Heart Strings (Music of the Heart Book 1) (17 page)

“Tea is in order, I believe. And then the dressmaker is coming to measure you and bring samples for gowns of your own.”

“Esther, please, I really cannot—”

“Now, now, we’ve been through this. No arguing. You agreed to one gown and I’m holding you to that.” Esther put her arm around Susanna. “I consider you a true friend. You are the sweetest, most unspoiled and delightful young lady I have ever had the privilege of knowing, and I can’t wait to show you off at my dinner party tonight.”

“I cannot imagine how I will manage a formal dinner party.”

“You will manage it as beautifully as you manage our family dinners. Your manners are impeccable, and you’re as fresh as a spring flower. Trust me, our guests will love you. Most of all, I expect my brother will once again be unable to keep his eyes off you.”

Susanna stared unseeing out of the window, reliving the exhilaration of having Kit so near. The way he’d touched her hand had left her giddy and sleepless most of the night. She quashed that thought.

“He is merely being gallant,” Susanna said. “I am a dull country miss with no hope of making a match with a fine gentleman.”

“You underestimate your appeal, my dear.” Esther smiled smugly.

Susanna only shook her head.

After arriving home and enjoying tea, fruit, and cakes, Susanna barely resisted rubbing her stomach in contentment. “I suspect you are trying to fatten me.”

“I am. You are far too thin. If you put on a little weight, your figure will fill out.”

Before Susanna had time to be embarrassed about the reminder of her lack of womanly charms, Esther added in a quiet voice, “You clearly haven’t eaten enough food on a regular basis in far too long.”

Susanna shrugged and looked away. Discussing such unhappy years served no purpose.

Gentle and concerned, Esther said, “You left because they were starving you?”

Susanna picked up a pillow decorated with needlepoint and hugged it. “I left because my aunt was insistent that I marry her nephew, Algernon.”

Ether’s mouth flattened. “What did she do, tie you to the bedpost and whip you until you agreed?”

“No, she threatened to lock me in my bedchamber until the wedding day.”

Esther let out an indignant huff. “Your aunt sounds like a selfish beast. I vow if I ever cross paths with her, I will cut her dead!”

Warmth and friendship trickled over Susanna, and she opened to it like a flower opens to a gentle summer rain. Notwithstanding her concern with how she might find employment and repay Esther—not to mention the underlying fear over the man who was after his reward money finding her again—these were some of the happiest days of her adult life.

Esther let out her breath in disgust. “So that’s why you left?”

“That, and because her son….” Heat roared through Susanna at the memory of Percy’s indecent proposal. Her brain shouted at her
to be silent, but she couldn’t seem to make herself stop divulging the shameful truth. “Her son, Percy, wanted me for… something less respectable. I feared he would….” She relived those terrifying moments when she feared he’d burst into her bedchamber. “I feared he would not respect my refusal.”

“Good heavens,” Esther said indignantly. “I’m almost of a mind to have Kit call out that bounder.”

The thought of Kit risking his life to face Percy with swords or pistols left her cold. “I don’t want Kit to endanger himself in a duel.”

“No, of course not, but that bully must be dealt with.” Esther let out another breath of frustration. “So that’s why you left so suddenly?”

Susanna nodded. “I’d hoped to secure employment as a harpist. It’s my only real skill.”

A servant arrived. “The modiste is here, milady.”

Esther stood. “Ah, excellent. Show them to my boudoir in a minute. We’ll go there now.”

Inside a sitting room decorated in gold and red, Esther pulled a low stool out to the middle of the floor. “When the time comes to measure you, you can stand on this. We’ll pick out styles first.”

The modiste and a young assistant arrived with boxes of samples and fashion engravings. While the woman measured her, Esther helped her select an evening gown in the most glorious shade of rose. She also provided a new chemise of soft linen that made Susanna’s look dingy and ragged by comparison.

As the modiste and her assistant gathered up their supplies, a corsetiere arrived with long stays to fit to Susanna. Blushing clear down to her toenails, Susanna stripped down to her chemise and tried on the new, stiff stays. Unlike the short stays she had always worn, which laced up the front, the long stays laced down the back. A flat, hard, wooden busk, or boning, about the width of her two fingers, ran right down the middle between her breasts to separate them.

