cake in one hand, seemingly oblivious to Walter sitting an inch from his face.
“Poetry,” Gabe began, “is where the real skill in writing lies.”
“I’ll concede that,” Alex Hetherington said.
Gabe let the silence settle until he had everyone’s attention, and then he began.
“My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So it is now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is Father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.”
“Wordsworth!” the duchess spat when he finished the poem.
“Come now, Duchess.” Lady Levermarch blew her nose loudly in a handkerchief. No dainty eye dabbing for her. “Even you cannot deny the beauty of those words and delivery. Lord Raine spoke those words from his soul. Surely even your black heart must admit to that.”
“Oh, yes.” The Duchess of Raven sighed.
“And far better than dreary old Lucan,” Alex said.
“I beg your pardon!” the Duchess of Yardly roared.
And the debate began.
“It was lovely,” Dimity and Abby said. Gabe bowed to them.
“Well said.” Cam fished out his handkerchief and patted his eyes.
“Our father’s favorite poem,” Michael said with bright eyes. “Gabe read it to him a great deal in his last days.”
He saw the understanding in Dimity’s eyes. She knew what it was like to lose someone she loved. A father. They shared a glance, and then Walter broke the moment by climbing up to Gabe on the chair. There was of course no room, the chair wobbled, and in seconds he was plummeting toward the floor, his moment of glory well and truly behind him.
Chapter Fifteen
“Walter!” Dimity shrieked as she ran toward Lord Raine. He hit the floor with a resounding thud. “My lord, are you all right?”
He was on his back, Walter standing on his chest, and Romulus yapped about his head thinking the entire incident a great game.
“I can’t breathe,” he wheezed, looking up at her.
“Walter, get off.” She tugged the dog to one side.
“All right, Raine?” Cambridge Sinclair stood on the opposite side now, attempting to contain his laugher. “Nothing broken?”
“Merely my pride, Sinclair.” Lord Raine took the hand offered and rose to his feet.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about pride. I gave up on that years ago. Makes life far easier if you don’t mind making a cake of yourself occasionally… speaking of cake….” Mr. Sinclair wandered away again.
“I’m sorry, my lord. He did not mean you any harm.”
“I am well, Dimity. Don’t fuss.”
Her heart still thudded hard inside her chest. She’d been terrified when she watched Lord Raine fall.
“He… ah, he appears to like you.” Walter was now sitting on his foot, as if to apologize for his bad manners.
“I would hate to be his enemy, then. I forgive you, Walter, it’s all right.” He patted the dog’s head, and something warm wrapped around her. He was a good man; she knew that no matter how much she’d tried to deny it.
“And now I must take them out for a walk. Walter, Romulus, come.”
“Oh now, that’s not fair,” Lord Raine said. “You get to leave after my public humiliation, and I must face those who witnessed it.”
Dimity walked away but turned after a few steps. “You spoke so beautifully, my lord. That poem was lovely.”
She’d been mesmerized when he’d recited it, his voice deep and sure, each word spoken as if it was important to him.
“Thank you. It was something I read to my father in his last days.”
“And I’m sure he found comfort in that, my lord.”
“It’s my hope he did.” He said the words solemnly, and she knew he’d loved his father deeply.
“Did you see your father before he died, Dimity?” He spoke softly so only she could hear.
“Yes. I played the piano for him.” And she held that memory close when the pain of missing him was strong.
“A wonderful memory to have, I am sure.”
“Yes, even if he was...”
“Even if he was?”
“Excuse me, my lord.” Dimity called to the dogs and quickly hurried from the room. She’d nearly told him her secret. What had she been thinking?
“Oh, Dimity,” Maisie sighed. “How wonderful he was. That voice.” The maid sighed again, joining her in the hallway.
“They were all wonderful,” she said, making her way down the stairs to the front entrance. Once there she pulled on her bonnet, leashed the dogs, and was soon outside in the sunshine.
She visited the park twice a day with Walter and Romulus. Sometimes the duchess came with her, but often it was just Dimity, and she loved this time alone to think. Today she had much on her mind.
“Miss Brown.”
Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Mr. Diard had followed her. Of his assistant there was no sign.
“Mr. Diard, what can I do for you?”
“I wondered if you would like company on your walk. The duchess is busy, so I shall return when she is once again alone so we may discuss the portrait.”
“And your assistant?”
“Is in the kitchens meeting staff. He likes to do that with every household to make sure my sitting will run smoothly.”
“Of course,” Dimity said, not really understanding what Mr. Allard would be doing, as the staff in the Duchess of Yardly’s household dared not step so much as a toe over the line.
“Just a few minutes of your time on a sunny day, Miss Brown.”
“Of course.” She could hardly say no, no matter that she wanted to.
“I understand you are a piano teacher also. Where did you learn to play?”
“My father was an excellent pianist and also taught music.”
“I was never able to master it, much to my mother’s regret. Painting was always something I excelled at,” he said.
“I cannot paint,” Dimity said.
“But have you really tried?” He smiled again. “It is not for everyone, but with practice, most people can paint something that looks like it could hang on a wall. Perhaps I could teach you?”
“I doubt there will be time, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Diard.” Her locket slipped from her bodice as she bent to pat Romulus.
“May I see that, Miss Brown? It looks a lovely piece.”
His words had a sharpness to them, so she looked up. But Mr. Diard was still smiling, and Dimity thought she must have imagined it. She held the locket up for his inspection.
“It is lovely. I hav
e not seen its like before.”
“It was my mother’s,” Dimity said, tucking it back into her bodice.
“Your words tell me she has passed,” Mr. Diard said.
“She has, but I did not know her, as it was when I was a babe.”
“Still, it is very painful to lose a parent.”
“I’m not sure you can mourn for someone you did not know.”
“You can mourn for what you did not have, perhaps?”
“Yes, I think you are right.” She did mourn what she had not experienced. What others had. A mother’s hand on her cheek or sweet-smelling hug. Abby had often shared what she’d learned from her mother in the brief time they’d had together, and Dimity had felt the pang of what she’d lost.
“But other memories give us warmth,” Mr. Diard said.
“They do,” Dimity agreed thinking of her father.
They walked down the path, chatting, with the dogs sniffing a myriad of different scents.
Mr. Diard asked questions, as did she, and soon she felt like they were on their way to becoming comfortable with each other. Which would help the sittings, Dimity was sure, as the duchess would not be easy to work with.
“Has London always been your home, Miss Brown?”
“Yes, I have always lived here.”
“I do enjoy my time here, but France will always be my home now.” His fingers patted her arm where it rested on his sleeve.
“I have often longed to visit France.”
“Perhaps one day you shall, and I will be your guide. There are many wonderful sights to see. But now I must take my leave of you, Miss Brown. Thank you for your company and this wonderful interlude.” He bowed. “I shall see you soon, as I am to start work on the portrait any day. I hope we can walk out again together and enjoy the fine London weather?”
“I shall look forward to that, Mr. Diard.”
He was a nice man she thought watching him walk away. Her lapse in concentration proved calamitous. Walter tugged hard on his leash when a bird flew out of the trees, and broke free.
“Botheration!”
The dog galloped down the path, and to her horror jumped the gate at the end. He then disappeared across the street. Dimity scooped up Romulus and ran after him.