by Regina Scott
He started with some exercise at Gentleman Jackson’s. In the middle of a bout with Kevin Whattling he paused to think that his sprite would enjoy attending the next prize fight with him and nearly had his head taken off by Whattling’s punishing right.
He retreated to his tailor’s to be measured for a new coat. With one arm raised, he caught himself wondering whether Miss Collins would like the cut of it and had to be told twice to lower his arm so the tailor’s assistant could continue working.
He then tried inspecting the horses at Tattersall’s for a new mount, only to be distracted by a spirited mare that would be perfect for Miss Collins. The coat was the same color as her eyes.
He was clearly lost.
In desperation, he repaired to White’s. A quick check of the betting books only depressed him further. Some industrious chap had wagered a quid that Alex would marry Miss Templeman before the Season was out. Alex wanted to add a note about the intelligence of the fellow, but he supposed it wasn’t sporting to compare him to a door handle. After all, he maligned the handle.
He slouched in a wing chair in the corner of the club and tried to convince himself that he could spend the rest of his life without thinking of the adorable Miss Collins. Despite what he was sure was a gloomy appearance, several cronies attempted to join him. They should have been a marvelous distraction, but today he couldn’t seem to enjoy their witty conversation. He caught himself wondering if any of them would care if he simply disappeared off the face of the earth. Certainly none of his acquaintances, except perhaps the kind-hearted, ever-helpful Giles Sloan, would go to the trouble Katherine Collins had to ensure her stepsister’s welfare.
He had managed to scare them all away at last when an attendant brought him word from Lord Templeman.
“The exact statement his man gave was ‘it is done.’ Does this have some meaning to you, my lord?”
Assuring the fellow that it did, he hurried for the Collins’ house to confirm the news.
Bixby met him at the door. He wasn’t entirely sure of his reception, but the butler actually went so far as to wink at him in greeting. Alex smiled back then followed him to the familiar withdrawing room.
Standing in the corner was an elegant maple harp, the rose-tinted wood varnished to a high sheen. The graceful curve and pillar were decorated with scrolls, like the top of a Grecian column. The strings gleamed in the light from the windows. Emma was just finishing polishing it, and Miss Collins stood beside her in a pool of sunlight, inspecting her work. The glow made a ruddy halo about her auburn hair. He barely noticed as Miss Templeman rose from her spot on the settee to greet him.
“Have I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked.
His sprite and the plump housekeeper turned to him immediately. His heart leaped at the pleasure in the young lady’s gaze, but she lowered her head as if to hide the look from him. He felt a pang of guilt. Had she not forgiven him for the interlude in the garden after all?
Miss Templeman was more welcoming. “There can never be a bad time for you to visit, Lord Borin,” she assured him, moving to his side to catch up his hands and pull him toward the instrument. Her green-sprigged muslin gown swirled about her legs. “Look what came today! Katherine has her harp back.”
Their housekeeper gathered her things to leave, giving Alex a quick smile before departing. His sprite kept her head lowered.
“A lovely instrument, to be sure,” he replied, eyeing her for a response. “Almost as lovely as its owner.”
Two spots of color appeared on her cheeks. She turned to run a hand down the curve of the frame, the movement a lingering caress that boded no good for his honorable intentions.
“I cannot believe it is returned to me,” she murmured. “I suspect you may have had a hand in this, Lord Borin.”
“Now, why would you suspect that?” he asked with a smile.
She raised her head to eye him, curiosity evident in that gray gaze. “Could this favor be part of your discussion with Lord Templeman?”
Her stepsister was eying him as well. He ignored the question. “Let us not spend time in subterfuge today,” he said. “Would you favor us with a song, Miss Collins?”
She shook her head, regretfully, he thought. “It has been ages since I played. I only just tuned it.”
“Oh, Katherine, surely you haven’t forgotten how to play,” her stepsister chided. “At most you will be a little stiff. Lord Borin will not mind if you stumble a bit.”
But she would mind. He could see it in her eyes. What was it she had said last night – she didn’t wish to give him a disgust of her? In fact, she did not look willing to do anything that might put her in a less-than-perfect light. He wanted to assure her that there was nothing she could do that would change his respect for her, but they had an audience.
“Please, Miss Collins?” he urged. “It would mean a great deal to me.”
“You may change your mind after you hear me,” she replied. “But very well. If you two would take your seats.”
As Alex and Constance sat on two of the blue velvet chairs nearby, she perched on the lion-footed stool behind the instrument. Alex watched as she peeled off her gloves and set them aside. Carefully arranging her lavender skirts, she tipped the harp back until it rested against her shoulder. Alex had the feeling his head would nestle there just as nicely. She flexed her fingers and then poised them over the strings, elbow and thumb up, fingers curved, elegant. He could imagine those hands in such a position over his own body. He tried to focus on something else and found himself holding his breath, waiting for her to begin. Closing her eyes and nodding her head to a beat only she could hear, she began playing.
