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Kendal

Page 13

by Sasha Cottman


  Things were at a delicate stage. He and Mercy were lovers. And while he was certain about his feelings for her, he was not so sure that she fully reciprocated them. The memory of Mercy walking away after he had told her he loved her still caused him constant pain.

  He wanted to marry Mercy. He wouldn’t be the first nobleman to marry outside his social class. Others had married actresses, some courtesans. But even he had to admit to never having heard of a duke’s son taking the daughter of a piano tuner for a wife.

  There is always a time for a first. And as long as Phillip remains the heir, my choice of wife should not be a problem. It is my son who will one day take the title of duke.

  He’d be perfectly content to go and live in the countryside at the family estate. He and Mercy could compose music together, and in their spare time, make plenty of babies to secure the family line. Getting his parents used to the idea might be a tough task, but if he and Mercy were determined and united in purpose it was possible.

  But before he could go making mention of her to his father, he had to get Mercy to believe that he truly loved her, and that love could conquer all.

  “I can get tickets for you and your father. Even a couple of extra ones for your friends,” said Kendal.

  Mercy shook her head. If she showed up at home with tickets for the Noble Lords charity concert in hand, her father would start to ask questions. Questions about why Lord Kendal Grant was giving her special treatment.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea,” she said.

  Kendal leaned over on the piano stool and brushed a kiss on her cheek. He had become quite comfortable with sharing small tokens of affection with her whenever they were composing new music. She loved it when it was only the two of them in their private haven of the ballroom at Follett House. Where no one else could see them or knew what was developing between her and Kendal, what was growing stronger day by day.

  But them being anywhere near one another in public was a different matter entirely. Here, she could control things . . . mostly. Out in the world, society’s rules governed. And those rules dictated that she and Kendal would not form an acceptable friendship, let alone a couple.

  “Why not? You have worked on some of the pieces I am going to ask the Noble Lords to play at the concert; it’s only fair that you should get some recognition for your contribution,” replied Kendal.

  It would be nice, but no.

  When the summer was over, and Kendal had moved back to Banfield House, this secret affair would have run its course. It was better that she maintained the boundaries now. If she didn’t, this could all come to a very ugly end for the both of them. But how to explain that to Kendal?

  “Let’s leave things as they are; a secret. The knowledge that you are playing our music is sufficient, Kendal. It is more than I would have ever had if I hadn’t met you. When you perform at the concert, just keep me in your heart. Know that I will be thinking of you.”

  The frown on his face was enough to tell Mercy that Kendal didn’t like her response. He was a man not used to being told no. Kendal came from a world where others lived to do his bidding and to serve. “Why won’t you come?” he pressed.

  Mercy moved along on the seat and got to her feet. It was time to reinforce those boundaries. It might hurt him now, but it would save them both a lot of pain in the future.

  “Because I don’t belong. I don’t have the money for a pair of boots. So, if I start handing tickets out to fancy theatres, people are going to get suspicious.” She lifted her foot, displaying her scuffed up and tatty boots for his perusal.

  Kendal scowled at the sight and Mercy sighed. Had he never noticed the terrible state of her footwear before?

  “Why do you think I took this job? It most certainly wasn’t for the hour-long walk that it takes to get here every morning. No, I need boots, and my father said if I kept tuning your piano, I could have the coins.”

  Kendal’s look of disappointment froze on his face. “Is that why you keep coming? To buy new boots?”

  She screwed her eyes shut, frustrated that he didn’t seem to comprehend what she was trying to say. Instead of him accepting that it was not socially acceptable for the two of them to have any sort of public connection, he was more worried about her motivation for continuing to visit Follett House. He was taking her use of his money to heart.

  “To be honest, yes, I come here so I can eventually afford a new pair of boots. But that is not the only reason. I mean . . .”

  With a huff, he got up from the piano and started shuffling sheets of music about. Some fell to the floor, but he ignored them. Mercy stood and waited while a clearly unhappy Kendal indulged in what could only be described as a small tantrum.

  With the rest of the papers held in his left arm, he walked over to her, put his hand in his pocket and took out some coins. “For your services, Miss Wood,” he said curtly.

  Mercy moved quickly to hold out her hand and catch the coins. One fell to the floor, where it bounced then rolled under the piano. She had said the wrong thing and now he was punishing her.

  She hitched up her skirts and dropped to the floor, her arm outstretched to collect the wayward farthing. Tucking it into her pocket, Mercy blinked back tears. In his anger, Kendal had just treated her exactly as he should have done all along: as a tradesperson for hire. It had been a foolish thing for her to allow the lines of their working relationship to blur.

  I have been a damn fool.

  Sliding on the highly polished floor back out from under the piano, Mercy did her best to ignore Kendal’s outstretched hand. She shook her head. “Thank you, Lord Grant, I can stand on my own. I’ve been doing it for some time now. I don’t need your help.”

  “Mercy,” he growled.

  He put his arms around her waist and pulled her to her feet, wrapping her up in his embrace. Sheets of music scattered to the floor.

