David frowned, his heart sinking at the prospect. Courtship and marriage hadn’t been foremost on his thoughts before last night, but he couldn’t deny the appeal of it now that the possibility landed in his lap, and the thought of having to exercise patience was like sitting on the church pews every Sunday—uncomfortable but necessary.
“I suppose there is nothing to be done about that,” he mumbled.
“You’ll be busy enough sorting through the other ladies,” said Benjamin in a dry tone that sounded so very much like Miss Leigh that David couldn’t help but smile, despite the daunting task before him. “The Hyatts’ picnic is the best setting—”
“Enough of that nonsense,” said Mrs. Leigh, waving her hands at the gentlemen to break up that conversation and draw their attention back to her. “What about Miss Heber? How do you know what she was up to last night?”
Holding his hands up once more, Benjamin shook his head. “I have no interest in the young lady.”
Mrs. Leigh narrowed her eyes. “No, but she is good friends with Miss Rothschild—”
“Not this again, Mother,” said Benjamin, straightening. “Miss Rothschild is a fine young lady and from a good family.”
“But hardly worth noting,” she replied with a scowl. “You can do so much better. If you insist on looking beneath you, Miss Heber is a better choice.”
Benjamin sent David a pleading look, though there was nothing David could do to save his friend from that quagmire. Mrs. Leigh was a force unto herself, and none of them could rein her in. He’d seen the eldest daughter have some luck with it, but as Mrs. Tate had said, Mrs. Prudence Humphreys was settled in her own home and too indisposed to manage her mother at present.
Rising to his feet, David thanked Mrs. Tate for her assistance. When Benjamin moved to follow, Mrs. Leigh grasped her son’s arm and dragged him back to his seat. David winced in sympathy but fled while he still could.
Chapter 10
Once out of sight, David listened to the house, certain of what he would hear. The murmur of the conversation was behind him, but the muted notes of a piano echoed in the distance, and climbing the stairs, he followed the sound to the drawing room. David eased the door open and found Miss Leigh seated at the piano. Her fingers flew across the keys, her head canted to the side and her eyes closed as she listened to the song streaming from the instrument.
David was no musician and couldn’t begin to guess at the composer, but the tune rang in the air, running up and down with such speed that he wondered how her fingers didn’t trip over themselves. He was well aware of the unkind opinions of Greater Edgerton, but he didn’t understand what they found lacking. Her music sounded brilliant to his ear, and it was impressive to watch her lose herself in it.
Whatever her skill, it was clear Miss Leigh loved that piano. Despite the frustrations that had driven her from the parlor, the lady sat there with a level of peace David didn’t often see resting upon her. But was it any wonder that tranquility was in short supply in Miss Leigh’s world when her family and society as a whole judged her vexing?
And not for the first time, David found himself wondering why she garnered such ire.
*
Having the drawing room to herself was a double-edged sword. Katherine appreciated the solitude and freedom to do as she wished (as the room was often ignored during the daytime); however, it pricked her pride every time she shut herself away in this forlorn corner of the house, for it reminded her of the day Mama had made the change.
The lady hadn’t bothered to soften the truth or tip-toed towards an explanation. The family couldn’t stand to hear Katherine play, so it was better to exile the piano from the heart of the house. And every time Katherine crossed the drawing room threshold, she was reminded of those words—and that sentiment was made all the more bitter and sharp because of her current disappointment.
Mr. Archer hadn’t known it was her.
Katherine’s heart twisted in her chest, though she was able to keep a tighter rein on the resulting pangs and focus the sentiment into her fingers. She pounded on the keys, letting the pressure build through her and come out in the notes.
No tears. No more, at any rate. Those would be reserved for the dark of night whilst tucked away in her bed. There would be no stopping them then, but in the here and now, she refused to give them control. In the waking realm, she was mistress—not them.
The song came to an end, and applause forestalled Katherine from selecting another. There was no need to turn and look at the intruder. There was only one person it could be. Closing her eyes, she took a fortifying breath.
“Brava, Miss Leigh,” said Mr. Archer. “That was quite impressive.”
Katherine scoffed, her eyelids lowering as she stared at the black notes scattered across the page. “You will forgive me if I do not believe you, sir.”
“Am I not a reliable source?”
“When you are my only supporter? I fear that makes your opinion suspect,” Katherine didn’t bother to soften the sardonic tone.
Footsteps sounded against the floor, but she studied the music, shifting through her sheets.
“I will admit I prefer the more modern sound to these old pieces, Miss Leigh, but I am still in awe of your skill,” he replied.
“I play these ‘old pieces’ because I haven’t the skill to do the modern composers justice, Mr. Archer. Trust me when I say there is little to admire in my playing. I do so because I adore it—not because of my skill.”
Mr. Archer moved to stand beside the piano, but Katherine couldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t.
