Music Master

by Barbara Miller

  “No, I am glad to know. His tolerance is endearing.” Leighton smiled at her. “What do you think? Is this deep enough?”

  She glanced at the basket. “He is big for a house cat.”

  Leighton dutifully dug a little deeper. He wiped the back of his hand across his brow, leaving a smear of dirt behind. Maddie pulled out her handkerchief but restrained herself from cleaning his face. They were no longer children. Why was she so much more conscious of that than Leighton? “That should do it,” she said.

  “Are you going to say anything?” Leighton asked as he roughly pulled the basket toward him. “I remember that the ceremony for your rabbit went on a good half hour and we had bouquets of flowers.”

  Maddie smiled at the memory. “I do not know what would be appropriate for a cat. Perhaps Rest in—”

  The basket Leighton was holding suddenly exploded and a ferocious gray striped body screamed and ripped across Leighton’s face, knocking him backward onto the mound of dirt.

  “Leighton! Good God!” Maddie jumped across the hole and tried to pull his hands away to examine the injury.

  “What happened?” Leighton asked, blinking and raising his head groggily. “Who screamed? Are you hurt?”

  “Your poor face. It was the cat. He was not dead after all.” Maddie used her handkerchief to blot at the welling scratches across his left cheek. Then she saw he had a like set on the right side of his neck and gnawed her lip at her inadequate ministrations.

  Leighton stared at her a moment, then went off into a peal of laughter that made it impossible to dab at the scratches. Finally Maddie succumbed to the infection of his mirth and knelt over him, laughing more in relief that he was not seriously injured than in any humor in the situation.

  “Be serious, Leighton. You are wounded,” she said, grasping him by the cravat and scrutinizing his face. Something happened then. Some unspoken word passed between them and she hesitated as she saw him raise himself enough to kiss her. Not only that, he drew her to his chest as she got lost in her single-minded desire to be close to him. She felt open, in accord with him, as though all the constraint of their many separations had been banished. Moreover she felt an intense longing for him. Had the effort of keeping away from him created this flood tide of passion? His kiss was hungry and demanding and she wanted to taste him in return. When she finally drew back, she stared at him in amazement.

  “What just happened?” she asked, her lips throbbing and a deep ache of longing growing inside her chest.

  “This is what I have been trying to tell you since I met you today.” Leighton shook his head and grinned at her. “I love you.”

  “But Leighton.” She pulled back and tried to escape his arms. “You do not fall in love in an instant,” she scoffed.

  “But I have always loved you. You said yourself, we are not children anymore. We are perfect together.”

  “Perfect? We won’t be allowed.” Maddie struggled in his arms, feeling like a rabbit in a snare, then stilled. It would be perfect. As she gazed at Leighton, he raised his head and kissed her again, his lips warm and tender. With her eyes closed like this and his arms around her, she could imagine for once being his wife, being with him always.

  It was the thing she wanted more than any other future but would it happen? No matter how much she wanted Leighton, they would throw such obstacles in his path that he might give up.

  “You are nearly of age,” he said, as she lay against his chest. He caressed her cheek with the knuckle of one finger. She raised her head to look at him. He was staring at her with those striking blue eyes that looked as though they were lit from within.

  “It isn’t just my father we have to deal with. What about your mother?”

  “I shall simply tell her we mean to be married. She will see that it is perfect. I need a wife, one who likes music. You have already been performing the duties of Lady Longbridge, so the tenants will accept you. I promise I will be a tolerant husband who does not even mind an occasional comatose cat.”

  “But Papa will never countenance the match, not in his parish.” She sat up and tried to disentangle Leighton’s fingers from her long unruly hair.

  “He does not own you,” Leighton said, helping Maddie as she scrambled to her feet. He heaved himself up and stepped out of the hole, reaching a hand down to pull her up.

  “But you don’t know what it is like, how he hammers at one for the slightest transgression, even things that are not sins.”

  “All the more reason to escape him.” Leighton embraced her again and kissed her protectively on the forehead this time. She sheltered in his arms and wished she could stay there forever.

  “I shall call on your father tomorrow. When will be a good time?”

  “I tell you, he has changed since Mother died. He won’t like it.”

  “Why not? He has always had a soft spot for me.”

  “Only because you have some facility with the keyboard and can transpose music. By some of the things he has said, I take it he has never really trusted you.”

  “Why not?”

  “You are like your father.”

  “But my father was a good man,” he whispered in her ear.

  “A nobleman, a man of leisure. ‘He toils not, neither does he spin’.”

  “But Father toiled a great deal and so do I. Does your papa think it easy to run an estate, find safe employment for all the men and boys, make sure all the woman and children are fed?”

  “No, he has no idea. All he knows is that you are in London most of the year. He scarcely stirs from the house.”

  “I see. You do all his duty visits to the sick. Well, he had better listen to me. I will not have him turning you into a drudge.”

  “But he needs me to keep house for him,” Maddie insisted.

  “We shall hire him a housekeeper.” Leighton let go of her to gather up the tools. “You will see.”

  “I still think—oh, the cat.”

