Page 41 of The Spinster's Stolen Hear
Lord Davenport shot him a steely look out of the corner of his eyes. “Don’t play games with me, boy. I’m far too advanced in years for such frivolity. I have laid out my requirements of you, and now you must lay out yours. That’s how business is done. It’s howwehave always transacted business. You and I, and your father and me before you. Let’s not make this more complicated than it must be.”
Nathan sighed, passing a hand over his hair. “I am still thinking about it, Lord Davenport. It’s no reflection on Amanda’s qualities. I should not be offended if, should she receive a better offer, she took it.”
“If she’d received one, I’d counsel her to take it,” Lord Davenport retorted. “But Amanda made a few crucial missteps this Season, and now she must fall back on the old ways of doing things. She’s happy for me to arrange this match, and so that is what I am doing. Arranging it.”
The music ended with a flourish, so of course all private conversation was at an end. Smiling faintly, Nathan rose to his feet, clapping. Amanda beamed, curtsying. Lord Davenport clapped too, his heavy palms ringing out.
“Tea, then?” Lady Davenport asked crisply, having recovered from her embarrassment earlier. Amanda came straight across to Nathan, smiling up at him.
“Think carefully about how your reputation might suffer, should you renege on anyexpectationsyou may have given rise to,” Lord Davenport muttered. “Think very carefully indeed, my boy.”
Chapter Thirteen
Pippa played a wrong note. Cursing to herself, she tightened one of the violin strings, testing it carefully. She drew the bow across the strings and nodded to herself.
Much better.
The sun was going down, and although the day had been unusually warm, a chill was beginning to creep across the garden. Pippa had gone so far as to bring a lantern and a shawl out with her. She did not want to go inside just yet.
Instead of sitting on the terrace, where all could see her, Pippa had found a snug little corner around the side of the house. Fragrant flowerbeds and blooming hydrangeas clustered around a gazebo, and trees and shrubs with broad, green leaves provided a little shelter. There was a narrow bench inside the gazebo, and she made herself comfortable there to practice her violin.
It felt odd to play it inside, in a music room. Always, she had played in her father’s study, and then later, when they lived above the shop, she would have to go outside to a quiet place to play it, or risk annoying the shop-keepers downstairs.
“I thought I could hear you out here.”
She flinched at the voice, spinning around to find Katherine standing there. She looked tired, more so than recently, and her belly was larger than ever. Her time had to be getting close.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Katherine added, flashing a wry smile. “I couldn’t find you inside the house, and one of the servants mentioned they’d seen you come outside. I couldn’t spot you on the terrace, but then I heard the music. That’s a beautiful piece, by the way, but I’ve never heard it before. Which one is it?”
Pippa smiled shyly. “It’s my own composition. Just like the one I played at Cousin Henry’s garden party.”
She shuffled up on the bench, nervously gesturing for Katherine to sit beside her. Katherine did so, lowering herself with a wince.
“You are extremely talented, Pip,” Katherine said at last. “Your own composition? Eleanor told me that everybody was asking her afterwards what you’d played, and she couldn’t tell them. They would have complimented you on it, except that you were closeted with Lord Barwick, playing an endless game of chess. I believe some people tried to ask Aunt Bridget to pass on their compliments to you, but it rather seemed to irritate her.”
Pippa bit her lip and said nothing. Her mother had informed her that the violin was not really a ladylike instrument, and she should stick to tried-and-tested pieces, instead of her own ‘scrapings’.
“People are polite, Pippa,” Bridget had said curtly, “but you can never tell what they’re really thinking. Play a fashionable piece, and you’re sure to win smiles and applause. Play your own composition, and you’re taking a risk.”
She certainly hadn’t passed on any compliments.
Glancing up, Pippa found Katherine eyeing her closely, as if she could read her thoughts.
“Mama was never much taken with music,” Pippa said, softly. “Papa loved it, and so do I, but Mama only seems to care about me making a good marriage.”
“I sense that things are strained between you two at the moment. I don’t mean to pry,” she added hastily, “I only want to help. I’m not a fool, Pippa. It’s plain that you don’t much like Lord Barwick, yet Aunt Bridget insists on pushing you towards him anyway. It’s… it’s the kind of thing my own father would have done.”
Pippa pulled the violin close to her chest, almost hugging it like a doll.
“Were you close to your father?” she asked, in a rush.
Katherine’s face tightened in pain, and Pippa almost wished that she hadn’t spoken. It took a moment for her to respond.
“No,” Katherine said at last, “I wasn’t. He… he wasn’t the sort of man you could get close to. I hear that your father was very different?”
Pippa nodded. “He was the best father in the world. I miss him every day, still. He made Mama promise to take care of me, and to see that I could marry for love. I think perhaps she’s forgotten about that.”
Katherine was silent for a moment, considering. “I think Aunt Bridget is doing what she thinks is best for you. She’s lost sight of what matters most. But it’s up to you, Pippa, to stand up for yourself. If you don’t wish to marry Lord Barwick, you must say so.”
