Prelude for a Lord (14 page)

But that was not true with the two gentlemen standing beside her. She turned to Lord Ian. “I am amazed that the Quartet is resurfacing after all these years, and without Captain Enlow.”

“Yes, David’s still fighting Boney. We shall have to find someone to take his place, poor chap,” Lord Ian said. “Shall you fill in?”

“I doubt Lord Dommick would allow that,” she said.

“He’s a touch sensitive about his public image at the moment.”

Lord Ravenhurst shot Lord Ian a look, and after a moment, looking conscientious, Lord Ian said no more.

She asked, “Have the four of you known each other long?”

“Since Eton,” Lord Ravenhurst said.

“Brought together by music?”

“Brought together by a fight, actually.” Lord Ian grinned. “No lad will stand for being accused of liking music. Two boys were picking on Bayard and me because they heard us talking about music. No one dared pick on David since even then he was a big, strong fellow, and Raven has that forbidding glare he probably practiced from the womb.”

“A contributing factor may be that I outranked all but one of the boys there,” Lord Ravenhurst remarked dryly.

“Well, Bayard and I weren’t about to let those nodcocks insult our masculinity, so we went at them. But there were six of them and only two of us, and so David and Raven joined in the fight.”

“Good gracious.” She could picture them as boys, lively and passionate about anything they put their minds to.

“Oh, it was great fun. Those bullies couldn’t throw a proper punch if you lined it up for them. But our headmaster wasn’t as amused by it.”

“Nothing like mutual punishment to bring boys together,” Lord Ravenhurst said.

Alethea smiled. “Most young noblemen do not continue their musical training after they enter society, but you four are remarkably accomplished. Your skills rival professional musicians.”

Lord Ian bowed. “We had two of the most vicious musical masters in Oxford who whipped us into shape soon enough.”

“He exaggerates, my lady,” Lord Ravenhurst said. “There were two retired musicians living near Oxford who trained us informally, especially in composition. One was German trained by an Italian master, and the other was French.”

“So, that is why your music is so unique. You have had influences from all three,” Alethea said. “At the concert I attended in London, Captain Enlow’s violin and pianoforte concerto was more lighthearted and complex than any I had heard before, but since then I have heard French compositions with a similar style.”

Lord Ravenhurst’s white-blond eyebrows rose as he regarded her. “That is very astute of you. When he wrote it, Mr. Enlow was hoping to emulate the atmosphere of French pieces.”

“I have not heard much music from other parts of the continent, but I have played several pieces from Mozart,” Alethea said. “His music is not very popular here in Bath.”

“Have you heard any of Beethoven’s pieces?” Lord Ravenhurst asked. “You would enjoy them.”

The dance ended, and Dommick returned with his sister. Alethea had not had so enjoyable a conversation in years. Her aunt did not allow her to speak to professional musicians at concerts, who tended to be of the middle class.

“Are you speaking of Beethoven?” Miss Terralton said. “Raven and I adore his music, but Ian pretends to disdain it.”

“My dear Clare, I only disdain it because you are in raptures about it,” Lord Ian said. “If you only considered it adequate, I would then be Beethoven’s greatest proponent.”

Miss Terralton gave Lord Ian a disgusted look. He grinned back at her.

“Do you like Beethoven, Lady Alethea?” Miss Terralton asked her.

“I am afraid I have never heard his music.”

“I have a trio I can lend to you. Usually Bayard and Raven play the violin and violoncello and I play pianoforte, but you play the violin, do you not?”

“Yes, indeed.” Alethea refrained from looking at Lord Dommick.

Lord Ian had no such restraint. “Lady Alethea plays well and has a very fine violin, doesn’t she, Bay? A Stradivarius?”

“We are not certain it is a Stradivarius, but I believe so,” Lord Dommick said.

“Have you taken it to Quill?” Lord Ravenhurst asked. “He would be able to verify it for a certainty.”