The melody flowed from the instrument like a brook tumbling over pebbles in the spring. The sound swept over him, enveloped him, pulled him along. If he had closed his eyes, he felt he could have floated. But he could not turn his gaze from the rapt expression on Miss Collins’ face. The music purged all tension, all concerns from her. She glowed with a happiness and peace he was sure few mortals possessed. It was as if she had exposed her soul, and it was so glorious a thing as to humble him.
When the last note died away, she met his gaze, and a tear trickled down one cheek. “Thank you, my lord,” she murmured. “I did not realize how much I missed that.”
He could not answer her. He swallowed the lump in his throat and merely nodded.
“Oh, Katherine, that was lovely,” her stepsister said beside him, wiping a tear from her own eye. “It took me right back to Sunday afternoons with Father. How he loved to hear you play.”
“How I loved to play for him,” she replied with a sad smile. “He had a way of listening that made me want to play my best for him.”
“Not unlike the way Lord Borin listens,” Miss Templeman said with a smile to him.
His sprite blushed. “Yes, quite like that.”
He felt warmed by her praise. “Thank you, both. I am honored if my presence contributed to that lovely song. You have great talent, Miss Collins.”
Her blush deepened. “Thank you, my lord.”
There was a commotion by the door, and her brother catapulted into the room, Sir Richard at his heels.
“You see, Uncle,” the boy proclaimed, “I told you I heard music. Katherine was playing.”
“Yes, so it seems. Good afternoon, Borin. Come to admire the beauty?”
He rather thought the man referred to the instrument rather than Alex’s fascination with his niece, but Miss Collins spoke before he could answer. “Lord Borin appears to enjoy the music of the harp.”
“A deaf man would enjoy music the way you play,” her uncle replied with a wink to Alex.
Alex returned his smile. “I quite agree, sir.”
Eric rushed forward to tug on her hand. “Play something else, Katherine.”
“Not now, Eric.” She put him back and rose as if to forestall further requests. “I must find my sheet music and practice first.”
His face fell.
> Sir Richard chuckled. “You’d do anything to get out of your studies, wouldn’t you, scamp?”
“Sums,” Eric confided to Alex and rolled his blue eyes.
“A decided nuisance, to be sure,” Alex replied, feeling his sprite’s gaze on him. “But I have found them to come in handy from time to time. Best to simply get them over with.”
Eric sighed. “I suppose.” Then he brightened. “But as you’re here, shouldn’t we have some refreshment first? Katherine? Uncle?”
Alex watched as Miss Collins and Sir Richard exchanged glances, this time of amusement. He felt another pang but knew it came from envy. He had never realized how lonely he’d been until seeing the Collins together. Their support and enjoyment of each other, even in the little things, called to his heart.
Miss Collins agreed to refreshments, and Miss Templeman took the boy in hand to go fetch them. Alex would have liked nothing better than to talk with Miss Collins, but Sir Richard eased himself into the chair her stepsister had vacated and Alex could not politely extricate himself. He sat and discussed the happenings on the Peninsula. He could not keep his eyes from straying to where his sprite was lovingly draping a dust cloth over her instrument. Her movements were graceful, her dark brow furrowed as if deep in thought. He wondered what she was thinking and had to recall himself sharply to the conversation when Sir Richard asked him a question.
He had not intended to spend so much time at the Collins’, but it was early evening before he took his leave. His heart was heavy as he realized he had no reason to call again. Indeed, should he continue to call, Templeman might take it in his head that Alex was continuing his suit. While he owed the man no favors, he had given his word, and he did not like to think how the fellow might torment Miss Templeman or Miss Collins. The best thing for all of them was for him to stay away.
His sprite seemed to sense it was the last time he would visit for she insisted on walking him to the door herself.
“Thank you again for seeing that my harp was restored to me, my lord,” she said. “I shall never forget your kindness.” She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek, soft and sweet. He was certain he would not have been able to stop himself from returning the kiss and far less chastely, if Bixby hadn’t been waiting to throw open the door for him. As it was he could do no more than take her hand.
She had evidently forgotten to replace her gloves, and he fancied he could feel the silk of her skin through his own. He bent and pressed a kiss against the back of her hand, breathing in the fresh scent of her. Her strong fingers tensed in his. On impulse, he turned her hand and pressed a second kiss more deeply into her palm. He heard her sharp intake of breath and knew she had been as affected as he was.
Rising, he offered her a smile. “Good-bye, Miss Collins. I wish you every happiness.”
“Good-bye, Lord Borin,” she murmured. “I wish you happy as well.”
The butler opened the door with a snap. Alex could find no excuse to prolong his stay. He accepted his hat from Bixby, clapped it on his head, and strolled down the steps to the street. Anyone watching, he was sure, would only see a cultured gentleman on his way to an evening of entertainment.
But he rather thought his life would not be sufficiently entertaining ever again.
Katherine hurried to the library to watch him go. He would not return. He had no reason. He would not court Constance, and he should not court her. He had far more important things to do. He would join the war effort and distinguish himself. If she ever saw him again, he would have a chest full of medals, and likely a beautiful bride on his arm.
