Read Madrigals And Mistletoe Online
Authors: Hayley A. Solomon
Madrigals And Mistletoe (5 page)
The explanation was simple, but its impact profound. Captain Argyll laughed it off with a quick shake of his rugged shoulders but the duke knew that the nonchalance shielded a potent mixture of gratitude and pride. It would have been unbecoming in him to share this awareness, so he accepted the captain's shrug at face value and skilfully turned the topic.
“Care for a game of chess? I have been on pins to try out this set. Caught sight of it at Michener's and I believe it will serve. The pieces are excellently weighted and I have a strange fancy for the design.”
Frederick leant forward and looked at the pieces carefully. The king and queen were wrought simply but elegantly, hand tooled with garlands for crowns in the classical Roman style. Each piece was slightly but subtly different, with expressions apparent in the face of each piece. Even the wood was specialâsandalwood from the East and a strange new timber called “rata” from the South.
He shook his head ruefully. “Best save the set for someone who can play, Rhaz! I fear I will disgrace myself abysmally if I were to take you on!”
“For shame, Frederick! As if I care a rap for that!”
But the captain was resolute. He did not wish to play. Rhaz sighed and set the pieces carefully back on the board. No sense in coaxing Frederick. A lesser man would yieldâthis second son of an earl would not.
“I insist you sing then! I am as bored as sin!”
“What?” Frederick looked shocked. “The famous Duke of Doncaster? The arbiter of fashion? The very pink of the ton?”
“Have done, Frederick, or I shall do more than merely douse you with wine!”
The good captain laughed. “I shall be awake to that suit. You shan't catch me sleeping twice, my good lord.”
The duke's lips twitched and a dangerous smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Very well, Freddie! I shall take that as a due challenge. And now, I beg you, desist from teasing and do what you do best. If you are not up to singing I have purchased a tolerable violinâmore's the pity, for I find that I cannot
play
the wretched instrument! Show me how it is done, or I fear I shall have to return it with a vile note to the makers. My valet threatens to find another post, for he cannot abide the scratching.”
play
the wretched instrument! Show me how it is done, or I fear I shall have to return it with a vile note to the makers. My valet threatens to find another post, for he cannot abide the scratching.”
Lord Frederick Argyll chuckled and stood up. “Hand me the instrument, Rhaz! I own I feel almost sorry for it!”
The duke obediently fetched the old golden brown violin. As Frederick took the bow and tuned it up reverentially, his grace allowed his thoughts to wander.
Miss Cordelia Camfrey again. He sighed and tried to dismiss the memory of her low, well-modulated voice and speaking grey eyes. The soft curve of her lips as she trustingly appealed to him was particularly difficult to summarily remove from his thoughts. He was taken with herâevery muscle of his strong, sinuous frame told him that as if his mind was not already apprised of the notion. What he could not understand was
why
he was so attracted. She was nothing
like
any of the young eligibles his eager, misguided, thoroughly doting mother seemed to imagine might appeal. Nor was she like any of his somewhat
less
insipid ladybirds. . . . He drew himself up short. Cordelia was not to be compared to that category. What, then? What was it about her that allured him so and wreaked such havoc upon his equilibrium?
why
he was so attracted. She was nothing
like
any of the young eligibles his eager, misguided, thoroughly doting mother seemed to imagine might appeal. Nor was she like any of his somewhat
less
insipid ladybirds. . . . He drew himself up short. Cordelia was not to be compared to that category. What, then? What was it about her that allured him so and wreaked such havoc upon his equilibrium?
