Through Gypsy Eyes

by Killarney Sheffield

  Startled, she pivoted on the bench to face the door. “How long have you been standing there, my lord?”

  “Since the first few bars.” Lord Frost’s footsteps crossed the carpet. “You play very well.”

  “Thank you.” Disgruntled at his encroachment into her solitude, she turned her back on him.

  His normal stiff clip softened. “I did not mean to offend you by listening.”

  “You did no such thing.”

  “Then why are you angry?”

  She settled her fingers back on the keys. “I am not angry.”

  He chuckled. “Annoyed then.”

  Shrugging, she played a few light chords. “What makes you think so?”

  “Your face is a mirror to your thoughts, Miss Daysland. Your emotions are as transparent as glass.”

  With a grimace she thumped the chords harder than necessary. So he could read her thoughts from her expression? It seemed she must take more care to keep her expression neutral. How to accomplish this without being able to see to judge for herself was the issue. “You are intruding on my practice. It is beginning to be an exasperating habit, in my opinion.”

  He grunted. “Does my interruption bother you, or is it my presence in your home that is the root of your frustration?”

  “Both.”

  “I see.” He sighed as if it grieved him to be the cause of her bitter mood. “Well, rest assured as soon as I figure out where all the livestock and supplies have disappeared and see you happily wed, I will be out of your hair.”

  “Ha,” she spat. “As I told you before, there is none who would want a blind wife.”

  “Oh, but there is. I have even arranged a small dinner party with a few potential suitors to prove it to you.”

  She slammed down the key guard and spun to face him. “You did what?”

  “I arranged a dinner party tonight.”

  The smugness of his statement pricked her ire even further. “How dare you! This is my house. I did not authorize any such party.”

  The former stiffness returned to his response. “Do you forget I am now in charge here?”

  Anger rushed through her veins and she sprang to her feet. “I confided in you. How dare you put me on public display like … like some sort of pathetic circus sideshow?”

  “Sideshow?” The astonishment in his tone made her cringe. “I was merely trying to show you how desirable you are. Why do you see yourself as pathetic?”

  Struggling to keep her tears of humiliation under control, she crossed her arms. “I do not see myself that way, my peers do. To them I am less than a woman. I have nothing to offer any man and to try to make me believe anyone sees me any different is cruel.”

  “Do you really believe no one could see past your affliction?” He grasped her hand, prying it from its grip on her arm. “You are so wrong to think that way.”

  Tears long held at bay streaked down her face, and when she would have wiped them away his fingers sought her cheek and did so for her. “It matters not what I believe. I have heard the whispered comments, the mocking voices, and pitying remarks. Others decided that I am not of value which is why I have made my own world here.”

  His voice was soft and soothing. “Your peers are the ones who are wrong. You are so much more than blind.” His fingers lifted from her cheek leaving it cool in their wake. “I will make it my duty to show them what I perceive.”

  She pulled from his grip, uncomfortable with his uncharacteristic gentleness. “What is it you think you see?”

  “A beautiful woman who amazes me daily not with the things she cannot do, but rather the astounding things she can. My sis — ” He paused to clear his throat. “Most women struck with your affliction would sit alone in a dark room and will death to take them. Instead you have gone out and made the world conform to you, to dance at your fingertips and bow to your command through love and perseverance. Despite your lack of sight you are the most gifted piano player I have ever had the pleasure of hearing.”

  Her lower lip quivered and she tucked it between her teeth a moment to still it. “You lie. You think simply to flatter me into compliance with your noddy dinner party.”

  “I assure you, I do not seek to do anything of the sort and I never lie.”

  She lifted her chin in stubborn conviction. “Never?”

  “Never.”

  The finality in his words made her want to believe him. Still, she experienced the truth for herself many times at a man’s hands. Rejection haunted the months of her coming out until she refused to bare her soul to it anymore and retreated. Her heart was safer here in her home. Now he wanted to bring men into her sanctuary to spurn her. “Are you so eager to be done with the king’s command you would toss me to the wolves?”

