As if he could compose music with all the concern for her filling his mind.But she was right.At a minimum, he could review what they’d created.“Until tomorrow then.”
“Until then, Don Ottavio.Or is it Captain Alaric?”Her full, dazzling smile disappeared behind the closed door.
He didn’t like leaving her, but he had no choice.Not if he wanted to maintain her trust in him.Nora’s assumption that his concern stemmed from having seen something suspicious on the street unsettled him further.Speaking of her kidnapper would naturally bring old fears to the surface, but Ezekiel’s suspicion about the true identities of Adler and Mrs.Reed lent credence to the concern.If he couldn’t shield her from her father, he could at least figure out wherethe pair were located.The Soldene Opera Company had stayed at the Gibson House while in town.He’d check there first.Too bad he couldn’t do anything even if they were there.He didn’t have enough information or proof to go to the police, and he couldn’t exactly ask the duo to confirm his suspicions directly.Maybe he could ask Detective Hall or the Guardians to keep an eye on the pair’s whereabouts while he confronted Graham with his newfound knowledge.
As it turned out, there was no need to contact Nora’s friends.Mrs.Reed had checked out of the hotel that morning without leaving a forwarding address.The guest book indicated Adler had left with the rest of the Soldene Opera Company, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t stayed with Mrs.Reed afterward.The snide desk clerk declared it a busy hotel and not his business who visited the woman so long as she paid for the room.When Ezekiel stopped at Graham’s house, Mrs.Linville informed him that Graham told her not to expect him home until after supper.
With no other recourse, Ezekiel returned almost late to the opera house and sent a callboy to the telegram office.Hopefully Miss Soldene would promptly reply with affirmation that Adler had continued on to Chicago with the Soldene Opera Company.Then, all Ezekiel would have to worry about was keeping Mrs.Reed from Nora.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ACRASH CAME FROM THEparlor, and Father shot to his feet from the supper table.Had he his gun on him, no doubt he would have pulled it.“Did you reset your trap after we came in?”
Nora couldn’t blame him for his twitchiness.He’d always been quick to fear the worst, and now he’d found his daughter at a piano with a strange man.Such blatant disregard for the rules must mean danger would knock on their door any second.It was probably best if Nora kept to herself the sensations of being watched, her multiple Winston sightings, and the nightmare attack.They would only provide Father more support for the eventual argument against her involvement with Ezekiel.Or they’d encourage him to whisk them away to a new life in a new town again.
She poured a mug of coffee for herself and for Father.“It sounds like Tristan knocked over the begonia again.He’s decided he likes the table in front of the window best and doesn’t like sharing space with the plant.”
Father eased back into his chair.“How did we end up with that cat?You don’t even like pets.”
Technically she’d never had a pet to like or dislike.Her only experience had been with Flossie’s dog until Tristan, and she was most definitely not a dog person.
“The cat is Ez—Mr.Beaumont’s, and you ran him off so quickly he forgot Tristan.”
“Or left him behind so we have no choice but to return that devil’s spawn.”
Nora chuckled.Beast.Demon-cat.Devil’s spawn.Tristan certainly was not in the habit of making good impressions.As far as Ezekiel went, his return to ensure her safety and then request she keep Tristan for protection only proved the lack of a premeditated scheme.Poor Ezekiel.He’d truly been worried.She’d grown up familiar with Father’s quick temper that flared when anything threatened his perception of her safety.Experience had taught her to let it burn out, then attempt a reasonable conversation.
“You did breathe fire at him.I thought he handled the situation fairly well, considering I hadn’t warned him what a dragon you can be when afraid for me.”
“I am not a dragon.I am a father who almost lost his daughter once and does not ever want to endure that again.”
Nora laid her hand atop his.“I know, and you’ve done a marvelous job of keeping me safe all these years, but sometimes you are overbearing.”She returned the coffeepot to the stove.“I’m twenty-three, and you’ve trained me well.Don’t you trust me to judge and test a man’s character before allowing him even to speak of courtship?”
A low growl rumbled in his throat before he took a drink.
“You and Tristan sound just alike with all that grumbling and growling.If you start hissing, I’ll have to set you to work catching mice.”
Even as he glared at her, she could see his temper cooling.
“Who is he, how did you meet, and how long have you known him?”
Nora sat and wrapped her hands around the mug to give them something to do other than reveal her nervousness.“His name is Ezekiel Beaumont, and I met him at Longview four months ago while visiting Mum.”Granted, she’d only allowed his friendship for the last week, but it looked better for her and Ezekiel if she included the months of her avoiding his acquaintance.
“Longview?You met the man at theasylum?”
“He’s not a patient.His mum is.She suffers from low spirits.”
“Nora, the man could inherit his mother’s problems.”
“Just as I can inherit mine.”She dropped her gaze to the black liquid.He didn’t need to see that the madness was already starting—that no matter how he tried, he was losing his daughter like he’d lost his wife.“He’s a good man with the unique ability to understand the hurts and loneliness of having a parent in Longview.With him, I don’t have to pretend she doesn’t exist.”
“The men I’ve chosen have been good men too.You just haven’t given them a chance.”
She met his eyes.“You only choose your colleagues, who have no love of music, abhor the opera, and look down their noses at those who even dare to make their livelihood from either.If they knew the truth about us, it would be us they disliked.I know you are trying to keep me safe, but I cannot force myself to be someone I’m not.My soul needs to sing.Music is as much a part of me as it is Mum.I can’t live my entire life in this forced silence.Marriage is forever, and I don’t want to be in a prison of hiding who I am, who I love, and what I love.”
“Is that what you think?That I’m forcing you into a prison?”
“No, but if you keep a songbird hidden in a covered cage forever, eventually their music dies ...and so do they.”