Her beauty, though substantial, was
worlds
away from the stunning guinea-gold hair and azure eyes he found he preferred. Even her
sister's
curling auburn tendrils were more likely to please than the long, jet black strands that escaped their pins and just outlined the nape of her neck with soft, fluffy tendrils. Though slender, she was nonetheless too rounded in parts to quite match to his taste for willowy slim women in languishing, statuesque poses. He thought a little harder. Honesty? Yes, there was that undoubtedly. He admired her for it. His sampling of womankind in the past did not lead him to have too much in the way of expectation in this regard. His mother, certainly, was a prime example of the guile and conniving he found typical to the female sex. In the most benevolent way, of course, she was scheming and tirelessly underhand. He smiled as he thought on his latest ploy to foil her. She would no doubt be
quite
overset by his absence from town.
worlds
away from the stunning guinea-gold hair and azure eyes he found he preferred. Even her
sister's
curling auburn tendrils were more likely to please than the long, jet black strands that escaped their pins and just outlined the nape of her neck with soft, fluffy tendrils. Though slender, she was nonetheless too rounded in parts to quite match to his taste for willowy slim women in languishing, statuesque poses. He thought a little harder. Honesty? Yes, there was that undoubtedly. He admired her for it. His sampling of womankind in the past did not lead him to have too much in the way of expectation in this regard. His mother, certainly, was a prime example of the guile and conniving he found typical to the female sex. In the most benevolent way, of course, she was scheming and tirelessly underhand. He smiled as he thought on his latest ploy to foil her. She would no doubt be
quite
overset by his absence from town.
“Head in the clouds, Rhaz?” The instrument was tuned but the duke had not noticed. Frederick rested the bow on a chair and fingered the violin idly, a small signet flashing red on his clean, well-kept hands.
“Possibly.” There was a slight drawl to the duke's words that alerted Frederick to something out of the ordinary.
“Dare I guess the direction of your musings?”
“You may, though I take leave to inform you you may be far out!”
“I'll take the chance!” Frederick looked deep into one of the single flames that flickered from ice-white candles scattered strategically about the room. He stared for a moment; then a slow smile crossed his strong, sun-soothed features. “I see a woman.”
Rhaz snorted. “You
always
see a woman!”
always
see a woman!”
Frederick set the violin down and leaned closer towards the flame. He scowled at his best friend. “Hush! Desist from all disparaging sounds! I see . . .”
“I'll tell you what
I
see! A muttonheaded, shimbleshambleâ”
I
see! A muttonheaded, shimbleshambleâ”
“Be quiet! I see dark hair and the faint whisper of a smile, delicate cream . . .”
Rhaz closed his eyes. The description was dangerously close to the truth and all his senses began to reel.
“Stop it, I say!”
Chestnut curls bobbed up cheekily. “Am I close then?”
Rhaz would not give Freddy the satisfaction. Besides, he had no wish to have Cordelia's identity guessed at, or bandied, even playfully, about town.
“No! You are far out actually! If you must know, my tastes have taken a turn for . . . for . . .” He searched his mind for something his tastes might have taken a turn for. Seraphina's fulsome beauty popped conveniently into his thoughts. “Auburn!” he called out in relief.
Frederick looked at him suspiciously. Rhaz was behaving rather strangely and that was a fact. If he had not known the duke better he would have thought . . . He shrugged his shoulders. If that was the way the wind lay with his grace, he would tease him no more.
With a faint, dismissive smile on his features he merely cocked an interested brow and took up the violin, glimmering like burnished gold in the candlelight.
The remainder of the evening was transformed from the merely pleasant to the utterly memorable. When the last strains of the violin's “Ode to Starlight” faded gently into the air, the duke opened his eyes and nodded. There would be no need to frank Lord Frederick. If he was not feted as the greatest composer of the decade, the duke would be sadly off the mark.
It would have been a comfort to Lord Frederick to know that the duke was rarely, if ever, far wrong.
FIVE
Pendleton took a deep breath and swallowed the excitement welling up in his throat. It was not every day he was obliged to announce nobility. It was one in the eye for his archrival Pinkerton, who was perennially puffed up because his mistress was sister to an earl. An earl? Hah! Today Pendleton was to announce no less a personage than a duchess.
He fingered his livery, checking carefully to see that the frogged lapels were all in order. Silver on blue. He was rather proud of the uniform, for it gave him a certain air. Higgins, of course, looked too lanky for the garb and Darrows seemed always to appear as if he had been dragged backwards across a meadow by a very angry bull. He would take good care to see that Darrows was ensconced in the servant's quarters when her grace made her arrival.