As the corsetiere pinned to make adjustments, Esther broke in, instructing the corsetiere, “Don’t cut off the areas that need to be taken in—leave enough room in the seams to let them out as she puts on weight. I will ensure she isn’t this thin for long.”

Susanna longed to have the curves of a woman but doubted such a miracle existed. With an embarrassed giggle, she gestured to her bust line. “I probably won’t gain weight…here.”

“Trust me, you will.” Esther smiled like a woman with secrets. “Besides, Kit doesn’t seem to mind your figure as it is.”

Was it true? Did Kit truly not mind her diminutive figure? With a glance at the corsetiere who must have heard every word, Susanna blushed so hard she feared she’d heat the entire room.

The corsetiere’s expression never changed. Perhaps she’d grown accustomed to such talk. She spoke before Susanna could reply. “All done, miss. I’ll have these adjustments done in no time.”

“Do stay and complete the modifications on the stays here,” Esther said. “We need them in time for a dinner party tonight.”

“Yes, milady. Where can I work?” asked the corsetiere.

“Have the nearest footman show you belowstairs.”

Susanna would never have imagined being such a powerful lady that a shop keeper would come to her instead of needing to go shopping.

Three hours later, Susanna, refreshed after a nap and a bath, dressed. The crisp new fabric and the different style of her new long stays certainly enhanced her diminutive figure—far better than her old short stays. The center boning and the longer, stiffened fabric felt strange, and she required Polly to lace up the back, but she couldn’t deny the improvement to her figure. It also supported her back. Of course, she’d need to keep her short stays for the eventuality that she would need to dress without the aid of a maid.

Dressed in a cream silk gown that had been made over for her, her hair coiffed, and wearing her new perfume, Susanna glided downstairs to the drawing room. Kit caught her eye. He turned, and blinked, then gazed at her as if he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. As heat rushed through her, she smiled while her heart did a dozen crazy little flips.

For tonight, she would forget her past. She would not worry about finding employment. And she most certainly would not allow fears of her relatives or the man they’d sent after her to dim her enjoyment. Tonight, she would bask in the happy warmth of being in Kit’s company.

With a wistful sigh, she memorized the beauty of his features. Surely, she would not be allowed to admire them much longer. Still, she’d enjoy them while she could and tuck them away with her other Sweet Memories.

Kit gaped at the vision in a cream silk creation. This was his little waif? With color in her cheeks, a serene smile, and an aura of happiness around her, she glided into the room like a queen.

Forgetting whatever he’d been saying to Daubrey, Kit
moved to her side. She smelled amazing too. Her perfume was feminine and mysterious. Taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. “You look beautiful.”

Her endearing blush returned. “You do, too.”

“In truth?” He struck a pose. “You think so?”

Her color deepened but she didn’t duck her head. Instead, she raised her chin and met his gaze boldly. “Yes. I’ve never seen such a beautiful man.”

“Careful.” He grinned. “You might feed my arrogance too much.”

A charmingly teasing glitter entered her eyes. “You are also a talented musician. Have I told you that?”

He affected a pout. “No, I don’t believe you have. I was feeling rather out of sorts that you hadn’t fed my pride yet.”

She laughed softly. “Speaking of music, why aren’t you playing tonight?”

He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “I told Alex I had a vexing family obligation so the second chair is taking my place. Besides, I cannot bear to play that duet with anyone but you. The other principal harpist simply doesn’t perform with as much heart as you.”

She smiled so dazzlingly that he nearly dropped to his knees and begged her to marry him. He pictured spending his days with her, taking her on long rambles through the grounds around their home. He imagined teaching her to ride, and having picnics in a grassy meadow. Lastly, he conjured up images of a houseful of children playing music and laughing and chasing each other. The thought of marrying Susanna conjured warmth and a sense of completion.

She stood near enough that each motion, each breath sent shivers of awareness through him. Her intriguing scent—flowery, with citrus and something warm, evoked visions of kisses. Yes, he wanted very much to kiss her. He visualized kissing her any time he wanted, and even waking up with her in his arms.

