The Soul of a Storme

by SOOKOO, SANDRA

  Despite everything, a tug of compassion halted her urge to quit the room. “I will, but please, you and Aunt Maria are most welcome to attend the ceremony. Come to Hadleigh Hall. Two o’clock four days from now.” She allowed a small smile. “After all, you are my only family.”

  And she would gain a certain amount of satisfaction knowing that she’d become a countess and would suddenly have more stature than her baronet great uncle.

  “Of course.” He nodded. “Perhaps once you’re married, your husband and I might entertain a friendship.”

  “That is completely up to him.” Hopefully, Andrew would have more sense than to fall for such blatant social climbing.

  “Well, it’s scandalous what you’re doing,” her aunt said as she rocked to her feet. “You barely know the earl. People will gossip about your intentions.”

  Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out an ugly response. “I’ve not cared about the tabbies’ tongues all this time, and I don’t guess I’ll lose sleep over it now.” The smile she pasted on her face felt forced. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

  “One last thing,” her aunt said with a raised index finger. “Tomorrow is Sunday and your day off, so I won’t begrudge you that, but the following three days are to be spent with the children in intense learning. I won’t have you skimp on their education. Make the remainder of the plans on your own time.” A note of annoyance had crept into her voice.

  “Of course.” However, learning would only occur if the children were amenable to it.

  “My husband and I will tell the children you’re leaving… once you’re gone, but not before. I don’t want their routine upset. Do not say anything that will cause them sadness or distress,” she continued with a hard glint to her eyes.

  “If that’s what you think is best.” So there would be no chance for her to tell them a proper goodbye. No matter how much the two had been holy terrors, they would always think the worst of her. No doubt her “dear” relatives would perpetuate the story of Sarah’s abandonment. “Then I’d best plan out my lessons. If you’ll excuse me?” There was nothing she could do about the tales they’d tell or the marks on her reputation they’d make, but soon all of that would be in the past.

  My future lies ahead not behind.

  *

  Two hours later, Sarah stared at the gown that hung on one of the open doors to her wardrobe. Merciful heavens, I’m not certain I can do this. It was easily the most beautiful garment she’d ever seen, let alone owned. Emerald satin with a pleated, scooped bodice and short, puffed sleeves. It featured gorgeous gold embroidery around the hem and waist, and it had an overskirt that resembled two tulip petals that hung down the sides of the main skirt. By chance or fate, the alterations were minimal and the seamstress at the dress shop had finished it not an hour before. On the earl’s orders, it had been delivered to her great uncle’s house.

  Which made the upcoming wedding all too real.

  Andrew had also bought her a matching bonnet. The emerald satin ribbons decorating the straw brim were enhanced by a peacock feather. His largess had even included beautiful embroidered and beaded slippers, new gloves of the thinnest and most luxurious kid leather, plus a pelisse that complimented the whole ensemble. Not that it was cold enough for such a garment, but she couldn’t take her eyes off it all the same.

  I should have declined his generosity.

  But it had been too much fun letting someone pamper her for the first time in her life. Yes, her parents had given her gifts and saw that she was clothed properly, but coin had always been tight and purse strings were always cinched tightly. What he had done for her was something entirely different.

  Of course it was, for he wished her to look the part of a countess. It had nothing to do with any kindness he might feel toward her as a woman.

  Some of the excitement brought on by the arrival of all the parcels faded. In a handful of days, she would command that same sort of power, could have a whole wardrobe made with fine fabrics and all the fripperies she could desire. Never again would she wear drab, serviceable clothing. It made her head spin, and by turns the muscles in her stomach clench.

  This is folly.

  It’s madness!

  She knew nothing about the earl, except he had a terrible temper and he struggled with attacks of some sort. Something in him called to something in her, though, over and above the inexplicable desire that boiled between them any time they were together. Wasn’t that alone worth exploring?

  Yet desire—lust—wasn’t the same as love, devotion, or even affection, and it would soon burn out.

