Music Master

by Barbara Miller

  Even if the first note had been a jest, this was the real thing. Had his father sent him the previous message because he wanted out? Was it a plea for help? The only useful bit of information in this one was the time. When he thought of courtyard, the hotel came to mind. But it was highly unlikely to be the one that was meant. Still, if he finished up here before midnight he would go in place of his father. He would find out what was going on finally.

  The thought that there might be danger did occur to him. He could be arrested as a spy, or shot, depending on how edgy Reid was feeling. So he went to the library and outlined the situation in a letter to Scoville, omitting any mention of his father. He folded it and prepared another letter to Maddie. But what was he to say to her? If there was danger he did not want her involved. He did not even want to suggest he might be killed. In the end he said that if there was a need for her to clear his reputation the enclosure would do it.

  Then he stopped to think about what position she might be in if he was killed, so he wrote a will leaving everything he could to her and sealed that inside the letter to Scoville. It was inadequate protection for her but it was something. The note to her ended with his undying love for her. It would never die even if he did.

  Finally he went to put it in her room. If anything happened to him, at least his name would be cleared. He had a sudden vision of Maddie back at the parsonage and his distant cousin putting up with his whining mother at Longbridge Keep. The saddest part was thinking of Maddie alone.

  * * * * *

  When Maddie finally saw Leighton, she was still arranging the music stands. “I thought you were going to come early. Is anything the matter?”

  “No. What could be wrong?” He came up and pressed her hand and kissed it.

  He seemed in an odd mood. “Leighton, you have a talent for understatement. This evening could be a disaster.”

  “You are always like this before a performance. I had thought it was because your father is such a perfectionist.”

  “Yes, you are right. I must calm myself so I do not make Lucy nervous.”

  “You will see. We have not lost our edge, at any rate. Everything will be fine.” He patted her hand and let go of it.

  “Oh, by the way, Reid is here.” She sent him a calculating look.

  “I thought he might be.”

  “And Lucy has suddenly remembered his heroics that day and is thanking him profusely.”

  “How is he taking that, being the knight in shining armor for a change?”

  “He actually blushed but I fancy he is not indifferent to her.”

  Leighton wandered toward the refreshment table to inspect it. “You were accusing me of matchmaking. Did you have a hand in this case of hero worship?”

  “I did point out that, had you not knocked her off her horse, Lieutenant Reid would have ridden to her rescue and taken her up across his saddle, carrying her off to safety. Leighton, stop eating those cakes. They are for the guests.”

  Leighton was staring at her with his mouth agape. “She swallowed that?”

  “Yes, she is quite sure now that you only got in the way and she knows in her heart that Gifford would never have lifted a finger to help her.”

  “Poor Lucy. She has the right of it there. If it’s romance she craves, Gifford is the worst possible husband for her.”

  “I do not think she will settle for him now. Oh, here come the first guests. I do not know if I can do this, not with them in the audience.”

  “You’ve played for my father and your mother dozens of times. This is no different.”

  * * * * *

  Leighton watched Maddie nod her agreement but her face was still pale. She had a good twenty minutes to regain her composure since it took that long for all the guests to find seats and rid themselves of greetings and gossip. Leighton went to reassure Rachel and Patience that all was well.

  He drew his father aside. “That scrap of music you sent me was a jest as you said?”

  “Yes, what makes you ask?”

  “Another message has come my way and I think it is not in jest. It speaks of a meeting of conspirators at midnight and unless I miss my guess, there will be a representative from the army there to arrest them.”

  “Are you sure it was intended for you?” his father asked calmly.

  “Of course not. I think it was intended for you and I am guessing it was sent by Sir Phillip but I cannot prove it.”

  Lady Haddon was describing the night’s entertainment and was about to turn the program over to Leighton.

  His father patted him on the back and pushed him toward the front of the room. “Make me proud.”

  Proud of what? Capturing a spy ring or entertaining a throng of guests, at least one of whom was tone deaf.

  “I have it on good authority that you…” Leighton stopped before he blurted out his father’s flaw. Why cheat him of the pretext of enjoyment?

  “What?”

  “That you have musicians just as fine as we are in America.”

  “We are no backwater. Still it has been a long time.”

  Mrs. Marsden called for attention and introduced the three of them. Lucy began her piece as coyly as Leighton had taught her and was not a bit distracted by him turning the pages for her. The first two sections were slow, so she surprised everyone with the energy she expressed in that last part. It was the more technically complex but had been the simplest for Lucy to master. Her fingers danced over the keys like fluttering birds and Leighton felt a small thrill that he had helped her just a little to this moment of triumph. Every such victory a woman gained meant that she might stand up a little more valiantly for her own rights. Fifteen minutes later she was nodding modestly at genuine applause.

  Lady Haddon had wanted Leighton’s piece next, so he launched into his latest composition. It was perhaps a bit startling, part of it sounding as though it catalogued a pursuit on horseback and part as though he were accompanying a waterfall but he was beyond looking for acceptance of his work. If only Maddie understood that it was for her. He had worked on it since that stumbling beginning all those days ago in the courtyard of the hotel when he did not even know if he was looking for her in the right city. He looked up as she turned the handwritten music for him and smiled at her.