From the foyer, the butler’s alarmed voice broke through his thoughts. “You cannot force your way in here. Sir!” Footsteps neared. “Sir!”

“This cannot wait,” said a strange male voice.

“My lord!” the butler burst in. “Forgive me, but these men insist on—”

That unfamiliar male voice interrupted. “I have a warrant for the arrest of one Susanna Dyer.”

Disbelief chilled Kit’s limbs. In the doorway, the harried-looking butler stood next to a grim-faced London constable and the bounder who had made a grab for Susanna in the streets.

“What?” cried Esther.

Susanna sharply drew in her breath. “Oh,” she said in tiny voice.

Kit took a protective step in front of her.

Daubrey sprang to action. “How dare you barge into my home?”

As both lawmen stiffened, the constable spoke in apologetic tones. “Sorry gov’na, but she is a thief. I have been instructed to see to it that she returns to face the local magistrate for her crime.”

Summoning the imperious expression he’d so often seen in his father and that of his brother, Kit held out his hand and commanded, “Show me your warrant.”

The constable handed over a document with an official seal at the bottom. Daubrey peered over his shoulder. With his heart turning to stone, Kit glanced at his brother-in-law.

Daubrey nodded. “It’s official.”

“Ridiculous. I don’t believe it,” Esther said.

Alarm shot down Kit’s back like a hundred beestings. He called upon every haughty, autocratic bone in his ancestry and drew himself up. “You cannot take her.”

“Sir, I understand that this may be—” the constable began.

“Lord.” Kit glared at him.

The constable’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Er…sir?”

Kit drew himself up and sneered. “Do you two thugs have any idea who we are?”

Both men paled and the constable managed an inarticulate. “Ah…”

The man from the country rallied first. “Don’t care. She’s a criminal, and you are interfering with justice.”

Susanna’s breath came in tiny gasps. “I’m not a criminal. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Kit looked down his nose at the cur. If it came to a fair fight, this man, built like a prize fighter, could probably best Kit. Still, Kit had weapons he would not hesitate to unleash. “I am Lord Christopher, son of the Duke of Charlemonte. You are in the home of my brother-in-law and sister, the Viscount and Lady Daubrey. If you think you can take their guest—and my betrothed—without irrefutable proof, you are sadly mistaken.”

Susanna sucked in her breath at his use of the word “betrothed” but kept silent. He didn’t dare look at her. This wasn’t the way he’d planned it, but the words had come tumbling out of him. The hired thug swallowed and the constable took a step back.

Fisting his hands, Kit pressed, “I require you to provide proof—and witnesses—of her so-called crime before I will consider escorting her to face her accusers and this magistrate who they clearly duped into swearing out a warrant for her arrest.”

The hired man’s face reddened. “Absolutely not. Lord or no lord, you are not above the law, and neither is your little tart.”

Kit’s temper snapped and he punched the bounder square in the face. “How dare you, sirrah!”

The hired man stumbled backwards and lost his balance. He sprawled on the floor. In a half-inclined position, he dabbed at his lip and shot a murderous glare at Kit. “You….”

The constable stepped in between them. “No need for all this. We can place her under house arrest and leave her here in the care of…Lord Daubrey, was it?”

Daubrey inclined his head.

“I’m sure we can get this matter cleared up,” the constable continued. “Please forgive the intrusion, milords. Milady.”

The London constable grabbed his companion and half-dragged him out, murmuring something about jurisdiction, magistrates, and how things are done in London.

A stunned silence fell.

“Those brutes,” Esther said, her eyes snapping. “How dare they come into our home like that.”

Kit turned to Susanna. All the color had drained out of her face.

He put a hand on either shoulder and peered into her eyes. “No magistrate will call for your forcible removal from a viscount’s home. As long as you stay within the grounds, they cannot touch you.”

Trembling, she fixed a sober look at him. “It wasn’t necessary for you to lie for me about being your betrothed.”

“It will strengthen our claim of protection on you.” He smiled. It had felt so natural to declare her to be his intended bride.

“I can’t stay here forever—I won’t impose on the Daubrey’s longer than I must.”

“When they can’t prove you’ve actually done anything wrong, they will be forced to drop the charges.” He touched her cheek.