  Then what?

  Once more she glanced at the gown before transferring her attention out the window where the afternoon sun shone bright and the slight breeze blowing in through the half-opened panes beckoned. Well, it was a fat lot better than being on the street hoping to secure a new position once her great uncle’s children were grown.

  Oh, this is impossible to puzzle out!

  Too much overthinking was… too much. Needing to escape the endless loop of musings and second-guessing, Sarah darted across her room to the trunk at the foot of her bed. She cracked open a long, slim leather case and pulled an ivory flute from the red velvet depths. The instrument was her most prized possession and she’d had it for the bulk of her life. When the mind was turbulent, the only thing that could calm the chaos was music. And since lessons had been cut short to due to the children having gone visiting with their parents, she was free for the afternoon.

  With a lightness in her step and a smile on her lips, Sarah made her way outside. Soon, she’d found her favorite stand of four oak trees in the middle of a clover field. A large boulder in the shade was the spot where she often came to read, to practice her music, to remember, to dream… or sometimes to hide. Once she’d settled herself, Sarah played a few scales to warm her fingers. The coolness of the ivory and the pewter keys beneath her fingertips was familiar and exciting; the litany of the music she made easily carried her away to another time and place.

  Notes swirled around her. Sarah closed her eyes, imagined herself clad in a gown made of fine fabric. Jewels glittered on her fingers as she played on a softly lit stage in front of dignitaries and titled, powerful people of England. The smooth, mellow sound floated about her head, echoed in her soul, flowed through her body, and carried her along into her musings. Her ears rang from the applause as she concluded the piece, and as she laid her flute in her lap, Sarah smiled. Satisfaction shivered over her skin, for playing made her feel much like kissing the earl did.

  Interesting thought, that.

  “Good afternoon, Sarah.” The deep baritone greeting yanked her from the errant thoughts, and she popped open her eyes. He stood there, his strong form backlit by the sun. Then he moved close enough that she caught the look of surprise and admiration in his stormy eyes. “I hadn’t realized you had a talent for music.”

  Not knowing if she should talk of it or change the subject, Sarah merely nodded. “I’ve played the flute since a young girl. My father was so proud he’d procured it from France through one of the blockades.” She caressed the instrument, gaining confidence from it. In many ways, that flute had been her most constant friend over the years. She’d seen Andrew this morning, but her silly, fickle pulse jumped now that he was here.

  “You’ve kept up with practicing.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared at her with speculation in his gaze.

  “I have.”

  He glanced between the flute and her face. “You enjoy it?” A tiny note of wistfulness had entered his voice. But why?

  “I do. Very much so.” After a quick debate with herself, she added, “I’ve always wanted to tour with a music company and be onstage, sharing my love of the flute with a crowd. Perhaps bring them hope.” How would he react to the admission? “Or at the very least, hire my services out for coin.” She shrugged. “Imagine people being enthralled by my music in a drawing room.”

  “You
would soon woo them with whatever pieces you chose to play.” A tiny frown pulled down his lips. “Why didn’t you follow through with that dream?”

  “Saving to travel to London so I could audition was slow. Then my parents died, and life shifted. Survival came ahead of talent.”

  “That’s a shame. You would have made a sensation, no doubt.”

  She nodded, and heat went through her cheeks from the unexpected praise. “I think so too, but I won’t abandon the dream. Perhaps someday I’ll—”

  “You’ll have your duties as countess to keep you occupied.” An undercurrent of surliness echoed in his tone. “Now you’ll see what a burden the title is; it takes from you until there’s nothing left.”

  “Unless you learn to work with it instead of against it,” she countered in a quiet voice. Instead of expanding the conversation, Sarah fit the mouthpiece of the flute to her lips and proceeded to play one of her favorite passages from a Mozart piece. While her fingers flew and the notes filled the air, she kept her focus on Andrew.

  The change was extraordinary.

