Heart Strings (Music of the Heart Book 1) (11 page)

He could fall in love with such a lady.

He wiggled his fingers. “You will like Esther. She’s very kind. If her own brother can say such a thing, it must be true, right?” He grinned.

A hint of a smile passed over her. Still, she made no move to take his hand. Instead, she continued staring warily at him.

He tried again. Gentler now, he said, “It would only be until you can find a place of your own.”

Her posture wilted as the fight drained out of her. “Very well.” She placed her hand in his.

As he wrapped his fingers around her small hand, a surge of protectiveness overcame him. Why he felt so compelled to help this near-stranger, he could not explain. Perhaps it was her desire to be independent that awakened a kinship in him, since he’d left his home with the same goal. A man trying to make it alone in the world was much less vulnerable than a young woman who attempted such a thing.

He almost smiled at the lie he tried to tell himself. He wanted to help her because he had grown to care about her—much more than he thought possible in such a short amount of time. She was fiercely independent and courageous, despite her desperate need, and made the best of her circumstances. He smiled as he recalled the way she’d shown up at the theatre, insisting she deserved a chance. Yet the vulnerability in her eyes tugged at his heart. Yes, he was, indeed, growing to care very much about Susanna Dyer.

They walked hand-in-hand like children down the middle of the streets, their steps falling in sync. Her small hand in his felt so very right, as if it had been designed for his and he’d only now discovered he’d been missing a part all this time.

Fog swirled at their feet, and a bell clanged off in the distance. Two young men staggered past them, arms linked and singing a bawdy song. Kit kept hold of her hand, tuned in to even the sound of her breathing.

“Is it far?” she asked.

“No. Just a few blocks over.”

Quietly she asked, “Why are you helping me, Kit?”

He grappled for an answer that would not make him sound mad or raise her expectations until he could determine, what exactly, his intentions were toward her. “Because my mother raised me as a gentleman.”

She smiled, clearly not quite believing his words. “Surely there is more to it than that.”

“That is a pretty compelling reason. ‘Tis my duty—my honor requires it.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Well, then I thank you, but your obligation to me does not need to continue. I do not wish to be so indebted.”

“You are not indebted. People helped me after I left home. I am returning the favor the only way I can.”

A few minutes later, they arrived in front of his sister’s house. Kit led her up the steps to the front door.

Susanna slowed her steps as she looked up at the elegant, tasteful structure. Her mouth dropped open. “Your sister lives here?”

He couldn’t decide if she were awed or frightened. He sent her a quick smile. “Yes, but don’t hold it against her.”

As luck would have it, the moment he reached for the doorknocker, his sister’s coach arrived. Turning, he watched his sister and brother-in-law emerge, laughing. They walked arm-in-arm toward the front door. As his sister caught sight of Kit, she released her hold on her husband’s arm and trotted up the last few steps.

“Kit!” She threw her arms around him. “How wonderful to see you.”

He chuckled. “I saw you last week, as I recall, Tess.”

“I’m just as happy to see you now! Come in, come in.”

“First, allow me to introduce Miss Susanna Dyer. She is the harpist for the time being in my orchestra and a gifted musician. Susanna, my sister, Esther Daubrey.” As his brother-in-law climbed the rest of the way up, watching them with an air of sophisticated amusement, Kit said, “And her husband, Robert Daubrey.”

Daubrey lifted his brow slightly at Kit’s omission of his title, but voiced no complaint.

Susanna curtsied prettily and said in low, musical tones, “A pleasure to meet you both.” Her fine breeding practically oozed from her.

With only a thinly-concealed look of delight aimed at Kit, Esther leaped to action, beaming at the unsuspecting girl. “Susanna, how lovely to meet you. May I call you Susanna? You don’t look like the type to stand on ceremony, but it if makes you uncomfortable, I can certainly call you Miss Dyer.”

Blinking at the flow of enthusiasm, Susanna smiled. “Susanna suits me just fine.”

“Then you must call me Esther. Or Tess. Do come in.”

Daubrey gave Kit a sidelong glance but followed Esther inside. Kit almost groaned out loud. His sister was probably already making wedding plans. He should have known she’d be as bad as his mother. And worse, his secret would be out soon and everything with Susanna would change.

