“Yes,” he agreed. Though she had seemed unwilling to discuss her emotional state earlier, he was still concerned about her and couldn’t keep himself from inquiring any longer. “Areyou sure you are well? You appeared unsettled before.” To his chagrin, she quickly looked down and began to blush.
“I’m afraid I’ve always had a strong emotional reaction to music,” she said after a moment. Looking back up at him, she twisted her lips before continuing, and he could tell she was searching for the words to explain. “Whenever I hear musicians begin tuning their instruments, it’s like my body anticipates the beauty of the music to come and a swell of emotion washes over me before I can contain it. That fleeting moment when all of the discordant sounds come together and meld into one has always overwhelmed me. It brings tears to my eyes without fail. I’m afraid it’s rather embarrassing.”
West thought it might be the most charming idiosyncrasy he had ever heard.
A moment later, everything clicked into place. “That’s why you leave the room when the music starts.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I don’t want everyone to see me become emotional—what would they think?”
“That you have a tender heart,” West replied gently. Her eyes softened at his response and came dangerously close to welling up again. “I saw you walk away more than once as the music commenced, and that’s why I wondered if you didn’t like it. It was either the music or dance you were not fond of. But once we danced, the way you responded to my lead led me to believe that was not the problem.”
She slightly colored but didn’t look away from him. “I can assure you that I enjoy both. It’s just a silly affectation.”
“But a very endearing one.” He was seized with the urge to kiss her—and might have forgotten himself and done so if the intermission bell hadn’t sounded. Instead, he simply tucked her hand back into the crook of his arm and led her back into the assembly room.
CHAPTER 13
As the concert concluded, Priscilla was overwhelmed by her emotions, both from the music and the nearness of Hampton all evening. She didn’t want the night to end. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself this much.
It had been a truly momentous day. Only yesterday, Priscilla’s solicitor informed her he had located and secured a small townhouse on her behalf. Not wanting to waste any time, this morning she had gathered a few essentials, instructed her ladies maid to pack up everything else, then headed straight over to inspect her new residence.
While her mother had ceased endlessly pestering her regarding securing a husband, she had begun to instead send her sly looks and smiles. Priscilla could tell that she was deliberately holding her tongue, which she did appreciate, but every time she mentioned a plan with Hampton her mother became practically giddy with glee. It was unsettling.
As Priscilla had first stepped into the space that was to be all her own, she felt a freedom she had never known before. The townhome came furnished, and though it was not exactly to her tase, it was also not egregious enough for her to postpone moving in immediately while changes were made. Staff wasstill being hired, but she planned to spend the evening there regardless, fully spreading her wings. She gave the direction to Hampton’s driver before allowing him to hand her up into the carriage.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” she said to the marquess after they settled into the carriage. “The music was exquisite.”
“It was, and I’m grateful you were still willing to be seen with me after my brother-in-law was so rude to you.” His brow furrowed as he spoke, and the corners of his mouth turned down slightly. Priscilla could tell he was genuinely upset by the attitude his family had displayed. She had to force her hand to stay in place, desperately wanting to reach out across the carriage and smooth the lines on his face that appeared with his anxiety.
“Hampton, what did he mean when he mentioned morally questionable business practices?” The question had been haunting her since that encounter.
He offered a feeble smile, then said, “Seeing as we’re going to be spending a great deal of time together this season, I think it would be appropriate for you to call me West. Hampton feels rather formal given the nature of our agreement, don’t you think?”
“Very well, West,” she said. The name felt awkward coming off her tongue for the first time, but she liked the familiarity of it. “Then you must drop the lady, and simply call me Priscilla.”
He smiled before heaving a large sigh. “I’m not sure how much you know about my family background, but my grandfather essentially purchased our title during the conflict with the American colonies. The money he used to do so was earned from investing in the transport of slaves across the Atlantic.”
Priscilla was startled by his revelation, but it should hardly be a shock. Her mother had alluded to ill-gotten gains when she’d first raised the marquess as a good prospect. And the Beaumonts certainly weren’t the only ones within the aristocracy to have gained prominence or wealth through exploiting others—profiting from commandeering both labor and land. She found the practice of slavery horrific, but would not judge West by the sins of his ancestors, given his own enlightened views on the subject.
“I recently divested our assets from the company, and Haven was not pleased with the negative impact it will have on our finances for the foreseeable future. But it’s worth it to separate us from such a moral stain upon our character,” he said vehemently.
“And the valet you just hired is a man of African descent?” Priscilla asked, knowing she should probably stop prying, but wanting to better understand the man she was now partnered with.
“Yes,” he said, absentmindedly reaching up to rub his eyebrow. “I think he saw it as a stunt, something I was doing for the sake of appearances. It didn’t even cross my mind it might be viewed as such. I was more disgruntled with the director of the employment agency for not suggesting Roberts as an option to fill the position. He believed a man of my station would not want to work so closely with a Black man.” West grunted in disgust. “I simply hired him because I could tell he was excellent at his job and I liked him.”
Priscilla’s heart swelled as she watched him explain his ideals without giving word to them explicitly. His actions spoke much more eloquently, and she responded to his sense of justice that supplanted the need to maintain appearances which drove so many in polite society.
As the carriage jolted along a rough patch of cobblestones, West turned his head to peer out the window. “This is not the direction to your parents’ house,” he said.
“No, I’ve recently taken up my own rooms, and I asked your driver to take me there.”
“But I picked you up from your family townhome,” he said, somewhat confused.
“I know. I’ve not yet fully settled into my new rooms, so I got ready there this evening. However, I’m rather looking forward to being on my own for the first time tonight.”
He looked at her across the small distance that separated them in the carriage and the temperature seemed to rise within the confines of the space. Her pulse quickened as she thought back to the intermission when she was sure he wanted to kiss her.
“Perhaps I don’t wish to be there by myself,” she said shakily, looking him straight in the eye. “Sometimes a new space can be frightening until you become used to the normal creaks and groans of a place.”