  She looked startled. She must have realized he didn’t need the music. The notes were written on his heart. But constant, reliable Maddie went on turning the pages at the right moments anyway, miraculously reading the music upside down and watching his fingers on the keys as though she were observing the hands of a lover, deft, gentle, sure of his welcome. Was that last blush for him? What a public place in which to declare his love for her and what a unique way.

  He would have to ask her later if she understood what his hands were saying to her. The audience had been totally silent for Lucy’s Beethoven. Now he could hear an occasional whisper. That didn’t surprise him. They could never have heard anything like this before and probably never would again. The bridge was slower, like a gently moving stream, swirling a boat with two lovers in it, oblivious to where the current was taking them, even if they drifted clear to the sea.

  For the last section the rider was back. No, two riders, he and Maddie side by side, riding away to Longbridge forever. After the final chord there was a moment or two of silence. Then bold hands began clapping. Leighton looked up to see his father standing to applaud and first one, then another of the audience following suit. Eventually all were persuaded to give him a hand, though he suspected many had not liked what they’d heard.

  Without a break except for Maddie to take her place at the pianoforte and for him to tune his cello, they began a slow adagio, the only sad part of the program. Lucy had been well coached on when to turn Maddie’s pages and Leighton could look over her shoulder if he needed to see the music. Lucy sent him a delighted smile. He just hoped nothing would happen to ruin the evening for her—such as her father being arrested.

  All things considered, Maddie was holding up
rather well. As he had foretold, when she began to play, she forgot who was listening. For his own part, it was easy to carry those long notes that tied together the piece and gave it continuity. It was a difficult one to master on the piano but Maddie had managed it.

  He thought over all their recent misunderstandings and arguments, afraid that he would have no chance to speak to her before he had to try to avert this new disaster. He had made so many missteps in life it was amazing that she still wanted him.

  He had been drafted out of university by a contact who knew Scoville was looking for someone. When he had gone off to help with the decoding, he’d no idea how big a dent he would make in her life. Now that he was back, he was not going to let anyone hurt her ever again, unless something dire happened in the next few hours.

  Then it hit him. He should have told her, confided in her. This was just the sort of mock heroics that made her so angry at him. Well it was not too late to confess this time but he did not want her there with him, did not want to have to worry about her life as well.

  * * * * *

  Maddie paused, breathless after the last note. She thought they had never sounded so well together. Yes, they had played this piece before but they had both been children then. Now she understood what perfect accord meant, for she had just experienced it. If they could agree so sweetly with their music, why could they not always be harmonious?

  Leighton took her hand and lifted her, subtly turning her to face the audience. She looked down at her gray silk gown, trying to avoid her mother’s eyes because she did not want to cry but it was the false Mrs. Stone who was crying. Maddie sent her a sad smile. Perhaps Leighton was right. Perhaps his father and her mother belonged together and deserved each other. She looked at the way Lord Longbridge’s hand covered her mother’s and she harked back to those visits he had made to the parsonage. Those were the only times she remembered her mother laughing.

  Next was a light operatic piece with Lucy singing the soprano and Leighton the tenor. Maddie had never realized before how good Leighton’s voice was. She worried for a moment about his cough but he would not have attempted the short piece if he had not rid himself of that. And they were both strong enough to sing together without drowning each other.

  When she turned to join Lucy in the next ballad, she noticed Lieutenant Reid in the first row watching them raptly. He seemed to be dividing his attention equally among the three of them, yet when he glanced at Lucy his eyes were not keen and piercing. They held a softer light, one that could be turned to love if the girl so desired and had the opportunity.

  And she might. Lucy’s cool, clear voice was causing that beautiful smile on her father’s face and the glint of pride in her mother’s eyes. If she set her mind to it, the girl could have anything she asked for. Maddie would have to remember to point that out to her.

  Lucy’s vocal solo with Maddie on the piano and Leighton on the cello finished the evening. When the last bars ended with the high, delicate and untouchable note dying away, there was a worshipful silence for a moment, then the bedlam of applause, talk and the scrape of chairs. Maddie flattered herself that the audience had not been bored but were sincere in their enjoyment. Lucy’s parents both kissed her. Gifford gave up trying to approach her and left the room in sullen silence.

  Leighton whispered something in Maddie’s ear.

  “What?”

  “Your mother. Will you speak to her?”

  “Oh, Leighton. I will cry if I do.”

  “No one will think aught of it.”

  “You ask too much. I cannot.”

  “Then just smile, something to let her know there is forgiveness in you heart, even if you cannot express it yet.”

  Maddie ducked her head, then glanced at the chairs of the new Mr. and Mrs. Stone and realized what they had given up to be together. Their whole lives, children, everything—and not by choice. She licked her lips and dashed a tear from her eyes, then sent her mother a brave smile.

