Young men were simply expected to attend whatever schooling their father decided and fill the time between exams and books with drinking, gambling, and sowing those wickedly wild oats. As long as they toed the line when their majority arrived and settled down with a gently bred lady, the heirs of the gentry had few demands to fulfill.
Seeing his family’s struggling mill and the inevitable bankruptcy that was bound to come, David had stepped into the role of mill owner without a second thought. Father hadn’t been bothered by the shift, for it allowed him to make himself merry, and it had taught David many valuable lessons—including that work was an excellent distraction.
Yet with the ledgers and correspondence stacked around him, demanding his attention, David stared at the window. Faint shafts of light streamed through the glass, though the sky was heavy with clouds. There was just enough sun to keep frost from forming on the pane, but there was a definite nip in the air as winter returned in force again. However, it wasn’t the gardens outside the study window that held his attention.
With the door open, it was easy enough to hear noises from the rest of the house. Certainly a piano, if it were being played. But no bright melodies rang through the air.
Scowling at the ledgers, David shoved them away and leaned back into his armchair. He ought to have gone into the mill this morning, as there were issues he needed to discuss with Mr. Fenn, but he couldn’t force himself to leave his study. He rested his hands on his stomach and entwined his fingers whilst sinking lower into the armchair.
Since his initial invitation to use their piano, Miss Leigh had visited Stratsfield House daily, yet he’d seen neither hide nor hair of the lady sincethe incident. And David knew her well enough to know that nothing short of the direst of circumstances would keep her from playing the piano for three weeks.
He’d driven her from that passion of hers.
Passion. Such a strange word. Despite having a clear definition, there were so many facets to its meaning. Only a few weeks ago, David wouldn’t have put passion and Miss Leigh in the same sentence, but for all that the lady’s exterior spoke of one far too sensible for such a heady emotion, he’d always known she had a fire burning in her heart. Just not that sort of heat. Certainly not the sort to steal kisses in the moonlight.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor, and David straightened, his ears pricking up at the noise. Rising to his feet, he moved to the doorway and spied a maid hurrying along to her duties. With a sigh, he moved back to the desk and dropped into his chair.
He was quite willing to admit he’d handled their kiss poorly, but how would he make amends if she refused to speak to him? Groaning, David leaned forward and rubbed at his face. Was it possible for a man to make more of a muck of things than he had? If Miss Leigh was willing to give up her precious piano to avoid him, was there any hope for him?
Shaking free of that thought, David rose to his feet and paced a familiar route around the study. Melancholia was hardly helpful at present. He certainly deserved the sourness in his stomach and the heaviness in his heart, but if he had any hope of winning Miss Leigh’s forgiveness, he needed a plan.
Unfortunately, his mind supplied no viable solutions. Calling on the Leighs hadn’t worked, and letters were returned, unopened. Perhaps he could bribe the servants to sneak him in. Grimacing at that thought, David paused and rubbed at the back of his head. Flowers were a clear choice, but that was so pedestrian, and Miss Leigh was not the sort to be won over by a simple nosegay.
In truth, he knew patience was required, but no matter how much he tried to embrace that rational course of action, David couldn’t help but return to one sickening thought again and again—Miss Leigh despised him so much that even the lure of his piano wouldn’t bring her into the open.
Shaking his head, he resumed pacing. That was ridiculous. Music was a part of her very soul, and she could not deny herself indefinitely. A little time, and she would give in to that longing. He simply needed to decide what to say when the opportunity to speak to her arose.
But his thoughts were moving in circles, just like his feet. Dropping into his armchair again, David let out a heavy sigh.
“That most certainly paid my forfeits.”
Groaning anew, he scrubbed at his face. What sort of fool said such a thing at such a time?
Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and when they paused just out of sight in the doorway, David straightened, his ears straining to hear who it was. Which was ridiculous: it was likely the maid again. But he couldn’t seem to help himself.
“Hello?” he called, and Benjamin stepped through.
David held back a sigh but relaxed back into his chair. It wasn’t the distraction he’d hoped for, but it was something. Even if it wasn’t a pleasant one. Heat filled his cheeks, and he fiddled with the stacks of paper on his desk, straightening them.
“Come in, Benjamin.”
His friend did so, striding over to take a seat across from David and matching his relaxed pose, though Benjamin’s was far less comfortable with his jacket restricting his ability to properly slouch. But the two simply sat there in silence.
“Are you going to stride into my study after three weeks without a word and act as though nothing is wrong?” asked David.
“What is wrong?” asked Benjamin with a frown.
David narrowed his eyes, though there was little heat in the expression. “You dare ask that after that debacle at the Breadmores’?”
Holding up his hands, Benjamin shook his head. “It isn’t my fault you bungled the kiss with my sister.”
Gaping, David scoffed. “That isn’t what I was referring to. You forced our hand—”
“I mean no offense, David, but the only person I owed an apology to is my sister. She was the one who suffered the ridicule. You were given an opportunity, and you squandered it. If anything, you should apologize to me. And to my sister.”
David let out another sigh, puffing out his cheeks. “I have attempted to do so, but your sister refuses to see me. And I would point out that if you didn’t feel that you owed me an apology as well, you wouldn’t have avoided me for the past few weeks.”
Benjamin scoffed and shook his head. “How wrong you are, David Archer. I’ve hardly been in town for more than a few hours at a time. I haven’t had a moment to spare.”