The tears were coming, and she blinked them fiercely back. In so doing, she nearly missed the movement across the street. A dark shadow detached itself from the neighbor’s wall and slipped into place behind the viscount.
He was being followed.
She sucked in a breath. What should she do? He had accused her of not trusting his ability to manage his own affairs. Perhaps he knew of his shadow and simply led the creature into a trap. But he walked so calmly, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Was it just a ruse? She did not think him so skilled at subterfuge.
So, what if he didn’t know? What if the creature were a footpad, out to rob him, or worse? What if even now he walked to his doom?
She fled into the entry. “Bixby!”
“Yes, Miss Katherine?” Her man materialized out of the dark of the stair.
“Someone’s following Lord Borin. We must stop him.”
He did not question her, merely nodding, but she saw the light spring to life in his eyes. “I’ll go now.”
“Wait.” She snatched up her cloak from the hook beside the door. “Let me come with you.”
“It’s too dangerous,” he chided. He shrugged out of the coat that would mark him for their servant, snatched up Sir Richard’s cloak from the peg, and reached for the door.
“Entirely too dangerous,” Sir Richard agreed, coming down the stair. Katherine squared her shoulder to fight, but he put a hand on it as if to hold her in place. He nodded to the butler, who slipped out the door. Katherine sagged in defeat.
Sir Richard let go of her to pat her arm. “Have a little faith, girl. I know the men in your life have been a disappointing lot, but Lord Borin is made of stronger stuff. He will be fine.”
She nodded and let him lead her back to the withdrawing room. Eric and Constance were engaged in a game of nine pins. The rattle of the wooden pins against the polished board grated on her nerves. She wandered to the window and peered out into the dark night, trying to think of anything except the viscount. But everything reminded her of him. The sky overhead was a blue black as deep as his eyes. The breeze would be as soft as his breath on her cheek. The garden below was only a smaller version of the one in which they had walked, and talked, and kissed just the night before. She could not let him be harmed. She would never forgive herself if her schemes had led to this.
Bixby did not return until after a dinner Emma served and Katherine barely tasted. Then he called Sir Richard aside. Katherine hurried after them.
She could not help but notice that Bix looked weary. The light in his eyes was dimmed, and his mobile mouth was set in grim lines.
“I followed him home,” he reported to them. “So did his shadow. I could have waited for his lordship, but I thought it better to try to learn more about our shadow. He waited at the house, but then another fellow joined him and the first left. I went with him, all the way until he went into an apartment house. Never did get a good look at the chap. I thought I better report rather than wait any longer.”
Katherine found herself biting her lip and let it go with a sigh. “Then we do not know whether Lord Borin is safe.”
Bixby shook his head, sending a chill through her. His next words caused the last of her warmth flee.
“There’s something havey cavey going on, Miss Katherine. That spy I followed? He went home to roost at the same apartment house where I met Lord Borin’s mistress.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lord Templeman was pleased as he sat down to dinner that night. What had started as a beastly day had ended much happier.
It had been lowering to return Miss Collins’ harp. Not that he had any use for the great ugly thing. Far from it. It was one more bit of useless gilt cluttering up his otherwise impressive townhouse. The only reason he had held it this long was that it gave him great enjoyment to torment, even in small ways, those who kept him from his rightful fortune.
Whoever heard of separating the money from the title? He was Lord Templeman now; he had a duty to live up to his increased consequence. From the moment he had realized as a youth that the only thing that stood between him and the title was his weak uncle, he had patiently waited his turn. How he’d sweated when Constance’s mother had been pregnant. How pleased he’d been that the woman had not only birthed a girl child but thoughtfully died shortly thereafter.
He had done all he could to keep his cousin single. He never h
ad known what magic Miss Katherine Collins had woven when a music recital featuring her on a friend’s harp had brought her widowed mother and his cousin together. But at least any concerns of additional children were past at last. Now he just had to take the fortune from Constance. What did two chits straight from the schoolroom, a whey-faced boy, and a cripple know about handling money anyway? It was far better off in his hands.
And then there was Borin, who liked to think of himself as a great gentleman. Gentleman, ha! Templeman had seen how he looked at Miss Collins. Borin might be courting Constance’s fortune, but he lusted after the stepsister. Rather strange that. Templeman liked his women quiet, experienced, and substantial, but any idiot could see that in the Collins’ house, Constance was the greater beauty. Lord Borin obviously had different tastes.
But he didn’t much care what the man did with his eccentricities so long as he did not threaten the fortune. Templeman had returned the blasted harp, for all the good it had done him. There was Borin, back taking refreshments, neat as you please. The fellow had stayed longer than ever, or so Templeman’s runner relayed.
Well, two could play at this game. If Borin did not feel honor bound to keep his word, neither did Templeman. The battle lines had been drawn, and Templeman had no doubt he would be the winner for the simple reason that he had no intentions of fighting fairly.
He had two factors in his favor. No one seemed to suspect him behind the spy rumors, yet everyone was mad to learn more. And he had several fine Indian rubies in his possession with which to entice a certain ladybird to sing.
Somehow he thought her music would be far more interesting than anything Miss Collins could play on her harp.