  She started across the room but was swept up in a crowd congratulating her. When she looked up again, they were gone.

  “It was enough,” Leighton said. “You made her very proud.”

  “I think I understand them better now through you. I want to see her again.”

  “I hope so, for you may have to. I have an errand to run. It has to do with the business of the code. I do not know what it is all about yet except that Reid is on the right side, I am sure.”

  Maddie felt her lips tremble. “You are just not sure your father is.”

  “Correct. I tried to talk to him tonight but he avoided the issue.”

  “What can you do?”

  “Go in his place. If anything should happen, I have written out what I know and left it on your pillow. Send the packet to Scoville or even Wellington. He is still in London.”

  “But Leighton, if you don’t know what you are walking into, how can you defend yourself?”

  “Don’t worry. I shall come off all right. You’ll see.”

  “Leighton, this is not a musical performance. This is real. It’s a matter of your life, our lives together.”

  “You are asking me to choose again, my father or you and I want you both safe and sound. If anything should happen, go to him and tell him why I did it.”

  “But where are you going?”

  “Where it all began, the message, the music.” His eyes were glittering with excitement. “I wrote it for you. Did you guess? The new piece is called ‘Constance Madeline’.”

  “Leighton, wait.” she called after him as he escaped through the crowd.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Maddie ran up the steps to her room. He had done it again, cast himself in the role of a stupid hero when he didn’t even know the risks. Leighton did indeed need a keeper. She threw open her door and grabbed the note from her bed, ripping it open. It said nothing, or more of the same drivel he had been spouting. If he really loved her, he would not do such things. She had no compunction about tearing open the inner note as well but it did not give the time or place of the meeting. When she came to his will, she felt a frisson of fear. Leighton would never have penned this if he did not believe in the danger,

  “I’ll take that, Miss Westlake.”

  Maddie jumped as Reid whisked the papers out of her hands and mastered them.

  “When and where?” he demanded.

  “I wish to God I knew. I would take a pistol and go shoot Leighton myself to put him out of his misery.”

  “But he is not involved. He was a suspect once but we are sure of him now.”

  “Who are we?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “There is no time for that now,” Reid said desperately. “Have you no idea where he may have gone?”

  “The time has to be soon. As for where, all he said was ‘where it all began’. He must have been talking about the first message he got and that was delivered to his hotel.”

  “Stay here.” Reid thrust the papers back in her hands. “I will do what I can to keep him safe.”

  “But what if you—”

  He was gone. Just like a man.

  She paced back and forth trying to remember exactly what Leighton had said. Surely the meeting was not to happen in his room.

  A knock on her door brought her up short, then it was thrust open.

  “Lady Haddon, is something the matter?”

  “Could you come to the study, please?”

  “Is it Lucy? Is she ill?”

  “No, Lucy is fine. My husband must speak to you.”

  Maddie followed Lucy’s mother down the back stairs and entered a room in total disorder. It looked as though it had been ransacked, though she was pretty sure Reid had not done it. “Sir Phillip, what is it?”

  “Did you see anyone enter the study this evening?”

  “I was in the drawing room all evening. I can see the door from the front of the room but not when I am playing. Are you saying someone took something?”

  “Yes, my n
otes are missing.”

  “Notes?”

  “From an important meeting with the Admiralty. I can say no more.”

  Maddie sat down, sending her mind back to that message that had come through Leighton’s father, Will know location of fleet. For a second she doubted Lord Longbridge. Was he was going to lead his own son into a trap with his machinations? But he would never hurt Leighton. There must be some other explanation.

  “You look as though you know something about this,” Sir Haddon said gruffly.

  Maddie’s mind scrambled. She could not give Leighton’s father away even if he were involved in this tangle somehow. “It was just something odd that happened to Leighton tonight.”

  “What?”

  “A note had been misdirected to him, something about a meeting. Just like him not to tell me where.”

  “Are you sure the note was not intended for Leighton?”

  “He did not think so. It was handed to him in the stable, where no one would think to look for him.” Maddie remembered then what Leighton had said. He was going back to where it started, the message and the music. The new music had started in the courtyard of his hotel. She was sure of it, for it contained the same notes as the fountain there.

  Sir Phillip’s face turned white. “But where Gifford is often to be found.”

  “Gifford?” Maddie asked.

  Lady Haddon spoke up. “Gifford hasn’t the brains for a conspiracy.”

  Sir Phillip shrugged. “This is not the first time my notes have been disarranged and Gifford always has the opportunity for that.”

  “The meeting must be in the courtyard at Prad’s hotel. We had tea there a week ago. I am sure that’s what Leighton meant,” Maddie said.

  The clocked chimed the half hour. Sir Phillip threw open a desk drawer.

  “Very well. Go to bed. Do not concern yourself.”

  “But you are loading a pistol. How am I not to concern myself?”

  Sir Phillip shook his head and left.

  “Come, my dear, this is something neither one of us should be involved in.”