Thank heavens that nodcock groom at least knew his business. The duchess's cattle would be safe with him so long as he was not required to do too much in the way of headwork.
Pendleton looked at the time. Gone quarter past already and no sign of the heavy wheels upon the stone paving outside. He felt a trifle anxious and considered removing his coat. If only Mrs. Stevens had not stoked the fire so hot! Still, she had been in a frenzy of baking, the little angel cakes only now sitting neatly on a rack cooling. Together with the jam tarts, gingerbread, raspberry water ice and wafer-thin sandwiches, it would be a regular feast, it would.
The sound of hooves brought Pendleton out of his reverie. Instantly, he was bellowing orders at two of the underservants and admonishing Darrows not to set a foot above stairs. Then, with a stately and orderly pace, he made his way out to the front door. He had a long wait, for the carriage was stabled before the duchess alighted, her broad body laden with such essentials as a sturdy walking stick, a tippet, a fan, a reticule of tremendous proportions and something very like an oversized redingote of purple hue.
Pendleton was much impressed with the peacock feathers that flowed majestically from her turban. They appeared most suitable to her consequence and invited stares from servants as far beyond his realm as number five, Conduit Street. Since this particular was likely to add to his own consequence, he was more than satisfied, despite being directed to carry several of her numerous belongings.
By the time her grace was announced, tea was already neatly laid out and the Camfrey girls becomingly arranged on sofas of pale blue. Cordelia managed to contain her curiosity by counting all the stitches in a tapestry just above Ancilla's head. Seraphina, sad to say, was not as restrained. Almost as soon as she had made her curtsy to the duchess, she was plying her with questions. She was not so bold as to ask directly after Rhaz, but the duchess would have been a fool not to understand the direction her thoughts were taking.
Strangely, she did not depress Seraphina's attentions, but rather scrutinised her closely and even rapped her, at one stage, with the stick of her fan. Seraphina's stifled yelp of pain almost caused Cordelia to giggle. Fortunately, she overcame the urge and thus appeared to be very pretty behaved, though rather prim.
Ancilla was almost as curious as her younger daughter. After exchanging pleasantries with the duchess, she recommended her to the angel cakes and confessed her surprise at the visit.
The duchess chuckled a hearty, earthy kind of a laugh and wagged her finger in Ancilla's face. “I don't
doubt
you are surprised, Ancilla! It is an age at least since we spoke. You were a rackety young thing at Miss Caxton's and I
do
believe you have not changed since then!”
doubt
you are surprised, Ancilla! It is an age at least since we spoke. You were a rackety young thing at Miss Caxton's and I
do
believe you have not changed since then!”
Ancilla, never inclined to believe she was forty, blushed slightly and, to Cordelia's amazement, started stammering like a schoolgirl. The duchess waved her hand airily and bade her not to take anything she said into account, for she knew she was a managing old soul and sincerely had no wish to offend.
The unexpected kindness struck Cordelia, who had certainly conceived the duchess to be an old tartar, incapable of the sort of civility to which Ancilla had become accustomed. The ice somewhat broken in this airy fashion, tea was poured and the conversation steered to less dangerous waters. No doubt her grace would state her object by and by.
Every so often she would rummage in her reticule and draw out her lorgnette, which she would affix to her eyes and use to stare at Seraphina in particular. The younger Miss Camfrey took not the least offence, for she knew she was in excessive good looks, her ravishing auburn hair coiled in the very height of fashion. She was wearing a canary morning dress of striped organdie, the bodice cut low in an artful square. A tiny chemisette of gold fichu preserved her modesty, but all the same, her charms were apparent and for the gentleman, at least, most appealing.
Cordelia, too, was in looks, but hers were of the gentler nature. She wore a turquoise muslin overdress with an apron front, high waisted in the fashionable mode and trimmed with a single ribband of snowy white. Her kid slippers exactly matched that of the ribband, but no one was to know this, for they were demurely tucked beneath the folds of her skirts. Seraphina, on the other hand, appeared to have little compunction in allowing her dainty buckled pumps to be displayed. Despite a heavy frown from Cordelia, she amiably allowed her stockinged ankles to make their shocking appearance from time to time. The duchess seemed not to mind, for she surveyed the ankles with impunity and emitted a rasping sort of laugh that appeared to denote satisfaction of sorts.
