Authors: Patricia Kiyono
Love's Refrain (4 page)
“Possibly. Or it could be she was never encouraged to appreciate fine music. How is it her tastes differ so greatly from her sister's?”
“My father married Miranda's mother only twelve years ago. My own mother was an accomplished musician, and my father, Lord Norwood, loved whatever made her happy. Er, did you wish to speak with Lady Miranda? I shall fetch herâ”
He reached out and caught her arm, and she froze at the contact, shocked at the jolt of awareness coursing through her arm.
“That's not necessary, Lady Laura. I'm sure Lady Miranda would rather converse with her own friends than an elderly gentleman like me.”
Laura's mouth dropped open. “Surely she didn't say that to you!”
“Not in those words. But it's obvious our age difference makes it difficult for her to appreciate the things I enjoy.”
“I often found myself at odds with her when we shopped for her wardrobe. Her ideas definitely clash with mine,” agreed Laura.
Andrew chuckled. “I can imagine. So, as you and I are of a like age, perhaps youâ”
A shriek from the other side of the room interrupted whatever the earl was about to propose. Laura noticed a group clustering together, and then a shout, “Lady Covington!”
Andrew dashed to the scene with Laura close behind. Fighting their way through the crowd, they discovered the dowager countess lying on the floor, her eyes closed.
****
“What happened?” Andrew asked those around his mother. He held the countess's head in his lap while a crowd hovered uncertainly about him.
Several people spoke at once, and Andrew struggled to make sense of the cacophony about him.
“Please, let the countess have some air,” Laura's voice rang out. The onlookers quickly complied, to Andrew's amazement. He was even more surprised at the calm reassurance spreading over him when she knelt beside him.
“Where is her ladyship's reticule?” she asked. Finding it, she dug into it until she found a small, filigree case. She pulled it out, wincing at the strong vinegar odor, and held it to the countess's nose.
Lady Covington coughed and opened her eyes. “Oh! Heavens, what is going on?” Her eyes focused on her son. “Andrew, help me to sit up.” The earl quickly complied.
“My lady, perhaps we should take you to a more comfortable seat so that you can rest,” Laura suggested. She looked around at the crowd still milling about. “Perhaps some of you gentlemen could help? And perhaps someone could fetch Lady Covington something to drink?”
Three men stepped forward to help Andrew carry his mother to the ladies' retiring room. Another summoned a waiter to bring refreshments to the countess.
Settled comfortably, away from onlookers, Lady Covington sipped from her glass. Andrew's worry subsided as his mother's color quickly improved.
“Thank you for taking me away from those prying eyes, Andrew.” the countess said. “It is mortifying enough to know I fainted in public, but to have everyone watching me â well, I'm glad you had the presence of mind to get me away. Silly me, I was so preoccupied with my letter writing that I forgot to eat this afternoon. I must have been famished. I'm so glad you brought me some food. You take such good care of me, Andrew.”
Andrew reminded his mother it was Lady Laura who'd had the presence of mind to take care of these things, but when he turned to thank her, she was gone.
He took a moment to consider his curious sense of loss at her absence then turned his attention back to his mother.
Laura threaded her embroidery needle and picked up her hoop. The latest issue of
Ackermann
'
s Repository
included some delightful whitework patterns, and she was eager to try some of them out. Settling back in her chair, she allowed herself to reminisce about her wonderful afternoon. Andrew â Lord Covington â had extended an invitation for the following day to observe the new exhibit at Mr. Bullock's museum, the Egyptian Hall. Miranda, of course, had demurred, but Cousin Reginald, who happened to be within earshot, expressed a genuine interest in attending. The earl had then suggested the three of them could go together, and Reginald had accepted. Laura could hardly contain her excitement.
Recently, Lord Covington had been a regular visitor to the townhouse. With Miranda, they had gone for walks and rides, and on one glorious occasion, had attended a performance of
Henry VIII
at Covent Garden's Theater Royal. Andrew had invited the entire Montgomery household to that event â Cousin Reginald, Cousin Augusta, Miranda, and Laura. In the earl's private box, Miranda had gone to be seen, but Laura had sat close to the edge and listened to every word spoken and watched every moment of the action. And afterward in his luxurious carriage, Andrew had asked her opinion of the performance, looking into her eyes as if her answer meant everything to him.