Susanna grappled at her composure and tried not to gape like a country bumpkin at the splendor around her. The foyer surpassed the great hall back home with its sweeping ceilings, carved and gilded woodwork, marble floor, and a circular staircase out of a fairy tale. Potted plants and flowers scattered amid the gleaming surfaces softened the almost blinding grandeur. Was this awe-inspiring structure the home of a member of the
ton
, or a purchase by someone who’d made a fortune in trade? Either way, this mansion exceeded her childhood home in both size and opulence.

A surprisingly young butler took their coats and her portmanteau as Esther Daubrey, a trim, dark-haired lady near Susanna’s age, addressed the butler. “We’ll take refreshment in the back parlor.” She linked arms with Susanna and led her across the floor. “You simply must tell me about yourself.” She turned sparkling eyes, the same rich brown color as Kit’s, upon her.

With a nervous laugh, Susanna said, “There’s not much to tell.”

“Oh, don’t be modest. How on earth did you obtain a position as impressive as the harpist for an opera symphony? That’s quite an accomplishment, you know, especially for a woman.”

Susanna shrugged. “It’s not a great story. I happened to present myself at an opportune time; their harpist injured his hand, and they were desperate for a replacement. Although, to tell the truth, your brother kindly convinced the conductor to allow me to audition. Without him, I would never have been allowed inside the theatre. He must have been the angel for whom I had been praying.”

“My brother Kit?” Esther laughed. “That may be the first time anyone has called him an angel.”

“You should have heard her play, Tess; she silenced Alex.” Kit’s baritone rumbled from behind them.

“You must be truly magnificent, then. I’ve heard much about this Alex.” Esther led her to a floral settee near the fireplace. “It’s chilly tonight, isn’t it? So tell me; from where do you hail?”

“The nearest village is Bedford, in the Thames Valley.”

“And you are here for…what purpose? The Season?” She cast only the briefest glances at Susanna’s shamefully out-of-date and threadbare gown but her expression did not reveal her thoughts.

“I came to find a position as a harpist. I intend to make London my home.”

Something almost calculating, but not in a cold way, entered Esther’s eyes, as if she were fitting together pieces of a difficult puzzle. She was probably trying to figure out why her brother, who was obviously from money, spent time in the company of a penniless nobody garbed in clothes a scullery maid would have been embarrassed to wear in public.

Esther nodded. “How long have you been in London?”

“I arrived a few days ago.”

“And already secured a position as the orchestra’s harpist.” Esther smiled as if Susanna had achieved some miraculous feat. Which, really, she had—but only with Kit’s help.

Susanna clasped her hands together. “It’s only until the orchestra harpist returns, but I hope to have secured something long-term by the time they no longer need me.”

Esther nodded, watching her with mingled curiosity and amusement. Did she think Susanna was a completely green country girl? Or did her need of employment place her so far below Esther’s circle of friends that she might have well been a footstool?

Kit took a seat in a nearby armchair. “I’m sure you will find something by then.”

Esther glanced at him. “You know you are welcome any time, Kit, and I adore that you’ve brought me a new friend, but I suspect you aren’t here at this hour to make a simple social call.”

Kit’s mouth quirked into a grin and he exchanged glances with Susanna. “Right, as usual.”

Susanna’s mouth dried. She couldn’t possibly stay here amidst such opulence. She was now a member of the working class. She only owned two gowns, neither of which were fine enough for Esther’s servants, much less people in her social circle. Perhaps Esther would let her work here in some capacity. The problem was, Susanna had few skills and no knowledge of how to work as a servant.

Susanna shot to her feet. “Kit wanted me to meet you, that’s all. We really must be going. I am sure we are keeping you from your beds.”

Kit stood and reached for her hand, giving her a quelling look while still speaking to his sister. “Susanna has not yet found a suitable place to live and I was hoping you could allow her to stay here until she makes more permanent arrangements.”

Susanna rushed in, “But of course, this would be a terrible imposition on you and I—”

“Of course you can stay here,” Esther said. She glanced at her husband standing near the fireplace.

Daubrey inclined his head in return, his eyes alight as if he watched a diverting theatrical presentation. “Certainly.”

