Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

  ‘If I can distract you, all the better,’ he murmured, stepping close enough that his pant leg brushed her full sleeve.

  Finding his proximity as distasteful as she’d anticipated, she repeated, ‘I really prefer to turn the pages myself. If you would move away, please, my lord?’

  ‘And if it doesn’t please me? If I prefer to see you...disturbed by my nearness?’

  Marcella hesitated, not sure how to proceed. Aggravated as she was by his persistence, unless she gritted her teeth and allowed Hoddleston to remain, she’d end up causing a scene, either by jumping up and abandoning the instrument, or by demanding that he retreat.

  Before she could decide, she felt a touch on her other shoulder—and looked up to see Dellamont, smiling down at her. ‘Sorry I’m tardy, Miss Cranmore. A chatty acquaintance in the refreshment room detained me. But I’m very much looking forward to performing our duet.’

  ‘Duet?’ Hoddleston echoed, frowning. ‘Since when do you play, Dellamont?’

  ‘I’m a great lover of music—as all my friends know,’ he replied coolly. ‘If you would take a seat, Hoddleston, we need to prepare. The guests are waiting.’

  For a moment, the Baron hesitated, as if ready to dispute further. Then, probably realising that doing so under the interested gaze of dozens of eyes would only make him look ridiculous, he gave Marcella a stiff bow. ‘You may have escaped for the moment, my dear,’ he said in her ear. ‘But I’ll be waiting.’

  ‘I shall never be his “dear”,’ she muttered as she slid over to make room for Dellamont on the piano bench. Not realising, until her anger faded, how difficult it was going to be to not become pleasurably distracted with the Viscount seated so close beside her on the small, narrow bench.

  Heavens, she might well play all the notes wrong!

  Trying to quell her nervousness, she murmured, ‘Thank you for the rescue. It was a rescue, wasn’t it?’

  Dellamont nodded. ‘I saw Hoddleston approach and kept watch. Since it appeared you were trying to persuade him to depart without success, I decided to intervene.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I only hope you have something less complicated to play than the Beethoven, or I shall embarrass myself completely.’

  She felt the hairs on her bare neck and shoulder quiver in the slight draught created as he took his seat and suppressed a sigh. He wasn’t the only one who needed to play a simple piece that demanded less skill and concentration.

  Savouring the usually forbidden closeness, she said, ‘Do you sing?’

  ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Then how about “Robin Adair”? I have the music for that.’

  Dellamont blew out a breath of relief. ‘Yes, I could manage that.’

  Marcella pulled the music from the portfolio she’d brought and gave it to the Viscount, who arranged it on the holder. ‘Would you prefer to play the bass or treble clef?’ she asked.

  ‘It would be more manly to do the bass,’ he teased. ‘Then we’d not have to change places.’

  She suppressed the naughty thought that if they did change sides, she might be able to slide even closer to him. Chiding herself to behave, she said, ‘Let’s play through one verse before we start singing. Tell me when you’re ready.’

  He lifted his hands into position. ‘Any time now.’

  After counting off two measures’ worth of beats, she nodded and they began.

  It took them a few minutes to fully coordinate their fingering, but after that, they continued playing in perfect sync. Dellamont had a pleasant singing voice, a deep, rich baritone that matched well with her bright soprano. By the time they finished the song, Marcella was thoroughly enjoying herself.

  ‘Thank you!’ she said as they lifted their fingers from the keys to enthusiastic applause. ‘I don’t often get to play duets. That was delightful.’

  Nodding towards the assembly, he said, ‘The audience seems to want an encore. If you have another selection you think I could play.’

  ‘I would love to! I’ve collected music for a great many airs, ballads and glees. My grandfather prefers them to the more complex works of the major composers.’ Spying one particular piece, she seized it with a grin. ‘In honour of our bargain, “No One Shall Govern Me” would be perfect, if we repeat only the first verse. Perhaps Hoddleston—and the assembled company—will take the hint.’

  After scanning the lyrics, Dellamont laughed. ‘You’re right, it is perfect for us. I don’t know the tune, but the music looks simple enough. Hum it through for me once and I think I can manage.’

  She sang through a verse softly, then said, ‘That’s the tempo. Let’s play through a verse first, like last time, and then sing the first verse three times.’

  ‘You don’t wish to sing all the verses?’

  ‘And reach the dreary conclusion that Laura becomes a sad old maid who wishes she’d allowed herself to be governed after all? Definitely not!’

  He grinned. ‘I thought not. Very well, Miss Independent. Let’s confound the assembly.’ After assuming a playing position, he nodded.

  They played through the music once, then began to sing.

  When young and thoughtless

  Laura said,

  ‘No one shall win my heart’;

  But little dreamt the simple maid

  Of love’s delusive art.

  At ball or play

  She’d flirt away

  But always said

  ‘I’ll never wed,

  No one shall govern me.

  No, no, no, no, no, no,

  No one shall govern me.’

  By the time they’d sung the verse the third time, Dellamont was chuckling. Looking over at the audience, who after they finished wore faintly puzzled expressions as they clapped politely, Marcella had to choke down laughter of her own.