Was it possible the earl had feelings for her? Though his invitations always included both sisters, it seemed his gaze rested on her, Laura, when he extended them. But he had never shown her any preferential treatment, conversing with both sisters equally. Perhaps tomorrow's excursion would provide some answers.
“Laura, it is time we invited people here. Can we host a ball?”
Laura looked up from her needlework as her sister burst into the sitting room. “A ball?” She furrowed her brow. “Probably not, dear. There isn't enough room.”
“But we've been to everyone else's home! I don't know when Father will come. Mama says she's feeling somewhat better, I think. It's difficult to understand her English, and she's never been good about writing letters. I want to show people I can be a good hostess. Can't you persuade Cousin Reginald to allow us to do something?”
“Why don't we host a small dinner party? We could invite perhaps a half-dozen peopleâ”
“Oh, Laura, that's perfect! I'll work on the guest list now. Can you take care of the menu?” Without waiting for an answer, she whirled and left.
Laura blinked. What had she done? Miranda would surely leave her with most of the work. In addition to the menu planning, she'd probably have to send the invitations and take care of a myriad of other tasks.
Miranda would undoubtedly insist on a new gown. There would be fittings and accessories to choose. They would not be able to host a dinner party for weeks. Tomorrow, after her outing to the Egyptian Hall, or the next day would be soon enough to begin preparations.
****
Laura took Lord Covington's hand as she disembarked from his carriage. She took a few moments to gaze upward at the magnificent façade of the Egyptian Hall in Picadilly. At Cousin Reginald's impatient call, she and Francesca followed the gentlemen up the steps, between the wide marble pillars, and into the great exhibition hall. Once inside, she paused again to stare. The exhibit had been billed as the most extensive collection of African wildlife and artifacts in Europe, and from the sheer number of displays she believed the claim to be accurate.
All around the edges of the room were large glass cases, and people crowded in front of them to see the objects inside. Two rows of long display tables spanned the length of the room. Between the display tables, life-size models of jungle animals stood poised to hunt. In the center of it all was an odd long-necked, spotted creature at least fifteen feet tall. A giraffe, Laura thought. She'd seen pictures in her father's books.
“Where would you like to start?” Lord Covington asked his guests.
“I-I'm quite overwhelmed,” Cousin Reginald admitted. “There is so much to see, I don't know where to begin.”
Laura agreed. “Perhaps we could start with the displays on the walls and then work our way around the display tables?” she suggested.
“Excellent plan,” Andrew said. He offered his arm to Laura. “Shall we begin?”
Laura's heart swelled, and she felt her face grow warm as she took his arm. Her breathing became uneven and she wondered if Andrew would notice her excitement.
Andrew pointed out interesting exotic birds and kept a friendly banter, and Laura quickly calmed. At first, Laura felt unnerved looking into the eyes of these animals, knowing they were once living creatures. Some had been arranged in front of murals drawn to make them appear in their natural habitats. They paused in front of each case, and Laura eagerly read the information printed neatly on placards next to each animal.
The last case on the wall contained a number of fierce war masks and weapons. Laura shivered at the thought of the artifacts in use. And she shivered again when Andrew leaned down and murmured, “Are you cold, Lady Laura?” His warm breath tickled her ear, and it was all she could do to shake her head.
The thrill of being close to him was so heady that she barely noticed a strange cracking noise from behind them and someone frantically calling “Look out!” Instantly, Andrew's arms wrapped around her, holding her. She thought the thunderous noise she heard must be the pounding of her heart, but then she realized it was the sound of several heavy items falling to the floor. Andrew shielded her from whatever happened, and she longed to stay cocooned in his embrace.
All too soon, he released her, and she mourned the loss of his warmth. Andrew held her away from him, and she drowned in his gaze.
“Are you all right?”
She blinked, sorting her jumble of thoughts. “Am I â what?”
“This entire row of larger preserved animals tipped, and I was afraid you would be crushed. Thank goodness someone shouted a warning in time. I couldn't have borne it if you had been harmed.”
The import of what had happened infiltrated her brain, and she swayed, causing Andrew to catch her by the arms and hold her up.
