Page 85 of Sweet Siren
"Now, I have two things to show you." He took her hand and led her toward the drawingroom.
There, against the vermilion walls, framed by fresh flowers in huge vases, he'd hung the portrait by Delacroix of Chopin. Playing the man's compositions as she did often when they were in their London house in Piccadilly, she laughed when Killian had told her he owned the piece. "Even if it's only half of theoriginal."
"Half? Why?" she'd asked,shocked.
"No idea. Some ass cut the canvas and here is Chopin by himself. Alone. Poorbugger."
But today, Chopin looked verydifferent.
Or beneath his portrait, standing boldly forth in the north corner near the large stone fireplace was a new element. A huge black grandpiano.
She halted in her tracks. "Killian."
"It arrived while you were out." He led her to the marvelous piece and offered her the long bench. "Will you sit? You look like you should,darling."
"Killian. Oh, my. A concert grand piano? For thecountry?"
"Do you likeit?"
"Oh, Killian. I'd be quite insane not to adore it." She ran her hands over satin finish and the golden inscription of the manufacturer's name. "By Blüthner? You had this shipped fromLeipzig?"
"I ordered it from their agent in Cavendish Square. You read that Richard Strauss owns one. I think you need one, too. Besides, I want to hear you play often. When you come in from work on your houses. When you're happy. In the afternoons, as you did last year when you filled Willowreach with calm andjoy."
She spun and rushed into his arms. And kissed him, kissed him, kissed him. "There's been so much to do, I'd forgotten how I miss it. How I loveit."
"I want you to enjoy every minute here," he said as he grinned ather.
"How could I not? I'm with you. You are my every dream cometrue."
"As you are mine, my darling." He pulled away, a devilish grin flowing over his features, and took her wrist again. "Come now. There'smore."
"More? More what? Where are we going? I have to talk toyou."
"Soon. Come along, Mrs. Hanniford. You will love thisnews."
"I liked this lastbit."
"This one's different. Old.Rare."
"You're being mysterious,Hanniford."
"I know." He led her from the drawing room down the hall and out past the orangeries to the terrace. "Stand here. Close youreyes."
She did as she was told. The breezes off the shores wafted through her hair and refreshed her face. "Ready."
"You remember theDominicans?"
"Ofcourse."
"And theTemplars?"
"Ido."
"Hmmm. Well, then. I saw old man Dunwoodytoday."
"All right." When Killian had purchased the land, he had Carruthers tell the old fisherman that he would not be dispossessed of his home. In fact, Killian had arranged it with the land agent that the plot on which Dunwoody's cottage stood was his, free and clear in perpetuity. They saw him each morning as he walked the beach. A happy man because Killian had made him so. "And what? Have you given him somethingmore?"
"No. He came up to talk soon after you took the carriage down to town. And he has given us agift."