  ‘I only like the first verse,’ she told the assembly. ‘Thank you for your kindness. Now we must cede our place to another performer.’

  They rose from the bench, Dellamont offering his arm as they walked away. ‘Having gone above and beyond your duty, you can return me to Lady Arlsley. Thank you again for the rescue—and a very enjoyable duet!’

  ‘You are very welcome. I enjoyed playing with you, too.’

  Marcella was resigning herself to losing the pleasure of his conversation—and the delicious frisson of awareness of his nearness—but just before they reached where Lady Arlsley was sitting, he halted. ‘Hoddleston is still watching. Perhaps I should sit with you for a while to make sure you don’t need any further reinforcements.’

  Marcella made a wry grimace. ‘From the thundering look he gave you when you forced him to walk away, you might be the one needing help.’

  Dellamont laughed shortly. ‘Hoddleston is no match for me with fists or swords and he knows it. He’ll stay out of my way. I can assure you. But I’ll stay long enough to make sure he doesn’t try to take out his displeasure at being outmanoeuvred on you.’

  ‘Are you sure society won’t think I’ve enjoyed...too much of your company for one evening? I’d not have you being pressured by public opinion.’

  ‘You should know by now I’m never pressured by public opinion. If my father’s rants are unable to make me conform, the expectations of mere acquaintances are hardly likely to affect me.’

  ‘Very well. As long as you think it’s...safe.’

  Whether it was safe for her might be a more pertinent question. It was all well and good to spend time with Prince Charming as long as one remembered one was living a fairy tale. Something that could become increasingly hard to keep in mind, if she spent too much time with him.

  Soon she’d be returning to her own world—the world she preferred. Hopefully to entice a man she’d admired for half her life to make her his wife and sweep her into a future more rich and rewarding than anything the ton could ever offer.

  Somehow
, she was no longer quite so excited about the prospect.

  ‘How kind of you to play with Miss Cranmore, Lord Dellamont,’ Lady Arlsley said approvingly as they took seats adjacent to her. ‘And how well you play.’

  ‘You are too kind. But Miss Cranmore is a superior musician. Her talent made up for my lack.’

  ‘What a perfect couple you made, performing together! Ah—there’s my dear friend, Lady Collingwood, beckoning to me. I’ll just be a minute.’

  ‘If she is any more syrupy-sweet, I think I shall be ill,’ Marcella muttered as her sponsor walked across the room.

  ‘She does rather empty the butter boat.’

  ‘After pouring it over the sugar cone.’

  Smiling, Dellamont said, ‘My compliment about your playing wasn’t empty praise. Even though the pieces we performed were simple, your technique is admirable. And just the fact that you would attempt the Beethoven leaves me in awe.’

  ‘I’ve had plenty of practice. Father always found music soothing. When he was devastated after my brother’s death, I began playing for him every night. Mama encouraged me, too, after she saw how much it seemed to help him relax.’

  ‘So you were a congenial family group, entertaining each other in the evening.’

  She nodded. ‘Very. We still spend the evenings together, me playing while Father reads and Mother does her needlework. If Father brings home an associate who enjoys music, I’ll play for them, too. Did—does your family not gather together after dinner to play cards or read aloud?’

  He laughed shortly. ‘When I was growing up, we children dined in the nursery. When I returned after being away at school and was considered old enough to have a place at the dinner table, a meal conducted mostly in silence was followed by my mother retreating to her rooms while I was either dismissed, or beckoned to Father’s study, if he wished to harangue me about some lapse while he drank his brandy.’

  No wonder he had so little taste for family life, Marcella thought, grieved by all he had missed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘It...it shouldn’t be like that.’

  ‘From what the other boys said about their lives when we were at school, such an arrangement wasn’t that unusual. Except most of their families had more guests to dine with them. Montwell Glen is isolated enough that Papa generally goes to London when he wishes to consult friends or needs to attend the Lords. There are no families who live nearby of sufficient rank for him to consider them worthy of an invitation to an earl’s table.’

  ‘When you do eventually marry, you must choose someone who will make your domestic life much more enjoyable.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve had little enough evidence that such households exist, but I won’t dispute your memories of your own experience. Is...is that the sort of home you expect to establish with your engineer?’

  ‘I certainly hope to. Austin became indispensable to us all after my brother’s death. He carried the load at the office while Papa was too grief-stricken to work, watched out for Mama, and was so incredibly kind and attentive to the lost little girl I’d become. Having him nearby is like...like being in a wrapped in a warm shawl before a cosy fire on a bitter winter day. One feels safe, comfortable and cared for. Of course, he does still treat me like Papa’s little girl. I... I hope he will allow me to continue working in the office if we marry, but of course, since he hasn’t as yet indicated he wishes to marry me, I’ve had no opportunity to enquire about that. If he should not want me there, I suppose I shall have to accept it, and be content.’

  He angled a probing glance at her. ‘Can you be content? With comfort and kindness, instead of the stimulating intellectual partnership you’re looking for?’

  A question she often asked herself—and had such difficulty answering, she usually pushed away thinking about it. ‘I suppose I shall have to be.’

  ‘Content with comfort, rather than...passion?’