  “Is that how you see courtship?” His heavy sigh hung between them for a moment. “I assure you it is the furthest thing from my mind. I seek to see you happy, wed, and looked after for the rest of your life, not at the mercy of thieving servants who profess to love you, yet are stealing everything of value out from under your very nose.”

  The anger in his speech startled her. Did he really care? It was a difficult ideal to believe, for the only man who in truth cared for her was her father. “There has to be another explanation. I can’t believe servants who accept me for who I am and have cared for me all these years would do such a thing.”

  “I have been through your father’s books and made careful examination of the storerooms, estate, and barns. As I said before, there is no livestock to be found and little supplies left.”

  She ignored the impatience in his explanation. “Surely there must be some cause you have neglected to consider. Perhaps you have not found the correct storerooms — ”

  “Why is it so hard for you to believe the servants would steal from you?”

  She stood her ground. “They have always been loyal.”

  “Aye, while your father was alive to keep his eye on them. I found the stable boy fornicating in the straw just the other day. When I told him to return to his duties he had the gall to ask by whose authority I would command him. That kind of disrespect speaks volumes of the servants here.”

  Anger plucked at her emotions. How dare he say such things? Though he did say he never lied. No, she refused to believe such a shocking tale. Still, did she not see the truth for herself? Or rather hear and smell it? Damn her useless eyes! For the first time in many years she found herself helpless, and she did not like the feeling. “If you will excuse me, you have given me a headache.” She rose, moved around the piano bench to the veranda doors and whistled for Jester.

  “Do not think to use such an excuse to get out of the dinner party tonight.”

  At his warning she set her teeth and ground them together. “The thought never entered my head,” she snipped. Hoof beats clattered across the veranda and the pony brushed her skirts. Trailing her fingers along his neck she let the harness slip into her hand and then clicked to the pony to walk on. She half expected the earl to follow, but her and Jester’s footsteps were the only ones to reverberate against the stone.

  A stroll in the garden would settle her thoughts. The path they took was familiar and in effort to give her mind something to toil over rather than the upcoming dinner party, she pulled the harness to the left, steering Jester onto the path to the stables. Despite the fact Jester was an equine, they never frequented the barns. Jester preferred to sleep on the veranda or beside the garden fence where he could hear her call should she need him. True to his protective nature, the pony’s steps slowed to allow her to test each place she put her feet. Again the air cooled to alert her they were entering the barn. Her guide clip-clopped along, the sound echoing in the empty structure.

  “Whoa, Jester,” Delilah commanded.

  The pony stopped.

  She released the harness, struck out for the stall door, and leaned against it. “Where did all the animals go?” she asked, more to herself than Jester. Though she relieved half of the staff of th
eir duties not long after her father’s death, she gave them more than adequate compensation, rewarding the remaining ones with a small, yet well-received raise. From what Teresa told her the wage she paid each employee was well above the norm, so what reason did they have to steal from her? It did not make any sense.

  Something rattled at the far end of the barn aisle.

  Pivoting, she faced the direction the sound came from. “Is someone there?”

  A slight rustle in the straw made her reach for Jester’s harness.

  “Hello?” Perhaps it was a rat out scavenging for bits of grain left from the horses who used to reside here. Footsteps approached from the opposite direction. She spun around wondering if two people might be in the stable with her.

  “Miss Daysland?”

  A sigh of relief slipped from her lips at the maid’s call. “I am in the stable, Teresa.”

  The servant’s footsteps crossed the wooden floor boards. “What are you doing in here, miss?”

  “Nothing.” Delilah reached for the harness and tugged it to cue her guide she wanted to go back to the house. “Jester and I were just taking a walk.”

  “Well come on back to the house. We have only a few short hours to get you ready for the earl’s dinner party.”

  Despite the unwelcome thought, Delilah submitted to the maid’s escort back to the house, the noises in the barn forgotten.