A gentleman rushed toward them. “My lord, I am Samuel Nickerson, the curator for this exhibit. Please accept my sincere apologies for this unfortunate incident.” He turned to Laura. “Madam, have you been harmed?”
Laura looked down at herself. Her dress showed some dust, but she didn't feel any injury. She shook her head, unable to speak. Andrew answered for her. “The lady has had quite a fright. Is there a place for her to sit?”
Mr. Nickerson led Andrew, Laura, and Francesca to his office where he showed Laura to a comfortable chair and offered her a cup of tea. He was quick to assure Andrew, “The large animals will be removed and I will personally see to it that they are more secure before they are set on display again.”
Cousin Reginald, who had wandered off on his own to another part of the hall, came rushing into the office. “What happened? Have you been harmed? I can't imagine having one of those ghastly creatures falling on me.” He flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his jacket.
Laura, having found her voice, assured him she was fine, and when Lord Covington suggested they return to the exhibit another day, she shook her head. “Oh no, my lord. I am quite well. I would like to see the remainder of the exhibit, if it pleases you.”
****
Andrew looked deep into Laura's eyes. To his relief, they didn't reflect pain, only awareness. It was the same awareness he felt whenever she was near. He felt a sudden urge to lean closerâ
“Cousin, I don't feel safe here,” Reginald complained. “Perhaps we should leave and return after the display creatures have been secured, as Mr. Nickerson has said.”
Laura turned to her cousin, severing eye contact, and Andrew felt the break as keenly as if she had cut it with a knife.
“I appreciate your concern, Cousin, but I am certain we will not be attacked by any more falling animals. Mr. Nickerson has removed them from the display, and I would dearly love to see the rest of the exhibit.” She spun back to Andrew and added, “That is, if Lord Covington agrees.”
Andrew nodded, though at that moment he would have agreed to almost anything Laura asked.
Three weeks later, Laura sat at one end of the elegantly decorated table, observing her sister. Cousin Reginald had not only agreed to the dinner party but had been eager to attend and invite his own friends. “I've been sadly lacking in my social obligations,” he'd said. “Make whatever plans you like, and I'll approve any related purchases.”
Lord Covington sat on Miranda's right, and Mr. Pembroke, third son of the Duke of Waterston, sat on her left. The three of them seemed to enjoy each others' company, she thought, although she couldn't hear the conversation. The half-dozen guests Laura had recommended had grown to sixteen, and the guests on either side of her kept her engaged in a discussion of the latest treatments for gout.
To Laura's surprise, once Miranda had decided on the guest list, she had shown an interest in other details. As soon as the pattern and fabrics for the new gown had been selected, she'd thrown herself into the plans, sampling and approving the menu, choosing the table decorations, and even approving the wording of the invitations, though Laura, as she had expected, actually penned the notes to the prospective guests.
The meal ended, and the ladies moved to the drawing room while Cousin Reginald and the gentlemen remained in the dining room. Miranda took Laura's hand and squeezed, her face alit with excitement.
“Laura, this evening is such a success! I believe Mr. Pembroke is truly interested in me.”
“That's wonderful, Miranda. I noticed you also conversed with the earl.”
“Lord Covington? He's nice enough, but he's so much older. He was married once, you know.”
Yes, I know.
“He's not so old. But I'm glad you're getting Mr. Pembroke's attention, if that's what you wish.”
And I'm glad I won't have to accept Andrew as a brother-in-law, she thought.
The sisters companionably entered the drawing room to see to their guests.
An hour later, after the men had rejoined the women, Miranda urged Laura to sit at the piano, so that she could start the evening's entertainment. Miranda had received vocal training from a choirmaster in her mother's native Austria, which she never hesitated to share in any discussion of music. Laura wasn't particularly impressed with Miranda's voice, but it was Miranda's party, and most of the people present were her guests. She sat on the bench and began to play the opening chords of a Beethoven arrangement of a German folksong.
Miranda launched into the song with gusto, and Laura couldn't help cringing as her sister reached for, but couldn't quite hit, some of the higher notes.
Suddenly, Miranda's voice stopped. Laura kept playing but spared a glance at her sister to find Miranda looking her way, panic in her eyes.