“Alethea is understandably hesitant to go traipsing about with her violin in hand.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone, including Dommick, realized he had called her by her name only. He had done so in front of Miss Herrington-Smythe to put her in her place, but to do it casually in front of his family shocked Alethea. His face was impassive, but she caught the colour seeping up his neck and realized he must have done so by accident.

Lady Morrish was the first to speak. “Why don’t you take your instrument-maker friend to Mrs. Garen’s home to look at the violin there?” She turned toward Aunt Ebena. “If you have no objection, of course?”

Aunt Ebena was regarding Lord Dommick with a thoughtful—and not very friendly—eye, but she nodded to Lady Morrish. “I should not mind at all.”

“I shall visit Quill tomorrow and arrange a time for us to come by this week,” Lord Dommick said.

“You may call tomorrow, if it suits you,” Aunt Ebena said. Alethea wondered at her aunt’s graciousness until she realized that for several days this week, her aunt had other engagements and Alethea would be home unchaperoned.

“Mr. Quill is a good instrument maker and repairer, and he is considered an expert on instrument forgeries,” Lord Dommick said. “He is especially gifted in ferreting out violins purported to be by Stradivari.”

“I have never claimed my violin was a Stradivarius,” Alethea said hotly. However, she had always suspected it was.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alethea,” Aunt Ebena said. “He is only confirming if it is or is not. He is not accusing you of anything.”

“Of course not,” Lord Dommick said quickly. “I did not mean to imply anything.”

“I apologize, Lord Dommick,” Alethea said. Why was she so
quick to take offense at everything he said? Something about him put her on edge.

Beside her, Miss Terralton suddenly tensed. Alethea turned to see Mr. Morrish approaching them.

“You both require rescuing,” Lord Ian said with a wink. “Raven, take Clare out for this dance, will you?” He grasped Alethea’s hand and led her to the dancers forming the new set.

“Thank you for thinking of me, but I have danced with many an unpleasant man,” Alethea said.

“While I have only your best interests at heart, Lady Alethea, I am also concerned for Clare.” He bowed to her as the music started.

“Miss Terralton?”

“At all the events we have attended since we arrived in Bath, Mr. Morrish has only ever associated with Clare or her female friends.”

“Surely he has his own friends?”

“If he does, they all happen to be female and in a close relationship with Clare.”

“Oh.” Alethea realized she would not like a man like Mr. Morrish around her own sister. Something about him made her feel as if she had butter smeared on her hands and she longed to wipe them.

She spent an enjoyable evening with Lord Dommick and his friends and family. Their stamp of approval appeared to temporarily dampen the whispering about Alethea, and several other men asked her to dance. However, they always returned her to Lady Morrish, since Aunt Ebena sat next to the woman for much of the evening, and neither lady was inclined to move. Alethea didn’t know what they spoke of, but neither lady appeared bored.

Finally, Lord Ravenhurst had his dance with Lady Fairmont. Alethea refused a gentleman who asked her to dance and waited for Lord Ravenhurst to return to Lady Morrish.

Lord Ian was dancing, and Miss Terralton had accepted the
hand of a young man with bright blue eyes. Lord Dommick stood at Alethea’s side, but his gaze remained on his sister.

“You are very solicitous of your sister, my lord,” she said.

“She is very dear to me,” he said.

His answer surprised her. Her father and brother had only considered her a duty or an asset to be used, so it was hard for her to picture a man who cared for his family.

He turned to her. “And I asked you to call me Dommick.”

His eyes were very near hers. They held a hint of amusement, a hint of uncertainty, a hint of awkwardness. Her blood pounding in her ears made it difficult to gather her thoughts to answer him.

“Or would you prefer to call me Bayard? Raven and Ian do so because we grew up as boys together.”

“They told me about the fight.”

He smiled then, and it transformed his face from the stern hawk to a much younger man, with laugh lines radiating from his shining eyes and along his mouth. “I trust Ian added much embellishment?”