  Chapter Nine

  Delilah forced herself to sit still while the maid fussed with her hair.

  “You look beautiful, miss.”

  “I shall have to take your word for it, I suppose.” Though she tried to keep the vexation from her voice and brow, she did not succeed. Pressing fingers to her forehead she smoothed away the telltale wrinkles and sighed. The slight headache that nagged all morning still lingered in wait behind her temples. It threatened to become a full force skull pounding, which experience foretold would lay her low for a day at least.

  A knock on the door announced the arrival of Lord Frost. Getting to her feet, she fixed a smile to her lips as the maid opened it. The slight brush of material upon material and minty scent alerted her to the earl’s presence. “I am perfectly capable of walking down the stairs by myself, my lord.”

  “As is every lady; however, I thought to show my support and ease any nervousness you might have.” His tone switched from teasing to admiring. “You look lovely in that mauve dress — it brings out the shine in your black hair and color of your eyes to perfection.”

  “So glad you approve, my lord, not that your approval or my outwardly loveliness will matter to anyone downstairs.” She brushed past him out the door, both irritated she couldn’t see for herself her appearance and annoyed his praise made her want to. She was content in her dark world, for the most part, until he showed up. Why all of a sudden she cared what she looked like was a mystery. Besides, her appearance was not going to attract any attention from the opposite sex. The earl’s ridiculous little dinner party was going to be a horrendous flop. Descending the stairs, she stifled the sudden urge to return to her room and don the shapeless dress she used for her midnight escapes. The earl’s footfalls close behind left little doubt he would refuse to go along with her charade.

  A murmur of voices drifted down the hall from the large parlor. It irked her that the parlor she used as a music room because of its marvelous resonance would be the scene of her humiliation. Pausing, she took a deep breath and willed her shaky legs to move toward the sound. The breath caught in her chest and panic began to eat its way to her very core. I cannot do this. “I am sorry, I did not mean to make light of your kind compliment. I am not used to dressing for dinner or my appearance mattering. It is just … I cannot do this, I mean, strangers, in my music room. They will stare and whisper … ” She gasped when the earl took her hand, his action catching her off guard.

  He placed the palm of her hand on the arm of his velvet dinner jacket. “Relax. Take a deep breath. Every man in there will adore you.”

  “Every?” she breathed. Her throat constricted and her mouth went dry. “How many did you invite?”

  “Only six.”

  Only six? Dear Lord, he might as well have invited ten, or twelve, or even twenty. One man at a time I can handle, but six? This will be a disaster.

  Giving her a little tug he led her toward the voices. As they stepped into the room the conversation hushed. She lifted her chin, forcing a bright smile to her lips.

  “Gentlemen, so glad you could all join me tonight. May I introduce our hostess, Miss Delilah Daysland. Miss Daysland, I would like to introduce Lord Deerfoot, Lord White, Sir Micheal Rutherford, Sir Augustus March, Mister Charles Knight, and Mister Devon Carhurst.”

  Delilah stiffened at Baron March’s introduction. How did the obnoxious man finagle an invite? With effort she kept her false smile in place, nodding as each one kissed the back of her hand in greeting. “Gentlemen, I am pleased to meet you.” I suppose there is no time like the present to put my plan in motion. With deliberate carelessness she stumbled and tripped, knocking over the end table she knew held a crystal decanter of brandy. It toppled to the floor with a resounding crash. “Oh dear, so clumsy of me. Happens all the time I am afraid.”

  The room was so quiet she could hear the mantle clock tick before the earl cleared his throat. “I believe dinner awaits us.” He took her arm in an iron grip, propelled her to the dining room, and seated her.

  She remained silent as the courses were served and the conversation began to flow. Each guest it seemed went out of his way to include her, but her inability to distinguish to whom she was speaking and her overall frustration at being put on display kept her answers brief and curt.

  “Miss Daysland, it was a tragedy to hear of your dear father’s death.”

