Heart Strings (Music of the Heart Book 1) (21 page)

She shook her head and then met his gaze. “I should have known. She lied to me.” Her brow creased. Then she straightened and a hard look came into her eyes. “She lied about everything.
Everything
.”

Kit sat next to her. “It’s possible she wanted you to wed Algernon because he agreed to give her part of your dowry.”

Her eyes took on a distant stare as she no doubt relived atrocities of her youth. Pain and anger passed over her in alternating strikes, and she winced under each blow. His hand curled into a fist. He didn’t know whether to confront the lying blackguards and demand they apologize, or simply cut them from Susanna’s life.

Susanna pressed a hand to her head. “That explains a great deal.”

Esther smiled. “Oh, Susanna, don’t you see? There’s no reason for you to think you oughtn’t marry Kit.”

Susanna turned wide eyes to Kit. “No, there doesn’t appear to be….”

He swallowed. Her kisses last night had seemed so promising. Did she harbor doubts now in the light of day?

Searching her face, he took her hand. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? You will still allow me court you, won’t you?”

She met his gaze unflinchingly. For a long moment she said nothing. Kit’s heart pounded so hard he feared he’d expire on the spot. Then her mouth curved.

She put a hand on his cheek. “No, Kit, I haven’t changed my mind. No need for a courtship. I already know I love you.”

He almost forgot to breathe.

The light in her eyes spilled out and filled him. She smiled. “I will marry you, but let’s not elope. I want to have a church wedding, and I want your family present.”

Joy leaped up and filled every crevice of his heart. He let out a breath that ended with a weak laugh. “Anything, my love.” He wrapped her in his arms. “Oh, my sweet Susanna, I love you. I vow I will do all I can to make you happy.”

Joyful tears filled her eyes. “My dearest Kit, you already have.”

That night, Kit arrived at the theatre early with his thoughts filled with Susanna. His future with her seemed bright with promise and joy. The opera had three more days scheduled to run before closing night, and only Kit’s commitment brought him there this evening. As soon as the opera closed, Kit would end his career as a violinist and spend his evenings with the love of his life. Once his attorney finished clearing Susanna of the false charges laid against her by her greedy family, Kit and Susanna would wed and begin their life together.

As he tuned and warmed up, other members of the orchestra came in, their voices and instruments creating a familiar raucous.

The principal harpist came in, and something about his movements caught Kit’s attention. The harpist limped and seemed to move stiffly. Kit watched him. Did he have a blackened eye?

Arpeggios on the harp rang out, a much harsher tone than those Susanna’s softer touch created as again the opera harpist attacked the instrument as if he meant to bend it to his will. How different from the gentle touch Susanna used to coax beauty from the harp.

The harpist glanced at him and quickly looked away. His hair stuck out all over as if he’d been tugging on it. Was there a patch missing over his ear? Kit took a closer look at the musician, noting his swollen, purple eye. There had been no such visible injuries on the man during the prior evening’s performance. What had happened to him since then?

He sauntered over to the harpist. “Meet with another accident?”

The harpist gave a start. “Oh, er, no. I just….fell.” He glanced at Kit with annoyance and—was that malice?—but covered it up by tuning the harp.

As the harpist tuned, his hands caught Kit’s attention. They appeared reddened, as if they’d recently been used to punch something. Or someone. If Kit were to hazard a guess, the musician looked as if he’d been in a fight.

The memory of the fight with Susanna’s attacker sprang into his mind. During the scuffle, Kit had punched the blackguard in the eye. He could not be certain which one, however. Surely the harpist’s blackened eye was a coincidence. The harpist would have no reason to attack Susanna. They’d never even met.

“No damage to your hands, I hope?” Kit said conversationally.

“I can play just fine—better than that upstart little tramp you’ve been seen all over town with.”

Kit gaped at the venom coming from the man’s mouth. He took a step forward “She is a lady, and I won’t have you besmirching her reputation.”

“I heard what you said to the conductor about her being better than I am. Half the orchestra heard it. No little tramp from the country plays as well as I. This is
my
position.
My
harp.”

Cold chills raced down Kit’s back. “It was you—in the garden. You stabbed her!”

The harpist lowered his gaze and said sullenly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if she got stabbed, then she had it coming.” A strange light of…madness?...entered his eyes.

