Haven turned the full power of his glare on her, but she wasn’t bothered, feeling the slight squeeze of Hampton’s hand on her own, bolstering her courage to face off against the earl.
“Have a care whom you associate with,” he said to her pointedly before turning and storming off.
Lady Haven looked sad, but stepped forward and kissed her brother’s cheek.
“Colleen,” he said, placing a hand on her arm before she too turned away.
They stood there, still connected by their entwined hands, watching the Havens retreat. Hampton looked nervous as they departed.
“We’re in this together, right?” he asked, seemingly worried that she would abandon their plan once faced with the reality of his family and situation.
“Together,” Priscilla affirmed.
CHAPTER 12
West tugged at his cravat, which he still could not get to fold correctly, and grunted in exasperation.
“Allow me, my lord,” Roberts said stepping up to him.
Dropping his hands out of the way, West stood still as Roberts deftly maneuvered the material into crisp pleats and folds. He felt bad for letting his sour attitude poison the air around him, seeping out and causing ill effects to innocent bystanders.
It had been nearly a week since Haven confronted him, and Priscilla stood by his side without question. West was still irritated with his brother-in-law for confronting him in public, and even more so by his attitude. He should have anticipated that Haven would think the way his father had. After all, the man had been handpicked by his father to marry his sister.
Roberts made one final adjustment and stepped back, allowing West to see himself in the mirror. “Excellent as always—you’ve been an absolute godsend, Roberts.”
The valet smiled, remaining quietly off to the side. Roberts seemed surprised when West had shown up at his door only a few hours after their initial encounter at Stoddard’s employment agency last week, but had graciously invited him in. After only afew questions and observing the man’s exquisitely kept clothes, West knew he’d be excellent at his job, and had immediately felt at ease with him. He’d hired Roberts on the spot and would not let anyone persuade him into letting the man go—especially for bigoted reasons.
Almost ready to leave for the Symphony, West whipped his head from left to right, looking for his pocket watch. Roberts simply stretched out his hand, the watch laying in his palm, having anticipated his need. “You’ll want to look your best for Her Grace this evening, so I suggest the fine-cloth black coat.”
No, he was never letting Roberts go, and anyone who objected needed to make their peace with it.
With Roberts assistance he quickly shrugged on the tight jacket. West was eager to see Lady Priscilla again after the other night. Dancing with her and holding her in his arms had been a revelation, and he was looking forward to spending more time with her. He greatly appreciated her unwavering support when Haven had questioned his motives, leading him to believe they may be able to pull off their ruse after all.
The public hall was crowded as this was a rare, larger public performance that had been arranged by a group of professional musicians. Lady Priscilla held tightly to West’s arm as they maneuvered their way through the crowd to find seats near the front of the room.
Setting down at last, West noted the seats were placed rather closely together due to the number of people expected. While crammed, it was not entirely unwelcomed as it brought him in closer proximity to Lady Priscilla, who’s skirt grazed his leg. She was close enough he could feel heat emanating from her thoughno part of them actually touched. He leaned closer, speaking into her ear to be heard above the buzz of the crowd and ascertain if she needed anything, when he was struck by her fresh citrus and floral scent. It seemed she favored orange blossom, which he had smelled on her before, and he savored it before pulling back when she replied that she was well.
West wanted to ask her a hundred different questions. What had happened that so drastically changed the way she chose to interact with those around her? What was her favorite book? Did she prefer to be in town or in the country? And, most importantly, what had made her so set on discovering her own pleasure? But this environment was not conducive for such conversation, especially not when delving into such personal exploration.
It only took a few minutes for the crowd to be ushered into their seats, and soon the performers settled into their chairs at the front of the room. He watched as the musicians began tightening strings before settling instruments under their chins, beginning the process of tuning up their instruments. As the first few discordant notes sounded, each musician running through scales at their own pace, a hush settled over the crowd.
As the murmur of the assembly died down, West heard Lady Priscilla drag in a shaky breath next to him. Concerned, he looked in her direction to see if she was well. In the dimmed light, he could see the beginnings of tears glistening in her eyes. About to ask her what was wrong, he was distracted when she pulled in another stuttering breath as the strings began to find the same note and play as one. The action caused her chest to rise, pushing the swells of her breasts against the edge of her bodice. He was transfixed.
At the sound of a small sniffle, he guiltily wrenched his eyes back to her face, but she’d turned her head to the side so he could not see her expression.
“Are you well?” he whispered, genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine,” she said abruptly, answering before he had fully expressed his question, refusing to look his way. Another sniffle followed, but she turned her attention toward the musicians as the conductor lifted his wand.
Lady Priscilla quickly became entranced by the music and seemed to regain her composure. Not completely convinced all was well, West gently took her hand into his, making sure they were concealed by her skirts so tongues would not later wag. Though her focus remained on the stage, she gave his hand a small squeeze in return.
The performance was masterful, and the music transporting, as the musicians played expertly, but couldn’t hold West’s attention. His eyes kept being drawn back to Lady Priscilla and the expressions of rapture that moved across her face. He’d not been entirely convinced she enjoyed music, even after her protestation when he had questioned her interest in the concert. But seeing her react to the symphony he realized how wrong he had been.
Once the musicians broke for intermission, West helped Lady Priscilla stand as they joined the crowd in moving to a reception room for refreshments. After retrieving glasses of punch, they headed to the edge of the crowd to avoid being jostled and upending their drinks.
“You seem to be enjoying the music,” he said, eager to speak with her.
“It’s beautiful. I’ve always loved music and enjoy playing the pianoforte, but there is something special about strings.” She had a dreamy look on her face as she answered.