  Forcing a small smile to her lips, she turned her head in the direction of the speaker. “Thank you, Lord … ” Good God, who is it seated to my left? Grasping at straws she tossed out a name. “Deerfoot.”

  The gentleman in question cleared his throat. “Sir Rutherford, Miss Daysland.”

  Her cheeks heated at her blunder. “So sorry, sir, please forgive my mistake.”

  Conversation stilled. The only sound for a few moments was the delicate clink of silverware against china. She shifted in her chair. Will this torture never end?

  At last the earl spoke up. “Lord White, I hear you have made quite a name for yourself in the quest for alternative hothouse growing methods.”

  “Quite, I am afraid. You see I did not intend … ”

  Delilah tuned out the uninteresting conversation as the all too familiar twinge started in her temples. At least a headache would allow her to plead illness and retire to her bedchamber. No man here would want a clumsy and ill wife. Though she doubted the earl would let her slip away until at least the meal was dispatched and the men retired for cigars and port in the study.

  “Miss Daysland?”

  Her attention returned to the dinner conversation. “I beg your pardon?” A gentleman responded, which one she couldn’t say.

  “I was just saying no one has seen you in years. I wondered perhaps if you have been on a long tour of Europe?”

  “No.” She frowned in his general vicinity. “I am afraid seeing Europe’s many sights would be quite lost on me, sir, do you not agree?”

  “Ah, yes. I suppose so … ”

  She bit the inside of her lip. My father would be very displeased at my rudeness by putting the poor man on the spot like that. She was about to apologize but decided against it when she detected a slight groan from the head of the table where the earl sat. Let him salvage the dinner conversation now.

  “Lord Deerfoot, you must tell Miss Daysland all about the new race course being designed. She is quite the horse enthusiast and has the most amazing pony I have ever seen. He is her guide.” Despite her needling there was a definite ring of admiration in the earl’s tone.

  “A guide pony?” the gentleman to her right, whom she assumed was Lord Deerfo
ot, inquired. “I have never heard of such a thing.”

  “Neither had I. However, he is the most remarkable little creature. He escorts Miss Daysland safely all over the estate and wears a cleverly constructed harness for her to hold on to. Right, Miss Daysland?”

  Checkmate, my lord. Well played. Perhaps this game will not be as easily won. Delilah resisted the urge to scratch the earl’s eyes out for once again insisting she be the center of attention and pasted a bright smile to her lips. Left with no other choice, she launched into an explanation of Jester and his talents. At least she could speak on a topic she knew something about and was comfortable with.

  • • •

  When the meal was over she rose with the intention of excusing herself, but as if sensing her plans the earl tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Gentlemen, I hope you do not mind if I dismiss the usual port and cigars in the library in exchange for some musical entertainment tonight. Miss Daysland is an extremely accomplished piano player. I think we can cajole her into playing us a lively tune or two.”

  Stifling her groan she allowed him to escort her to the music room. Apparently the earl was not about to give up yet. I will show his lordship how unaccepting my peers can be. Settling in behind the piano she purposely hit the wrong keys and then smiled. “So sorry, gentlemen, it is most difficult to play when one is blind.” The earl cleared his throat in warning; she ignored him. Again she began the piece and played it in its entirety, sprinkling in as many off notes as she dared. When she finished an unenthusiastic smattering of applause was enough to tell her she won this round. “Thank you so much, gentlemen. I practice eight to ten hours a day, right, Lord Frost?” She almost giggled out loud at his huff of exasperation. Instead she affected a pretty pout and pivoted to face the men. “I am afraid I have little else to do, being blind, you see.” She could sense the earl’s stare and anger directed at her. Despite it she grinned. You will think twice before you throw another dinner party in my honor.

  Her head began to pound in earnest and she rubbed her temples. “If you will excuse me gentlemen, I feel one of my many headaches coming on. I beg your leave to go lie down.” When the earl did not refuse her retreat she smothered a smile and made her way upstairs to her bedchamber. Checkmate again, my lord.