Kit relived their fight, recalling every punch. He had wrested the knife out of the attacker’s hand, hit the man in the eye, and punched him in the stomach. The opponent had fallen in his flight to get away from Kit but had leaped up and ran with a limp through the garden gate out into the street. Kit had lost him in the darkness.

The harpist had a blackened eye and a limp. His ribs probably pained him.

Kit dredged up a smile and said, “Well then, you probably aren’t sore here.” He pressed on the harpist’s ribs on the left side.

The harpist grunted, his face twisted in pain. “Hands off me, swine.”

“It was you.” Kit fisted his hands.

A crowd formed around them.

Kit took another step toward the harpist. “After you stabbed Susanna, I punched you in the eye and the stomach, and you twisted your ankle running from me.”

“No one touches my lady.” He stroked the harp and crooned to it.

Kit folded his arms when he wanted to put a fist through his face. “You might be interested to know that you failed to harm Miss Dyer; she is perfectly well.”

The harpist’s eyes widened and then grew dark. “The little tart. She won’t be so lucky next time.”

Kit’s vision turned red. He punched the blackguard. Probably too many times. Eventually someone dragged Kit off the sobbing harpist, who continued to gesture at his harp, calling it his lady. The authorities took the mad harpist into custody where he would be of no further threat.

Just outside the Daubrey’s drawing room, Susanna halted to gather her skittering courage. Seeing her relatives would take more courage than she’d ever possessed—running away and facing an uncertain future had been less terrifying than confronting those from whom she’d run. Kit had seen to it their false charges were dropped, but Susanna needed to face them one more time, if nothing else than for the satisfaction of standing up to them. Witnessing them receive a humbling set down wouldn’t hurt, either.

She entered. All her old fears returned the moment Aunt Uriana came into view. Her aunt surveyed the room with mingled envy and disdain. Sitting next to her, Uncle yawned and stared off into space, no more interested in these proceedings than he had been in his niece beyond her ability to play the harp for his enjoyment. It was a wonder he had bestirred himself enough to make the journey. Next to Aunt Uriana sat Cousin Percy and Algernon. Percy’s eyes were alight with interest in his surroundings, but Algernon picked at his fingernail, his mouth hanging open in that same vacant expression that she’d come to associate with him unless he was striking a servant or kicking a dog.

Kit sat with all the regal confidence of a king, staring them down as if they were snails in a flower bed. In a nearby leather armchair lounged Daubrey, wearing the bored indifference of a lord. Next to him sat Esther who glared as if she were about to scratch out someone’s eyes.

Seeing her new friends, and especially the man she loved, restored her confidence. She glanced again at the assembly. Her relatives were not all-powerful beings in control of every aspect of her life; they were only thwarted mortals whose selfishness could no longer hurt her.

Kit stood. “Ah, Susanna, my love. How good of you to join us.” He crossed the drawing room and took her hand. As he raised it to his lips, he said under his breath. “Are you sure you wish for this meeting? You can still leave now.”

She nodded. “I need to do this.”

A gentle smile curved his mouth and approval glittered in his eyes. He tucked her arm around his, and led her back to the group where he seated her next to him on a large, upholstered Ottomane couch, leaving their guests to sit on the less comfortable settee all crowded together.

Aunt Uriana looked her over with narrowed eyes.

Susanna cast a glance over them and said evenly, “Good day.” Instead of curtsying, she only gave them the briefest incline of her head.

Uncle’s expression sharpened, and he looked at her as if he’d never seen her. Percy’s eyes traveled over her, widening in appreciation and mild surprise. Algernon only gave her the briefest of glances before he starting chewing on a cuticle and propping up his gouty foot on the low table in front of the settee. Aunt Uriana, however, shot her a stare that might have frozen her solid in seconds, but Susanna straightened and lifted her chin, deflecting her aunt’s former power over her.

Daubrey spoke. “Now that we are all together, we can talk this through like civilized adults.”

Aunt Uriana let out a humph. “There’s little to say, my lord. She ran away from home. She must return at once.”

Susanna shook her head. “No aunt. I will not return. Not ever.”

Aunt Uriana blustered. “Why, you…”

Kit’s thumb caressed Susanna’s hand. “Since she is over the age of eighteen, you are no longer her legal guardians. She may live anywhere she pleases and marry whomever she wishes.”