  “I was a pompous arse and I am sorry. So bloody sorry. You must know, I want our love to be more than just a fleeting thing. We are meant to be together; it is our destiny. I love you, Mercy. I beg of you, please tell me that all of this, us, means more to you than just a pair of boots.”

  His lips were on hers before she had the chance to answer; his tongue swept into her mouth. Mercy gave in and clutched at the lapels of his jacket. Her love for Kendal swept away all notions of her being sensible. In her head she was sure she could hear the sound of an orchestra as it struck up a grand romantic tune.

  She had given up the fight. She would take whatever he offered her for the time they had remaining—create as many beautiful memories as they could in the next few weeks. He loved her and she loved him.

  And however long this love affair lasted, it would have to be enough. There would come a time when they would be forced to face the reality of their situation, of the world they both lived in and its demands.

  “I care deeply for you, Kendal. I do, but you must know a future where we are anything but secret lovers is impossible.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kendal sat back and looked at his friends. “What do you think?”

  Callum got to his feet and applauded, followed quickly by Reid and Owen. The grins on their faces had Kendal smiling. His fellow Noble Lords left their places at the side of the stage at the Sans Pareil theatre and walked over to where Kendal sat at the piano.

  “That is a brilliant piece of music. I particularly liked that lively little bit in the middle—it adds a spark to it. Audiences will love it,” said Callum.

  Kendal’s smile grew bigger. The spark had been Mercy’s idea. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that she had a great ear for what sort of music would have people tapping their feet. He had dubbed it the Tipsy Toad factor, which Mercy found highly amusing.

  “I want to play it at the charity concert. Mercy and I wrote the piano parts together; and I have created pieces for both flute and violin. I would like to eventually turn it into a song, but I figured you have enough already on your pla
te, Reid,” replied Kendal.

  Reid nodded. They had all agreed that his focus for the show should remain on his efforts to make the transition from baritone to tenor. That was a big enough job for anyone.

  “Your piano tuner has quite the gift for composition. So that is what the two of you have been up to each morning,” added Owen.

  Kendal’s smile dimmed a tad. Owen was the only other member of the group who had ever written music, and his thoughts regarding Mercy’s abilities were appreciated. What was not so welcome was the undertone of disapproval. Owen might well be one of London’s most notorious lotharios, but he had always made it plain that he would never touch a woman of Mercy’s class.

  “I think she has talent, and I want to help her develop it,” replied Kendal.

  Reid and Owen exchanged a look which threatened to turn Kendal’s mood dark.

  Don’t any of you fucking well dare say a thing about Mercy and my relationship being inappropriate.

  “The music is good; it’s magnificent. All I ask is that you tread carefully when it comes to Miss Wood,” said Reid.

  Kendal let his breath out slowly, doing his all to keep calm. Reid in particular had no right to speak. He had gone and had an affair with his singing teacher. He might well have married her, but Lavinia had still been a vulnerable widow with a young son when his fellow Noble Lord had crossed that particular line in their relationship.

  “Thank you,” replied Kendal.

  He wasn’t going to say as to which comment the thank you related; things between the members of the group were tense enough without him losing his temper and taking Reid to task. The last thing the Noble Lords needed this close to the big concert was a major falling out between the members.

  “I think we should play Kendal and Mercy’s composition,” said Callum.

  Kendal was relieved when Reid and Owen both nodded their agreement. His and Mercy’s music was in the concert. Now he just had to convince her to come to the show.

  With her ticket held tightly in her hand, Mercy waited in line to enter the Sans Pareil theatre. She had never seen so many people all in the one place; it was thrilling.

  Her heart raced. Somewhere in this theatre, Kendal and the Noble Lords were preparing to take to the stage. The buzz of the crowd was electric.

  She had worked to get her timing for this evening right. As far as her father was concerned, while he was out working late, she was at the Tipsy Toad, entertaining the patrons. Stan had not been pleased when she’d told him she could not make the tavern until after nine, but the promise of her staying on and closing up for him had helped smooth things over.

  Inside the theatre, she made her way to the ground-floor stalls and took a seat at the back. She wanted to be able to watch the show from an out-of-the-way place, not wishing to run into any members of either the Noble Lords or their families. Explaining her presence here tonight would only lead to an uncomfortable situation.

  As she settled into her soft leather seat, she caught the sound of a bow being pulled across the strings of a violin. Somewhere behind the plush red curtains which blocked the stage from view, Lord Owen Morrison was getting ready to perform. A gentle smile crept to her lips as the familiar notes of Vivaldi’s Winter for piano danced off the upper levels of the theatre circle.

  Kendal. You are in fine form tonight.

  Then the tune changed; and she put a hand to her mouth. He was playing their music. People, the world, were hearing something she had helped to create. It was both exciting and soul-humbling all at once.

  A portly, well-dressed gentleman took the seat next to hers. She glanced at him. His gaze ran over her hat and rough wool coat. He sniffed, then turned to his companion on the other side of him. He had clearly taken one look at Mercy and decided she was not worthy of his time or attention. Not even a polite ‘good evening.’