“Prime enough piece, ain't she?” she remarked. Ancilla, divining her grace was referring to her youngest and dearest, nodded emphatically and declared she was, despite her obvious lack of ability at the pianoforte and other gentler accomplishments.
At this, her grace chortled and afforded Ancilla a sharp stare. “Some men don't care a
button
for such poppycock! By all accounts my
son
don't seem to care a tuppence ha'penny for such fandangled nonsense!”
button
for such poppycock! By all accounts my
son
don't seem to care a tuppence ha'penny for such fandangled nonsense!”
At last, then, the duchess was coming round to the subject of her visit. The very thought of Rhaz and his appreciative eyes stirred the older Miss Camfrey deeply, but she did not show it, for above clutching the little handle of her teacup overhard, her face remained impassive.
Seraphina's eyes sparkled as she nodded vigorously. “Indeed, ma'am, I believe that may be true, for your son, you know, rescued me from a most
shocking
coil! He seemed not to mind overmuch that my song was off-key and my register sadly flat! I declare if he had not come to my aid the other evening, I would have been quite undone!”
shocking
coil! He seemed not to mind overmuch that my song was off-key and my register sadly flat! I declare if he had not come to my aid the other evening, I would have been quite undone!”
At this, the duchess nodded her head sagely, stating that most likely she would have been ruined, for a young lady without accomplishments was hardly worth a sou on the marriage mart. Seraphina was inclined to take her up on this, but sank back into her chair, suddenly silenced. Cordelia hoped the duchess's hasty words would have the unexpected outcome of making Seraphina more reconciled to the arrival of her music master.
Just as she conceived those thoughts, Pendleton interrupted with an apologetic frown upon his face. It appeared that Captain Argyll had arrived, but without forewarning there was nothing prepared in the servant's quarters. He had mentioned something about the King's Arms, but . . .
“Nonsense, Pendleton! Admit him at once! His possessions may be deposited in the guest chamber above stairs.” Ancilla turned to the duchess. “I would dislike it excessively if he were forced to kick his heels in the foyer. I interviewed the man yesterday and can vouch that he has breeding, at least, if not birth!”
The duchess raised her eyebrows a fraction and helped herself to a sugared bun. Mrs. Camfrey looked suddenly uncertain. “That is, if you do not mind . . . ?”
“Mind?” Her grace looked querulous. “It is
your
home, Ancilla! If you wish to admit upper servants to your drawing rooms there is nothing to be said against it!” Deceptively amiable, the barb on the duchess's tongue was quite lost on Ancilla, who smiled happily and reiterated her orders to Pendleton.
your
home, Ancilla! If you wish to admit upper servants to your drawing rooms there is nothing to be said against it!” Deceptively amiable, the barb on the duchess's tongue was quite lost on Ancilla, who smiled happily and reiterated her orders to Pendleton.
Seraphina's face instantly turned mutinous, but under the watchful stare of the duchess, she could hardly vent her spleen. She determined at once that she would be gracious but aloof. If the music master saw immediately that she was not a mere chit out of the schoolroom, he might revise his treatment of her.
Seraphina, indeed, hoped that he would instantly hand in his notice, for it was one thing to engage to tutor a schoolroom miss, quite another to tackle a young lady of the first stare. Seraphina knew she was that, for she had been offered numerous rides in the park and particular attentions by gentlemen of quite superior rank. The experience was quite heady for one of her youth and innocence. Cordelia just hoped that the novelty would not turn her head, because for all her frothiness she was very good-natured and an excellent little sister.
They had not long to wait, for Captain Argyll had been deposited not in the foyer, as Ancilla suspected, but in the blue salon just adjacent to the more formal receiving room. He entered briskly and with a good-humoured smile made his bow. Ancilla made the introductions, the duchess condescending to slightly nod, the only evidence of this being a slight bending in one of the plumes on her turbaned head.