“I think Lord Ravenhurst would not let him.”

He was looking directly at her, so she saw clearly when his expression changed. If he were not always so controlled, so remote, she might have thought he looked at her with a sort of . . . longing.

Then his expression changed again, this time back to his distant, hawklike visage. He did not move a step, yet it seemed to Alethea that he grew farther away from her. He turned back to the dancers.

After several minutes’ silence, he said, “We studied together at Oxford under the same music masters.”

“Yes, Lord Ian mentioned that. It speaks much of your dedication to continue your music. Most young men do not.”

“They are expected to engage in more worthy pursuits than music, but the majority of them frequent gaming halls rather than
their estates. I do not think it a bad thing that we spent our time practicing music rather than more unsavory pursuits, and we yet had time for our family duties.”

Alethea’s brother had certainly spent much of his time gaming. She had not been told the particulars, but she had heard rumours that he had reduced the Trittonstone estate considerably before his death. He had already sold much of the land not under the entail. “You worked hard, then, for your popularity in London,” Alethea said. “I am sure many miss your concerts.”

“If David and I had not bought our commissions, we would not have continued,” Dommick said. “Raven’s estates took much of his time, Ian was caring for his mother and sister, and our families . . .” He stopped and seemed self-conscious.

Alethea thought she understood what he had been about to say. “Surely your families were pleased with your popularity?”

Dommick was not looking at her, and his voice was low. “Only for a while.”

“They did not understand,” she said slowly. “For most, music is something to adequately perform, nothing more. But for some, it rises above mere entertainment.” Calandra had understood that in Alethea. What a gift that was. She could not imagine growing up without the support of at least one person.

He looked at her. “Yes,” he said in a voice of surprise.

For a moment, it was as if he were touching her. She could almost feel his fingers on her face. His gaze wrapped around her, muting the sounds of the dance and the crowds in the room.

Then he blinked, and she blinked, and they both looked away.

She did not look at him again for the rest of the dance. Their silence was both comfortable and uncomfortable. His presence beside her was a sort of balm, and at the same time, she felt tense and nervous. She did not like not understanding herself, and she could somehow sense that he felt the same way.

The music ended, and Lord Ravenhurst appeared, escorting Lady Fairmont. She looked tired but happy at the success of her ball. One of the violet feathers in her headdress wilted sadly, but her amethyst pendant glittered at her bosom.

“Ebena, Lady Morrish,” Lady Fairmont said. “I hope you are enjoying yourselves?”

“A wonderful ball, Tania,” Aunt Ebena said.

She turned to Alethea with a polite smile. “And, Lady Alethea, Ravenhurst says you wish to speak with me?”

“It will take but a moment, my lady. My aunt has said you are familiar with many Italian noble families through your mother’s side?”

“Oh, yes. My mother was very interested in family trees.”

“I came across some initials that may be from an Italian nobleman.” Alethea pulled the paper with the initials from her glove and handed it to Lady Fairmont. “I do not know who they refer to, but I wondered if you might perhaps recognize—”

She broke off because Lady Fairmont had turned a glowing crimson that clashed horribly with her gown. The look she gave Alethea was equal parts horrified and enraged. She thrust the paper back at Alethea, then turned to Aunt Ebena. “I don’t know what you are about, Ebena, but this is outrageous.”

Aunt Ebena’s jaw had fallen open, her grey eyes wide.

“My lady, I assure you—” Alethea began, but Lady Fairmont cut her off with a slicing motion of her hand so violent that it made her pendant bounce on her chest.

Then without a word, Lady Fairmont turned and stalked away.

CHAPTER SIX

A
lethea paced in her aunt’s drawing room. She strained her ears for the sound of her aunt at the front door, but dreaded hearing it too soon, for it would mean that Lady Fairmont had refused to see her.

Why had Lady Fairmont responded with so much anger last night? Alethea’s thoughts had been moving sluggishly, unable to grasp what was happening, unable to figure out what to say or how to respond.