  He relaxed by increments, went so far as to lean a shoulder against one of the aged oak trees. The lines of strain faded from his face, making him look years younger. His stormy eyes softened. By the time she finished, the hints of a smile flirted with those impossibly chiseled lips. “I must admit, Sarah, that I could listen to this for a string of days and never find myself bored. You are quite good.”

  “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it.” Another round of heat filled her cheeks. Music was said to soothe the savage beast. Perhaps this was her purpose in life now, why she’d been destined to meet him. Once he forgot to hold onto his anger, he was rather pleasant and certainly handsome—and he could begin to heal. “Andrew?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Will you tell me about your family? You and I will wed in four days, and I’d like to hear about the people who are close to you.” Was she daring too much by pushing him against his apparent boundaries?

  “You know how I feel about them.” Warning rumbled in his voice.

  “I really don’t, since you won’t open up to me.” Sarah frowned as he pushed off from the tree. Would he leave when the discussion butted into the personal?

  “You are quite unrelenting,” he muttered.

  She snorted. “I rather think I’m inquisitive about my groom-to-be.” Resettling the flute in her lap, she looked at him. “If you are allowed to order me about—”

  “Without success, I might add—”

  “—Then I should be given the same right.” There was a certain amount of satisfaction in arguing with him, even as benign as this was.

  His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “Fine.” Andrew raked the fingers of one had through his hair, upsetting the perfect waves. “My mother is…” He cocked his head to one side. “Well, she’s the dowager countess, and she detests the moniker.”

  “I don’t blame her. Listen to the word as you say it.” She demonstrated and then shivered. “It conjures up images of an old woman.”

  Again, he almost smiled. “You will be the dowager someday too.”

  She pulled a face and stuck out her tongue.

  “My mother dotes on my brothers.”

  “How many do you have?” Finally, she would have a modicum of information about him.

  “Two. Finn and Brand.”

  “Odd names.”

  He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Their full names are Phineas and Hildebrand.”

  “Oh!” A giggle welled up and she couldn’t stop it. “How unfortunate for them.”

  “Indeed.” Amusement winked in his eyes.

  Sarah called herself back to the discussion at hand. “I’m certain your mother loves you as well as she loves them.”

  “Perhaps, but she’s rather out of sorts with me at the moment. Has threatened to write to my cousin and force me to sign a power of attorney to him so he can run the estate, unless I come up to the mark.”

  “Ah, now I understand your urgency.”

  “Indeed.” He pressed his lips together before continuing. “When I left, I was in a terrible temper and had said some horrid things about Finn.” Regret danced across his face.

  “Like what?” She enjoyed the peek into his life but knew he would cut that tenuous thread between them soon. For whatever reason, he wasn’t a man who liked sharing personal stories or letting anyone close.

  “Finn came back from the war injured—quite severely.” He rubbed his gloved fingers over his heart as he’d done in her presence twice now. “He’s in a Bath chair, paralyzed. I fear for his future, and Brand, from all accounts, will have a tough time of it as well. He lost an eye while serving.” The last was said on a gasp. The color faded from his face. “I let them fight out there without putting myself into danger like I should have.”

  The behavior he showed was more than displaying his temper; he was genuinely upset to the point of nearly having an attack of nerves. Finally, she was beginning to understand perhaps the first layer of his angst. “Don’t let the anger win, Andrew. Focus on me and keep talking.”

  The fleeting moment of peace broke. He looked at her with a curled lip. Rage flashed in his eyes, evident in the one hand he curled into a fist. “Don’t presume to dictate how I should live my life or conduct myself.” Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “I’ve done well enough without you.” His breath came in labored pants.

  “Is that true, though?” Sarah asked softly. “Those attacks don’t suddenly appear in someone’s life. I’ll wager you’ve struggled with them for some now, and with each passing day, each new responsibility you add, the weight you carry staggers you.” Slowly, so as not to startle him, she stood while he eyed her with suspicion. “On some level, didn’t you wish for this marriage because you want help but don’t know how to ask for it?”