Captain Argyll looked a little shocked to see her. This instantly served to restore a modicum of her good humour, since she naturally assumed he was suitably awed and honoured by her presence. Of course, it was no such thing. Captain Argyll was merely stunned to see his best friend's mother grace what he had thought a rather shabby and provincial residence. Indeed, the duchess's presence alarmed him somewhat, for if his pupil moved in the first circles, his secret would be harder to keep. He just prayed Mrs. Camfrey would not take it into her head to travel to Bath. If she did, he would be undone indeed.
None of these thoughts showed on his face as he gravely acknowledged Cordelia, then Seraphina in turn. Whilst the elder Miss Camfrey curtsied prettily and murmured something quite suitable to the occasion, Seraphina was struck dumb. Cordelia had been anxious that her sister would say something outrageous to offend. Instead, it was nothing of the kind. She was gaping like a fish and needed to be prompted before making a rather harum-scarum curtsy and blushing quite delightfully.
For Seraphina, livelyâmischievous, naughty Seraphinaâhad just made a most unsuitable discovery. In less than a second she had fallen for her music master and all the activity in the room faded into nothingness as her eyes met and held quite the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
If Captain Argyll felt a similar stirring, nothing in his demeanour suggested it. He gravely took Seraphina's gloved fingers in his and promised to do his best by her. She made no objection to this rather high-handed pronouncement, but rather gazed soulfully into his eyes and suggested they adjourn at once to the music room.
Ancilla's eyes met Cordelia's over their heads. Her expression was so outrageously smug that the elder daughter nearly choked. She wouldn't have put it past Ancilla to choose a music master so charming that Seraphina would not make the faintest protest at having to practice her lessons. Ancilla's way was always the most flighty, but in the strangest manner she invariably achieved what she wanted.
The duchess looked slightly disapproving, commenting that, whilst Seraphina undoubtedly needed to hone her musical skills, the haste seemed unwarranted. The younger Miss Camfrey had the grace to blush and Cordelia rushed to the rescue, stating that both sisters had been certain the duchess would want to be private with their mama and so had arranged for other afternoon activities. At this, her grace inclined her head regally and acknowledged that this was so. She
did
wish to speak alone with Ancilla.
did
wish to speak alone with Ancilla.
Captain Argyll's clear blue eyes meekly met those of the duchess and Mrs. Camfrey. He allowed himself to be steered out by both sisters without so much as a backwards glance.
Her grace produced her lorgnette once again and stared out past him. A puzzled frown furrowed her forehead as she tapped her stick against the floor. “I have the oddest notion I have seen that boy before!”
Ancilla shook her head. “Impossible, your grace! I personally inspected his references and they state quite positively he has been out of England gone on ten years now. He has been situated in Spain, Italy and India I believe.”
Since the references had been hastily scrawled by the captain himself, he had found it necessary to deal in half-truths, sketchily outlining a life abroad that
could
have been true, had he not been otherwise engaged in doing service to king and country. Of course, the Iberian War had kept him on the Peninsula for close on two years, so the Spanish part of the fabrication was semiveracious at least. The duchess remained unconvinced, but she shook her head at the memory that was patently eluding her.
could
have been true, had he not been otherwise engaged in doing service to king and country. Of course, the Iberian War had kept him on the Peninsula for close on two years, so the Spanish part of the fabrication was semiveracious at least. The duchess remained unconvinced, but she shook her head at the memory that was patently eluding her.
“Yes, well, we are not here to discuss music masters I suppose!”
Ancilla desisted from asking what they
were
here to discuss. Of late she had learned patience and her grace would probably not take kindly to prompting. She therefore assented with a half smile and poured a cup of the chamomile.
were
here to discuss. Of late she had learned patience and her grace would probably not take kindly to prompting. She therefore assented with a half smile and poured a cup of the chamomile.
“I don't doubt your thoughts are heading in exactly the same direction as mine!” The duchess burst out with this remark so fiercely that Ancilla nearly dropped her cup.
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