Aunt Uriana continued to bluster. “She is supposed to marry my nephew, Algernon. The banns have already been read.”

Susanna watched her aunt with mingled disgust and pity. Why had she ever allowed this woman to dominate her? “That is of little consequence. I am engaged to be married to—” she caught herself before she called him Kit—“Lord Christopher, and he is the only one I will accept as my husband.”

The blustering turned to true, red-faced anger. “You must marry Algernon or it will scandalize him and label
you
…” she glared, “…as a jilt.”

Outrage rose up inside of Susanna. “I never wanted to marry Algernon, and you know it. I only pretended to agree so you wouldn’t lock me in my bedchamber and starve me into submission.”

With a guilty glance at Kit and the Daubreys, Aunt Uriana said, “Oh, good heavens, what rubbish.”

Kit used the same authoritative voice he’d used with the constable. “Susanna may live anywhere she chooses. And that is final. As to her being labeled a jilt, no one will dare speak out against the daughter-in-law of a duke. This…” he glanced at Algernon...“Algernon, was it? Will have to find himself another bride, if anyone will have him.”

Algernon frowned and screwed up his face. “But, I—”

Kit cut him off. “Now, let’s move on to the next item of consideration. Your charges against her. You hired someone to go after her, claiming that she stole something.”

Uncle raised his brows as if this claim were news to him.

“Yes. She stole a piece of jewelry.” Aunt Uriana pursed her lips and fidgeted with her sleeve.

Kit’s expression was patently disbelieving. “Really?” he drawled. “And you have proof of this?”

Aunt Uriana glowered. “Of course. It went missing the night she left.”

Quietly, but with firmness, Susanna demanded, “What jewelry, Aunt?”

Aunt Uriana paused. “A diamond necklace.”

“I don’t recall ever seeing you wear a diamond necklace.” Susanna tilted her head and allowed her disbelief to show.

Her aunt’s eyes shifted back and forth as if she were thinking up a new lie. “Well, of course you wouldn’t since you were never present during formal dinner parties.” She glanced at Kit and Daubrey. “She wasn’t ‘out,’ you see.”

“Nineteen and not yet out?” Esther mused. “That is beyond the pale.”

Lord Daubrey nodded. “Deuced odd.”

Aunt Uriana shifted.

Uncle finally spoke. “I don’t remember this diamond necklace.”

Aunt Uriana made an impatient sound. “You never notice things like that.”

Putting steel in her voice, Susanna said, “I’ve never seen a necklace like that on you or anywhere in the house, and I certainly didn’t steal it—nor anything else.”

“It is your word against hers.” Kit stood, his posture commanding. “Here is what you are going to do. You will drop the charges against Susanna, and you will leave without making any further contact with her, even indirectly. Otherwise, I will make it known that you starved and neglected her, and that you tried to force her to marry your nephew so you could access her dowry.”

Four pairs of gaping mouths met her eyes.

Percy recovered first. He stood and offered Susanna a condescending smile. “Cousin, I apologize for all of this difficulty and hope you know I have always held you in high regard.”

“Oh, have you?” Susanna asked sweetly. “I seem to regard your proposition was not what an honorable man normally makes to a lady whom he holds in high regard.”

Percy cleared his throat and glanced nervously around. “On the contrary, I was trying to save you from a worse fate. If I weren’t already married….”

A huff of disbelief came out of Susanna’s mouth. “A worse fate than being ruined? I cannot think of it.”

“Nor can I.” Esther eyed them as if they were all insects she’d decided to squash.

Aunt Uriana fixed a cold stare on her son. “You idiot. She cannot be your mistress—no one gets her dowry if she doesn’t marry.”

Percy held out a hand. “I didn’t know she had a dowry or that you had hoped to gain access to it.”

Susanna cut in. “Goodbye, Cousin.” She turned to her uncle. “Uncle.” She drew a breath, sifting through all she wanted to say. She finally ended with, “Thank you for allowing me to continue to play the harp. Without my abilities as a harpist, I would never have come to London and met Lord Christopher. Aunt Uriana ….” She searched for something gracious to say but came up with nothing. “I trust our paths shall never again cross. Algernon, if you treat parishioners the same way you treat kittens and puppies, I recommend you reconsider the church. I believe it would suit you ill.”