  “I… I…” He pressed his hand to his chest, then clenched it and held the fabric of his shirt in his fist. He gulped for breath, edging backward until he put his free hand against a tree trunk. “I shouldn’t need it. My father never grappled with being the earl, so why am I?” Confusion filled his eyes, but the pleading at the back of those stormy depths cried out for her to do something that would ease his suffering.

  This was the most honest and open he’d been in her presence since they’d met. Her heart squeezed. “I suspect you didn’t know the truth of the matter, and I’m sure your mother was his biggest support.” When he sputtered, hovered somewhere between anger and despair, alternately fighting for breath as the attack went on, Sarah lifted her flute to her lips. She played another favorite passage, this time from a Beethoven sonata.

  By the time she finished, he’d visibly calmed and had control of himself once more. How interesting. She would need to explore the effect of music on him further. Perhaps that was how she’d reach past the walls he’d built around himself.

  “Do you want to talk about your family more?”

  He gave a curt shake of his head. “I do not.”

  That wasn’t unexpected, but she would practice patience. “Have you invited them to our wedding?”

  “I wrote, but the letter wasn’t posted until yesterday.” He didn’t leave the relative safety of the tree.

  “Sooner or later you will have to stop building your defenses to keep everyone out,” she said, hoping for a breezy tone as if his mess didn’t matter. “You don’t need to do any of this by yourself.” In a softer voice she added, “It doesn’t make a man weak to ask for assistance or even a shoulder to heft the load for a while.”

  He snorted and stared as if he didn’t know what to make of her. “It’s to protect them—you.” The chords of his neck worked with a hard swallow. “I’ve already hurt my family, Sarah. I pray to God I won’t hurt you as well.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to evolve from an angry man into a monster.” The waver in his voice went straight to her heart.

  “Then start with trust, Andrew. Let me in.” She held out her free hand.r />
  “Where are we going?” He bounced his gaze between her fingers and her face.

  “Nowhere. You can sit here with me and enjoy the fact that you’re alive for a purpose.”

  For long moments he regarded her with narrowed eyes. Finally, he came forward and slipped his hand into hers. “I’m not certain I know how to let go long enough to trust.”

  It was a start and a definite opening. While she thrilled at the advance internally, she kept her own counsel as she pulled him to the boulder and then sat beside him. “We shall tackle the problem together.” She squeezed his fingers in assurance. “For the moment, we’ll sit here in silence with no pressure, no demands, no deadlines, for the ability to relax is also an expression of trust.”

  A shuddering sigh was his only answer, but he didn’t release her hand.

  Sarah tamped on the urge to grin. There was hope for their union, she just knew it.

  Chapter Nine

  June 22, 1817

  Drew spent the past two days preparing to welcome a countess to Hadleigh Hall. In his mind it felt a touch odd, for his mother had held that spot for all the years that he’d been alive, but it was time to usher in a new era—his reign as the earl. For the first time he didn’t mind the need to make decisions regarding the household, for it meant Sarah would soon join him.

  His for a lifetime, if only in a marriage of convenience of sorts.

  Yet every minute he spent in her company revealed another facet to her personality. Yesterday when she’d played the flute for him, he’d been handed a huge surprise: the music had brought him a sense of calm. The longer she’d played, the lighter he’d felt. It was extraordinary, and he needed to explore it further.

  And he would in mere days.

  So he’d charged the housekeeper with creating a suite for a countess at the opposite end of the hall from his rooms. It had always been there, but his mother had never made use of it. In fact, the apartment was rarely used unless high born visitors came to the Hall. The collection of rooms contained a bedchamber, a sitting room, and a dressing lounge—the floorplan a mirror of his, but he’d personally chose the colors for the décor. The ivory and ivy-stamped striped wallpaper would remain, for it was whimsical and peaceful, so it had been only logical to fit the rooms out with shades of green.