  Mercy was sorely tempted to tug on the sleeve of his fine evening jacket and tell him that one of the pieces of music he was going to hear tonight was something she had helped write but thought the better of it. The warm chestnuts in her pocket were more appealing than trying to explain to a stranger how a poorly dressed young woman had anything to do with the magic that was about to happen on stage.

  She pulled a roasted nut out of her pocket and peeled off its skin, all the while her gaze remained fixed on the stage curtain and excitement bubbled in her belly.

  Behind the curtain, Kendal sat at the piano taking deep breaths. To the side of the stage stood Reid, Lavinia, Eliza, and Jonathan. He smiled to himself. It was lovely to see Reid happy; Lavinia and her young son seemed to have brought joy into his friend’s life. Now, if Reid could just nail his singing tonight, his victory over Marco Calvino would be complete.

  I won’t let you down. Tonight, I am going to put my heart and soul into my music.

  Other than putting on a polished performance, the only thing that would make Kendal’s night a complete shining success would be the presence of Mercy. She had taken the single ticket for the concert with great reluctance, and he still wasn’t sure she would come to the show.

  When Reid finally bade his family farewell, and the rest of the Noble Lords had taken their seats, Kendal gave one last check of his piano and nodded. They were ready.

  The curtains opened and Reid strode to center stage and bowed. Kendal lifted his head and took in the sea of faces which stared back at him. Eliza had said it was a sellout, and from where he sat, there was not an empty seat in sight.

  Where are you?

  His gaze drifted over the audience, searching. His quest immediately halted when the audience got to their feet and acknowledged the arrival of the Prince Regent. Behind the prince walked the Duke and Duchess of Banfield. Disappointment speared into his heart at the stony looks on both his father and mother’s faces. Ophelia brought up the rear, a tight smile welded to her countenance. Phillip, who had promised to attend, was nowhere to be seen.

  So much for the Grant family being happy about tonight.

  When the crowd finally simmered down and retook their seats, Kendal went back to searching. He caught sight of Marco Calvino in the middle of one of the rows of the stalls, and he prayed that Reid had not seen him. A quick look at his fellow Noble Lord’s smiling face told him that not only had Reid already found Marco, but as far as he was concerned, the Italian no longer posed a threat to his performance. Good.

  Kendal’s search for Mercy continued. He was desperate to find her before he had to concentrate on the show.

  “Come on. You must be here. You promised,” he muttered.

  And then, just as he was about to give up, he spotted her blue hat right at the very back of the stalls. Her head was lowered, and she seemed busy with something. When she lifted her head, their gazes met.

  Kendal’s heart missed a beat. She was so beautiful. He would never tire of looking at her. She gave a sideways glance at the gentleman seated beside her before lifting her hand and giving Kendal a wave.

  Kendal turned his head to one side and showed the blue velvet ribbon which held back his hair. He then pointed to her. He wanted her to know that he was wearing the ribbon he had stolen from her after that first time they had made love. That she would be close to him while he played tonight.

  A grinning Mercy held a small object up in her fingers before popping it into her mouth. Kendal laughed. Mercy was clearly determined to enjoy tonight. She was eating roasted chestnuts and watching him play. Perfect.

  It made his night. For all he cared, Reid could sing like a cat, Callum could once more drop his flute, and even reliable Owen could break a string. It didn’t matter. Mercy was here. The woman he loved was sitting in the audience and he was about to debut a piece of music that the two of them had written.

  As his fingers hovered over the keys, a tide of emotion welled up inside him. This moment was the culmination of years of rehearsals and practice. Of wondering if he would ever meet a woman who shared his love of music.

  In Mercy, he had found th
at woman. This was what he had been waiting for all his life.

  What a night.

  Reid hadn’t sung like a cat; he had come close to upstaging Marco. He would never have the voice of an angel, but he had given the audience a glimpse of heaven as he sang. The Noble Lords had stood side by side on the stage and accepted the rapturous applause of the audience. Kendal had caught one last look from Mercy just before she disappeared in the crowd of standing patrons.

  His hopes to leave the stage and immediately go in search of her were dashed when the Prince Regent commanded that the four of them attend him in the royal box. Kendal followed Reid upstairs where they were to be presented to the prince.

  Prinny was positively beaming as the Noble Lords filed into the room. He had received a warm welcome from the crowd tonight, and Kendal sensed from the look on his face that he was busily thinking how best he could capitalize on the goodwill which came from the charity concert.

  “Ah, my Noble Lords. What a triumph!” The prince clapped his hands together, clearly pleased with himself, then turned to Reid. “I was thinking that the four of you would all love to serve me. So, I have decided that you shall perform at a series of royal variety concerts. The sort of money you have raised tonight for war widows and orphans is exactly what we need to help with injured war veterans. The shows will be at my royal command. Four shows here in London, one in Manchester, and one in Liverpool.”

  “That’s a lot of work for the Noble Lords,” replied Reid.

  It was exactly what Kendal was thinking. Six concerts were a tall ask, especially when both he and Owen were supposed to be getting about the business of taking wives in the very near future. Owen might well already have a fiancée, but Kendal sensed he was a long way from convincing Mercy of the truth of their relationship, let alone them discussing how they could forge a future together.

 

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