Page 80 of A Symphony for the Earl

A Ghost from the Past Appears

“Fiona. Fiona Kathleen…open your eyes, Acushla…”

Her eyes fluttered open. She sat on the piano bench, supported by Richard.

“Why, my girl’s never fainted in her life—what in heaven’s name is going on here? Come and sit up, Fiona.”

“Perhaps, if your return had been a bit less dramatic,” Richard said, tight-lipped, “she would not be in shock.”

She looked up at her grim fiancé, then back at her father, still too stunned for words. “Show me your hands,” she whispered, and he presented them, knuckles up. They were roughened and dark in contrast to his elegant appearance. A heavy gold-and-sapphire ring gleamed from his right hand, and a gold band from the left. She recognized both. He was older and a trifle leaner, but her father stood there.

“How—what are you doing here? Why aren’t you dead?”

Gerald Rafferty chuckled. “Well, welcome to you too, sweeting. No hug for your lost athair, then?”

Fiona leaped up, throwing her arms around him, surrounded by the familiar scent of cloves and sandalwood.

“Ah, there she is…” Her father returned the hug fiercely. “Acushla, did you take me for dead? Did you not think I’d come home to you?” He looked over at Richard, his black brows snapping together. “Are you Richard Merrick?”

Richard stood. “We have quite an avid audience. Might we finish this conversation in private?”

“Are you her guardian, then? You were holding my daughter mighty close, just now—”

“Father, please—”

“I am Richard Anthony Creighton Merrick, the ninth Earl of Seldon, your daughter’s future husband. This is our betrothal ball that you have so theatrically interrupted.”

Her father disentangled himself. The animosity between the two men was palpable. “Oh, are you? And with whose permission may I ask?”

“I suggest we retire to my library,” Richard’s tone was icy, “and we shall both offer some explanations.”

“He is right, Athair. This is no place for us to talk. Please…”

Lady Amelia flanked her son with the rest of her family. The surrounding crowd looked on avidly as he addressed the guests. “Please, may we allow them some privacy? I urge you to continue with the festivities. This is quite a surprising turn of events, as you can see, but don’t let it affect your evening, I beg you.”

She motioned to the musicians, who began to play a lilting scotch reel. People slowly dispersed, some taking the dance floor, but others formed small groups, whispering in hushed tones.

“Is this true, Acushla?” her father demanded. “Are you engaged to Lord Seldon? O’Cleary said you’d only been in London a short time…how could it happen so quickly? If anyone has pressured you—”

“Oh no, Athair, you mustn’t think that. I-I—”

How could she explain? She glanced at Richard, who stood set and pale within the circle of his family. She wouldn’t put it past her father to accuse him of something horrible.

Octavia stepped forward, taking Fiona’s hand.

“I’m Octavia,” she curtsied. “Are you Fiona’s father?”

He nodded, looking confused.

“Were you really lost at sea? Maybe you washed up on a deserted island like Robinson Crusoe. Or did you become a pirate?” Octavia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “You look like a pirate, dark and very scary. Richard gave me a book about pirates who roamed the seven seas, looking for treasure. Did you find any treasure, Mr. Rafferty? Did you?”

Her father stared for a moment, then burst out laughing. Fiona released a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath.

“Well, aren’t you the cheeky lass? And a smart one, too, I’ll wager. By the grave of Finn MacCool, I do have a story to tell you, young miss…and ’tis beyond your wildest imaginings. Shall we go with the earl to his private rooms? Fiona Kathleen?”

Denys had joined them. “Richard. Mr. Rafferty. The place is buzzing with gossip. In a few hours, the ball will end. Can we not just continue as before? I’m sure you can discuss things more thoroughly in the morning.”

“And you are?” Her father’s brows snapped together.