  Leighton glanced through the woods. “What shall we do about it? If he shows up on old Mrs. Horwith’s windowsill, he might give her apoplexy.”

  “No, I think she will merely regard his return from the dead as a miracle. It will be the talk of the village for weeks. Perhaps she will even tell Papa about it and he will preach a sermon on Lazarus.”

  Leighton laughed and carried the tools back to the shed where they had tethered Jasper. “You evade my question. When shall I call?”

  Maddie handed him his hat and coat. “One time will be as bad as another.” She looked toward the church and the rectory cottage with dread, lest her father be watching them.

  “I shall come at one o’clock tomorrow, after luncheon but before his nap—take him at his weakest.”

  “And what will you do when he says no?”

  “You are such an alarmist, Maddie. Trust me. He may be a hard man but he will put your welfare ahead of his own comfort.” Leighton kissed her once more before he mounted Jasper.

  Maddie thought it felt like the hasty kiss of a soldier leaving to battle some foe. Well, Leighton was going home to break the news to his mother. “Shall I tell him why you are calling tomorrow?”

  “If you wish. You might put to him the advantage of your marrying the landlord. What a lucky accident that we met today. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to steal a chance to talk with you alone. It is as though it was meant to be.”

  Maddie stared after Leighton as he rode off with a wave of his hand.

  She waved back numbly. She had not mentioned that he always jumped the hedge in that particular place and that she had seen him riding the fields and had taken that lane to wait for him. She had only wanted to chide him about his neglect of his tenants. She had not meant to kiss him or to awaken all those feelings she had pressed into the back of her heart so carefully, like dried flowers in a book. She had always loved Leighton, even when he was at his most provoking. Talking to him was a joy even when they argued.

  Could he be right, that her father woul
d see the advantage of her marriage to his patron? It was true that her father had treated Leighton kindly when he had tutored him as a boy but something had changed when her mother had died. Her father treated everyone badly now. She had been fifteen, well able to take care of the house but her father had never recovered from that tragedy.

  What had happened today was not meant to be. She did not believe in divine intervention, not for the good of people anyway. She had only wanted to see Leighton again, to talk to him and satisfy herself that he was well. She had never meant to thrust herself and her problems onto him.

  The cat she had not taken into account. She supposed that all the jostling and swinging had revived his aging brain and encouraged him to breathe again. Perhaps there was some force at work here but she was not sure it was a good one. As for her father countenancing the match, she shook her head as she crossed the cemetery toward the old rectory.

  “It would take a miracle.”

  * * * * *

  When Maddie dropped her basket and hung up her cloak in the kitchen, she heard her father’s footsteps come as far as the open door of his study.

  He was in his waistcoat and hooked his thumbs in the armholes as though he had caught her out at something. His springy crop of iron-gray hair made him loom taller than he actually was.

  “You are late from your errands. Why do you persist in visiting the poor all the time when you have nothing for them?”

  “Someone should check on them.” She went to poke up the fire.

  Resentment welled up in Maddie, for she always had something for them, food, cloth, medicine. She disliked having to keep Leighton’s money a secret, having to spend it slowly so as not to awake suspicions among the tradespeople. Fortunate that she was the one who shopped for her father. He was unlikely to get into casual conversation with the butcher or any of the other local residents. He barely greeted them on Sunday. The only gossip he heard was from the plowmen or stable hands.

  She had managed to dispense Leighton’s largesse without detection and now her mission was over. Leighton was back and there was little for her to do but wait for him. Though she felt relieved, she also felt…what?

  Her father was still standing there watching her. “Where were you?”

  “I was helping Mrs. Horwith…with her dead cat.”

  “You have enough work of your own to do at home.” He turned to go back to his study. “Is it not time you started dinner?”

  “As soon as I get the fire hot. Do you want tea now?”

  “Too late. I shall work until dinner.”

  She followed him into the small room, finding herself clenching her hands together. “Papa, can we afford to hire some help?”

  “We have a garden boy. He takes care of the horse. What more help do you need?”

  “I mean for the house. It would be good to have someone working here. If I should decide to get married, at least someone would know how you like your meals cooked.”

  “Who would marry you?” He seated himself behind his desk and looked up at her with a tired shrug.

  “Well, there is Leighton.”

  Vicar Westlake jumped up with such a look of anger on his face that Maddie had no time even to think of cringing. She just stared at him, feeling his look of hatred knife through her.

  “I do not want him near you, do you understand?” He pointed at her dramatically as he did when fingering sinners from the pulpit. But she was on to his tricks and would take no guilt that was not her due. Perhaps the cutting look was just another of his theatrics.

  “But we were always such friends and you used to like him. Why shouldn’t I marry him?”

  “That was before—before I knew what such men are made of. You stay away from Leighton.”

  “I am almost of age. In a month I can marry whomever I please and you cannot stop me.”

  “You say one more word about marriage to Leighton and I’ll ship you off to your sister’s house in Bath.”

  Maddie could feel the stubborn scowl take possession of her face. “I will say another word. Leighton means to call on you tomorrow…about me.”