Susanna shook her head. “When Kit told me about you, I was expecting something less…” she gestured around at the parlor, its furnishings, the display of wealth. “Like this.”

Esther waved her hand negligently. “Oh, don’t mind this. Most of this old rubbish is a hundred years old and either in need of cleaning or updating. This big house and only the two of us, why it’s a waste. We’d be so pleased to have you stay here as our guest for as long as we can keep you.” She laid a hand on Susanna’s arm and leaned forward. “Do say you’ll stay. Not many of my friends are in town yet so I was dreading a lonely existence over the next few weeks until they arrive for the Season.”

Susanna glanced at Kit’s determined expression, and at Esther’s beseeching face, and lastly at Daubrey.

With a fond look at his wife, he took a pinch of snuff and said, “You’d best agree with her, Miss Dyer, or she’ll pester you until you give in anyway.”

Susanna let out a long breath. What choice did she have? She could sleep in the streets, with Kit dogging her every step, or she could race out into the night. Or, as they urged, she could be gracious, at least for tonight. Perhaps she’d find accommodations on the morrow.

She smiled self-consciously at Esther. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. I promise I’ll try not to be a bother.”

Esther clasped her hands together. “Oh, I’m so pleased and I’m certain you will be a sheer delight. Now that you are here, I have someone to go with me on walks and shopping expeditions. It will be so fun! Have you ever been to London before?”

“This is my first time,” Susanna said.

A tray of food arrived laden with oranges, strawberries, scones, Devonshire cream and jam along with tea. While Esther murmured instructions to the maid who nodded and slipped away, Susanna feasted on the delicious food. Her aunt seldom let her enjoy such a wonderful repast, citing that such fine foods were not to be wasted on poor relations. As Susanna ate the formerly forbidden foods, Esther outlined places she wanted to take Susanna.

They sounded truly marvelous, but how could she visit all those places in the company of a fine lady? Why, her gowns alone would be an embarrassment. And what if she really were stupid and backward as her aunt had told her for years?

Kit smiled at her over the tray. Susanna shot him a look of panic, but he only broadened his smile. He sat conversing with Daubrey, but his gaze returned to her with unsettling frequency. If she could manage to stop gawking at him for even a few minutes, she might not be so aware of his glance. In this room, in this world, he seemed as comfortable as he had been dining in a common tavern or as the concertmaster of a noted orchestra. His self-possession and assurance combined with his handsome face created an intimidating façade for such a kind and generous man. She had suspected early on that he was a member of one of the upper classes by birth, but entering his sister’s house had confirmed it. Despite his present occupation, he was clearly so far above her level that she could hardly believe he took enough interest to feed her and find her lodgings. Why had he even stooped to speak to her, desperate and ragged as she was?

Because he was kind, that’s why. No other reason.

Once they’d eaten their fill, Esther stood. “You must be as tired as we are. Come, I’ll show you to your bedchamber. It should be prepared by now.”

Susanna glanced at Kit. “Good night. And thank you.”

He bowed over her hand like a gentleman bowing over the hand of a lady. “It is my pleasure. Sleep well.” He handed the portmanteau to her.

She smiled when she wanted to weep. “I hope you do as well. Thank you for your kindness.”

Kit kissed his sister’s cheek. “Don’t wear her out dragging her all over town, Tess. She has performances every night except Sunday.”

“Of course, of course. Be off with you.” Esther waved her hand.

After a final glance that sent a tingle clear down to Susanna’s toes, Kit left.

Again, Esther linked arms with Susanna and led her upstairs. “I’m so glad you’re here, Susanna. I hope you don’t hurry overmuch to find another place to live.”

In what was surely the family wing, Esther brought Susanna to a lovely room much like her old bedchamber years ago. Soft pinks and rose adorned the bed and pillows on the chairs amid the Georgian-style furnishings. A cheery fire crackled in the fireplace, and candles burned on every table top.

When was the last time she’d been allowed more than one candle in her bedchamber? Such luxury!

Esther nodded at a maid who poured water from a bucket into a china pitcher. “I apologize for how small it is, but the larger rooms would have needed more time to prepare.”