  She looked up sharply, a zing of awareness jolting through her. It was well and good to dream about kisses...about closeness and more. Giddy, tempting—and far too dangerous.

  When she looked away without answering, he said, ‘I might not know much about domestic harmony, but I do know one should not live without passion. Especially not someone with your intelligence and fire.’

  ‘That’s easy enough for a man to say!’ she flung back. ‘You can behave as you wish, without facing consequences. It’s very different for a female.’

  ‘Not so different,’ he argued. ‘A gentleman, too, has to marry in the end.’

  ‘Ah, but before he does, he can have the pleasure of riding about England where and when he chooses, answering to no one. No doubt catching the eye of any number of appreciative females.’

  He grinned. ‘You think I catch the eye of appreciative females?’

  ‘I think, unless they are of invincible virtue, they would be quite vulnerable.’

  ‘How invincible is your virtue?’

  ‘Until now, I’d thought it infallible.’ Breaking free of his intent gaze to stare down at his hand beside hers, so very conscious of his beguiling nearness, she said frankly, ‘Now I’m not so sure. So you mustn’t tempt me.’

  He tipped her chin back up to face him, smiling faintly. ‘Sadly, you are right. I mustn’t tempt you—or myself. Not if we want to salvage friendship once your Season ends. I do look forward to meeting you again, perhaps chatting in your father’s office when I come to enquire about the progress on the Great Western.’

  ‘I would love to see you! I could make you tea. Go over engineering drawings with you.’

  ‘We must make it happen. But I see Lady Arlsley returning, so I should take myself off before I truly outstay the acceptable interval. I’ll linger in the refreshment room, watching, until you depart, just in case. Signal if you should need me.’

  ‘That’s very kind.’ Much as she wanted to press him to stay, she knew it was time for him to quit her company. There were already far too many eyes avidly watching them—probably with mental timepieces ticking in their ears to calculate just how long he remained chatting with her. ‘I shall probably have to suffer through a few minutes of conversation with Hoddleston, but with Lady Arlsley so delighted by the continuing attentions of a far greater prize, she’ll not want to risk discouraging your pursuit by seeming too ardent about encouraging his.’

  As he stood, she said, ‘Thank you again for playing duets with me. Perhaps we can play again some time.’

  ‘I can’t imagine where, but I’d enjoy it. We must look for an opportunity.’

  ‘We should. Good evening, my lord.’

  ‘You’ll ride again tomorrow? Maybe I can accompany Lady Margaret. Restrain her from saying anything too outrageous.’

  Marcella laughed. ‘I wish you luck with that.’

  He smiled back. ‘Thank you—for an evening that was much more enjoyable than I expected.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ After pressing her fingers briefly, he bowed and walked away.

  Marcella cradled her tingling hand. Dellamont wasn’t hers and wasn’t going to be. She needed to school herself to let him go without feeling this pointless sense of regret.

  Nor did she dare want him to be hers...since in the unlikely event he wanted her, any fairy-tale dreams of happiness would surely be doomed by all the obstacles such an ill-matched couple would face. A fact she needed to emphasise to her sometimes heedless heart.

  Better to focus her attention instead on thinking about venues and opportunities at which she might meet him in future as a friend, at her father’s office or elsewhere.

  Such meetings being the only prudent way to maintain any contact with him once their bargain ended.

  CHAPTER TEN

  In the morning two days later, Marcella rode to the park, her groom trailing her. She was looking forward to seeing Dellamont, who had been unable to accompany her and Lady Margaret yesterday, but
had promised his sister to attend her this morning.

  As they trotted along, she mulled over the brief conversation she’d had with Austin Gilling when she stopped by the office to have tea with her father the previous afternoon.

  Gilling had declined to join them, but as she was leaving, he rose from his desk to walk her out, asking how she was enjoying her debut. When she replied drily that she was enduring it, he said, ‘So you don’t intend to marry an aristocrat?’

  Had she detected an interest deeper than politeness in that enquiry? ‘That was my mother’s dream, not mine,’ she replied. ‘I entered society to please her and Grandfather. My hope since I started assisting Papa at the office has been to wed someone from my own world...the world of engineering. Someone I esteem and trust.’

  She could have hardly made her intention clearer without actually proposing to him. Hoping she hadn’t gone too far, she held her breath until he finally replied, ‘Sometimes it’s difficult to realise the sweet little girl who sobbed on my shoulder after her brother’s death has grown up. It was a...shock to learn you’d embarked on a debut.’

  ‘A shock to me, too. But even Papa agrees I must wed some time.’

  Pausing by the door, his fair face colouring, he said, ‘I think it quite likely that your hopes for a husband from the engineering world will be realised.’

  Then, bowing, as she left.

  Had he been hinting he himself would help her realise it? Had she detected a change in the way he treated her—something deeper, more personal than the avuncular affection he’d always shown her since childhood? Or was that only her wishful imagining at work?

  At the least, he’d seemed to say he had been shocked into recognising she was now a woman grown. Perhaps if he’d not decided what he wanted to do about that fact by the time she left society, the calls she hoped Dellamont would make to her father’s office would prompt him into further action.