  “I see. He means to do the honorable thing and ask for your hand. Well, I shall be waiting for him but you will not. Go and pack your things.”

  “Are you serious? What about your dinner?”

  “I’ll not rest until I’ve put you beyond his reach.” He sat back down at his desk and snatched up a pen.

  “But why isn’t Leighton acceptable?”

  “That is no concern of yours. Now go and pack or I will take you to the coaching house as you stand.”

  She knew by now argument would be useless, so she decided to take what action she could. She went to pack her few dresses, disappointed but not surprised. If only there was a way to warn Leighton. He would be rebuffed tomorrow. How could she get word to him about where she was going? For a moment she thought of running away but it would cause gossip if she appeared at Longbridge Keep with her few possessions tied in a bundle or even at his sister’s estate. There was no one else she could shelter with, except perhaps Mrs. Horwith and then she would have to explain the cat.

  Maddie sat on her bed and closed her eyes but did not give in to tears. Odd that she turned weepy only around Leighton. But that was before she knew that he loved her in return. She took a calming breath and straightened her back. His love, now confessed, changed everything.

  She had known her father would not approve the marriage. They would have had to go away for the ceremony anyway. She would merely write Leighton from Bath or somewhere along the road. That would work, assuming his mother did not destroy the letter.

  That stopped her for a moment but surely Leighton would remember where her sisters lived, Faith in York and Patience in Bath. Even if he had no word from her, he would figure out where she had gone. And if he did not… She hesitated as she folded a worn jacket and placed it in her valise. If he did not come for her, that would just show that his kiss today had been a whim, that he was not serious about her. Or that he had lost the battle with his mother, though that seemed unlikely. The Leighton she had known six years ago might have lost but he was different now. She did not know what had happened to him but she had a feeling he would not be thwarted by something as simple as the disapproval of their parents.

  Perhaps this was a test of their love to see if they were worthy of each other. But that was only in books. In real life there were no grand challenges, only aching long days of hard work. In her world, things happened for the stupidest reasons and she might wait forever for Leighton or word from him. But she had already waited a long time. Her faith was in Leighton.

  She pulled a thin sheaf of letters from the back of her washstand drawer. There were only nineteen of them. Not much from all his time away in London. They had usually come with a bank draft after quarter day. Leighton managed to write about London with a wit that was never pretentious. There had been no words of love in them, though she had looked for them. That was why his sudden proposal had surprised her.

  She put them carefully in her bag and took from her shelf a small book of household recipes and hints that her mother had written. It was all she had left, all her mother’s other things having disappeared with her father’s obsessive grief. She flipped it open but there was no advice appropriate to love torn asunder, just a recipe for strawberry jam.

  In this matter she would have to think for herself. She realized the best plan would be to appear to concede to her father’s wishes, as she usually did. Once out of his control she would manage her life as she saw fit and notify him later if the need arose. She picked up her valise and went downstairs to hitch the horse to the gig.

  Chapter Three

  Leighton returned Jasper to the care of the single groom at Longbridge and walked down the row of empty stalls to check on Chandros, his new mount, the one Colonel Scoville had given him as a thank-you for all his work during the war in Spain. Chandros flung his gray head up over the stall partition, looking fit and e
ager to run even after the tiring ride from London. He whinnied to Jasper and Leighton instructed Nat to stable the two next to each other so they could get acquainted.

  Nat was there to take care of the teams of plow horses and the pair of aging carriage hacks. Leighton shook his head when he recalled the line of beautiful chestnut horses his father had bred. The Earl of Longbridge had cared about his horses almost as much as he did his children and yet Leighton’s mother said that he had taken them with him to sell in America, that they must have gone down with the ship, as well.

  Leighton did not believe her, of course. She had always been jealous of the animals and must have sold them herself after his father left for America. But they had been gone by the time he came for the funeral of Maddie’s mother and there was no point in quarreling over it after they found out his father had died as well.

  It hurt that his father had not told him of his plans ahead of time. The brief note Cook had handed him, instructing him to take care of the estate, seemed an inadequate farewell. It was the first Leighton had heard about the uncle or his father’s plantation in America but Leighton suspected the trip had more to do with getting away from Mother than visiting the brother.

  He stroked Chandros’ nose. This half Andalućian with his short back and sturdy legs, held some promise as a stud. If Leighton got some likely mares, he and Maddie would have a stable full of riding horses in no time.

  Maddie riding with him and the girls ended with his father’s death. He was looking forward to telling Amy and Susan the news of their betrothal. Less so his mother but she would get used to the idea. Once she had seemed quite fond of Maddie.

  Leighton walked toward the house, glancing around the walled stone courtyard. The square tower that formed the center of the sprawling house had been a fortified keep in medieval times and now it looked cold and unwelcoming, not the place he would like to bring Maddie to live.

  He shook his head as he approached the back door and cast a worried glance at the chimney and coping stones. He had ordered them worked on last time he’d been home but even through he had left his friend Ross in charge, his mother must have found a way to delay the repairs. He really wondered how they would get along now that he meant to stay.