The corner of Verity’s lips twitched, nothing more.
Remmy patted Verity’s shoulder. “I keep telling her that.”
“It’s difficult to perform for an audience,” Tilbury said.
Remmy nodded, in complete agreement.
And Verity—she’d recovered completely.
Tilbury turned to Tessa. “You have been busy with other guests for the last few days, I was hoping you might walk with me tomorrow morning.”
She glanced at Remmy, who was entirely focused onturning pages of the music for Verity, but his back was stiff and his toe tapped.
Her father nodded, pride shining in his eyes.
And her mother beamed her approval. “She’d love to. In fact, we’ll return in the morning, indulge in a family excursion.”
That sounded particularly excruciating. But Tessa smiled. What else could she do with such an audience? “Yes. Lovely.”
She could not be sure, but Lady Chattaway might have groaned, and when Tessa glanced at her, it was in time enough to see a frowning Lady Crossvale smack her friend’s arm.
“Excellent,” Tilbury said.
“Yes, excellent,” her mother repeated. “We’ll see the both of you tomorrow. Verity! Come now. We’re off.” She stopped before the countess. “Thank you for your hospitality. And for nurturing a more sensible Tessa King to return to us.”
They left, Verity wiggling her fingers at Aria before she disappeared behind her parents.
“They’re lovely,” Tilbury said quietly. “I wish I could have had a word or two with your sister.”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps tomorrow.”
“Yes, tomorrow.” Tessa rubbed her forehead. “I think I have a headache coming on. Would you mind if I slipped away to rest before dinner?”
“Not at all.” He sketched a bow, and Tessa made her way upstairs, closed herself into the lovely room that did not belong to her and tried to shake away the feeling that the walls were closing in on her. She’d discovered the boundaries of her painting.
What do you want?
She felt it, deep down, yet so close—what she wanted most. She ached for it.
She wanted to be free.
Free as a naked body bobbing in the water.
Free as a cry flung to the sky.
Free as a kiss in the shadows, scented with the summer heat.
And she wanted something else, too, more than that. But it was like being too close to a detail on a painting. She had no idea what it was.
Chapter Fifteen
It hurt like hell to wait till the house started to quiet to climb the stairs to Tessa’s room. Every tick of the hand round the clock felt like a dagger right to Remmy’s jugular. He’d tried to follow her up after that meeting with her parents, but Kit had caught his wrist, shook his head, and—damn—Kit was usually right about these things.
He had always been smarter, wiser, the heir who’d inherited the brains as well as everything else. And Remmy, with too many emotions clattering through him, grasped for the lifeline of good advice.
He’d waited. Because Kit knew best and because he needed to build up the courage for what he knew he must say when he saw Tessa again.
