Brilliance resisted putting her hand up to her severe bun, knowing her hostess had recalled the pretty curls that had cascaded around it earlier. Sighing, she couldn’t meet Vincent’seyes in case her cheeks turned scarlet. Instead, she walked stiffly with the others into the dining room.
Dinner was exceptional, and Lady Twitchard had to compliment her cousin on hissuperiorcook. All in all, when Brilliance and her hosts made their way home, she had to consider it one of the best days of her life, the bonnet incident notwithstanding.
And in the morning, she wrapped up Vincent’s handwritten music she’dborrowedand sent it to the village for the afternoon post to London.
Although she knew he didn’t like to write out his music, seeing that he had done exactly that had sparked an idea. If Vincent had any doubt of his superb talent, it would dissipate once he could see his own music professionally printed, just like Mr. Castern’s.
Brilliance was convinced he would be gratified.
Chapter Eighteen
Brilliance spent the next day wool-gathering at Bexley Hall. She even wrote to Martine in Surrey, telling her little of the personal details while conveying her great affection for Vincent. The following day, he came to his cousin’s home for dinner, and they were allowed time alone in the conservatory.
Again, he played a private concert for her, and she considered him the most gifted pianist who had ever lived. And obviously, he must also be the best kisser, for she could not imagine better.
The day after, she received a letter from her mother, saying they’d heard only good things about Lord Hewitt’s reputation as a Parliamentarian. Naturally, they said nothing about his musical abilities since they could have no idea about that aspect of his life.How could they when he hid it?More than anything, she wanted the world to know of his immense talent.
Lord and Lady Diamond expressed their relief at leaving the city in two days. Since Brilliance could not travel all the way to Derby by herself, her mother had accepted Colonel and Lady Twitchard’s gracious offer to bring her, partly in their coach and partly by train.
Brilliance set down the thick sheet of stationery covered in her mother’s exuberant handwriting onto the sofa beside her. Her emotions were mixed. She loved her family’s country estateand always welcomed the chance to stay there. Moreover, she looked forward to seeing her parents. But she would be sad at the conclusion of this exciting interlude.
On the other hand, while this time had been idyllic for her, she knew it had been prompted by misery at home, and she fervently hoped the cholera would disappear as quickly as it had arrived.
When she left Bexley, she would have to wait until she and Vincent were both in the city again to see him, unless he made the trek north to Derby. Brilliance swallowed her sadness, reminding herself she was a grown woman. She had waited a lifetime to find him, and she could easily wait another month or two before they could resume their courtship.
If only the sheet music would return from London in time for her to give it to him, she would be content to leave. When a package arrived the following day from Boosey & Co. on Old Bond Street, she asked Lady Twitchard’s permission to make one last visit to see Vincent.
Hurrying Belinda into the carriage, she descended before anyone could even open the door to Mirabel Manor. As Mr. Jordan opened the grand front door, Vincent came out of the conservatory, still tugging on his coat.
“I have been composing!” he announced.
“Aren’t you always composing?” she asked when he took her arm and led her back into the room, closing the door behind them.
So improper, but she was now too familiar with his staff to bother about first or fourth impressions. She hadn’t even had to tell Belinda to go to the kitchen. Her maid had disappeared down the passageway as soon as they’d entered the house.
“I amnotalways composing. I am always playing and going over my old music. But when I awoke at two o’clock thismorning, I heard the notes of a new piece. Clear as a flawlessly cast bell.”
Brilliance winced. “And now I have interrupted you! I ought to have sent word of my intent, and you could have told me to stay away.”
“I would never have said that.” Vincent still had hold of her arm, and he brought her to the infamous divan, which she could hardly look at without blushing — despite how well they had behaved since then.
“After all,” he added as she seated herself and he relinquished his hold, “I’m only writing music again because of you.”
“Because ofme?” Brilliance looked up at him. “Am I your muse?”
“Indeed, you are,” he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “The sonata I’m writing was inspired entirely by you. I am trying to capture your essence in music.”
Her essence?A little shiver ran up and down her spine. “May I hear it?”
Vincent looked as if he were fit to burst. He was even hopping excitedly from one foot to the other. “It is not finished, you understand, barely even started, but I was hoping you would ask.” His face was alight with eagerness.
Brilliance thought him greatly changed in a fortnight. “You appear so very different from when first I laid eyes upon you.”
“Do I? How so?” He sat upon the piano bench.
“Younger maybe?” she said. “No, that’s not it, or at least, not only that. You look at ease. And, dare I say, happy?”
“I am happy. You make me so.”
