Hermione came with her, but at the door said, “Faringay and I spent time once—stolen, illicit time in a nighttime room—talking. In the end we kissed, and other things—though not what you’re thinking! But that time of talking was a precious jewel. We do it often now, of course, but courting couples should do it.”
“I should sneak into his bedroom?” Ariana asked, amused. “We don’t even live under the same roof anymore.”
“Neither did we,” Hermione said, joining her in the corridor and closing the door. “I think I’ll remain up here, if you’ll let Faringay know. Do you want the candle to go down?”
“I can manage. Thank you for this. Perhaps tomorrow you can come to our house for a while.”
“Certainly, and don’t give up hope. Faringay changed for me, and I for him. That, too, is the way of love.”
Ariana went downstairs with the aid of light at the bottom, and reentered the drawing room to the sound of a discordant twanging instrument. Kynaston was playing again, but on something ancient and odd. He was grimacing, in an amused way. “I have no idea how it’s supposed to sound.”
Peake said, “Much like that, my lord.”
“Then heaven help us.”
The company chuckled. The lighthearted atmosphere was like entering a faery glade.
The day had been so dire, and Ariana had come here fearfully. Upstairs, Cleo had reminded her of Kynaston’s grief and her tragic love for him. It was almost an affront to find him here, lightheartedly playing with music.
Then others joined in. A display of unusual instruments lay on a table and another man picked up a wooden instrument that resembled a recorder. He tried a tune on it and then settled into a version of “Bobby Shafto.” A lady hurried to choose a small drum and beat the time.
Entering a faery glade was said to be dangerous, but Ariana went to the front of the room and picked up some small bells to tinkle them in time with the others. Kynaston glanced up at her, eyes bright with amusement as if welcoming her to magical insanity.
The world tilted.
She’d said she loved him, but this was of a different order. Instinctively she grinned back in a way that she hoped implied fun in the moment and nothing more.She even shared a smiling glance with the gentleman playing the wind instrument. But her mind, heart, and soul were with Kynaston.
Forever.
She’d loved him fiercely, but out of pity, with a desire to mend and remake. Here was a man she could love as he was—the man she’d idolized in her callow youth, alive here, now, today.
All magic must fade. In time he ceased playing, and laughingly turned away demands that he continue. He replaced the instrument on the table, saying something about it needing a lifetime of practice. The woodwind man began a new tune and others picked up instruments to join in. Ariana gave one lady her bells and went to Kynaston.
“All seems well,” he said, still softened by the ghost of merriment. “Most of the guests have left, convinced of your innocence. Our job is done.”
And that’s the end of us,she heard. She could sense even now that he did care for her, and she could imagine how hard that would make continued meetings. She’d endure them if she was allowed, but she’d spare him the pain.
As if to hammer home the point, he added, “I’m told repeatedly that my estates need my care. I’ll be returning there tomorrow and taking Phyllis with me.”
Ariana tried to match him, step for step. “I suspect we’ll return to Boxstall.”
“You’ll cease your husband hunt?”
“For now.”
“You’ll find a suitable partner in time,” he said, and it fell like a blow.
She managed a smile. “I’m sure I will. But then, Norris may wed.”
They both knew it could only be to Phyllis, and Kynaston couldn’t like that.
“We should thank Peake,” Ariana said.
They crossed the room to the old gentleman, who beamed at them. “Not at all, not at all! I regret your distress, Lady Ariana, but it’s given me the opportunity to make quite a splash, especially with pieces in the papers tomorrow listing all the grandees who passed through. It was never my desire to be anobscureeccentric.”
She chuckled. “You’ll certainly not be that now, sir.” She needed to speak with him about Cleo, for something must be arranged, but not now.
Not with Kynaston at her side, perhaps for the last time. What if she somehow tempted him up to that unused bedroom and faced him with the mummy? That could only lead to sorrow and discord. But it was a bedroom....
