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An Uncommon Earl

Page 7

by Sian Ann Bessey

“Then I believe it is past time to call for another hackney.”

“Of course.” Mr. Hounslow stepped away a few paces. “A fresh carriage for the earl. Right away.”

“Many thanks, Doctor.” Alexander spoke quietly.

“Some willow bark tea should give you some relief from the pain and enable you to sleep,” Dr. Thorndike said as a hackney carriage materialized out of the darkness. Alexander nodded, but he feared it would take considerably more than some willow bark tea to clear his mind enough to rest.

Chapter 3

Jane had never seen a music room quite like the one at Claremont House. The wooden floor was polished to a shine, and several brightly colored Persian rugs lay scattered throughout. Gold velvet draperies hung at the windows, matching the gilded frames around each of the many portraits on the walls. Ornate chairs had been set in five short rows before a beautiful pianoforte, and every surface in the room held an elaborate decorative piece—from vast vases full of freshly cut flowers to large busts of famous musicians.

Gold candelabras sparkled in every corner, the candles flickering wildly as Lady Bloxley’s guests applauded the most recent performer. Lady Emma curtsied prettily, then raised her head and scanned the room. A small pout played across her perfectly shaped lips, but she masked it with her fan the moment their hostess, Lady Bloxley, took the floor.

“Thank you, my dear. That was truly marvelous. And now, to finish off our evening, I have asked Miss Arabella Pinnock to favor us with a couple of her favorite pieces.”

A hum of approval moved through the small gathering. From her seat on the back row, Jane watched the tall, redheaded young lady step up to the front to take her place beside the pianoforte. Lady Emma offered her an overly sweet smile before resuming her position beside her parents.

At Jane’s left, Lady Millward shifted slightly. Lady Bloxley had invited their family to sit closer to the front. Jane, however, preferred not to be the center of attention, and it was far easier for her to navigate her way with her cane if she had only to slip into a seat at the rear. Lady Millward had insisted that she stay with Jane, but so as not to offend their hostess, Phoebe and her parents had taken their designated places on the second row.

“Now you will understand why I consider our seats preferable to the ones nearer the performers,” Aunt Millward whispered. “Brace yourself, my dear.”

All evening, each musical number had outdone the last. With newly piqued interest, Jane watched Miss Pinnock clear her throat delicately, draw back her shoulders, and sing the most high-pitched note Jane had ever heard. The candelabra on the mantelpiece shook, and every person in the room seemed momentarily frozen, waiting for what would come next.

Six intricate and ear-piercing arpeggios later, Jane’s shoulders ached from holding herself taut. But Miss Pinnock had barely begun. With her eyes closed, the young lady reached for even more unreachable notes, garnering audible gasps of wonder from her audience as she pushed the musical boundaries higher.

Jane leaned toward Aunt Millward but kept her eyes to the front. “Surely she cannot continue for long without straining her voice.” When she received no response, Jane glanced her direction. The older lady was watching Miss Pinnock with a vague smile on her face and a small wad of cotton protruding from her ear.

Biting her lip to prevent laughter from surfacing, Jane made a quick mental list of the items in her reticule and came to the disappointing conclusion that she did not have anything that could be fashioned into earplugs. Vowing that she would be better prepared next time, she could do little more than hope her ringing ears would somehow recover.

Given the deafening circumstances, it was forgivable that she did not hear the late arrival enter the music room. Only when she felt a slight movement at her right did she realize that someone had taken the empty seat beside her. A surreptitious glance out of the corner of her eye told her that the newcomer was a gentleman—tall, sandy haired, and finely dressed.

Wondering who he was and why he had arrived so long after the performances had begun kept Jane’s imagination engaged throughout the last of Miss Pinnock’s songs. Perhaps he was Miss Pinnock’s suitor and had bribed the butler to allow him in to hear her sing. But his current, pained expressed was not what she would expect of an enamored beau. Could it be that he was actually Lady Emma’s suitor and his look was one of displeasure at having missed her performance? That would explain the lady’s petulant look when she’d finished singing.

Jane acknowledged that she should have paid more attention to who was expected this evening. Phoebe could have undoubtedly told her exactly who was seated beside her. But whereas Phoebe thrived in social settings, Jane simply endured them. It had been five years since the accident that had left her crippled, so the pitying looks and whispers directed her way were easier to ignore now than they had been at first. Attending a musical gathering such as this, where one was expected to sit quietly, was infinitely easier than sitting with the matrons at a ball, watching the other ladies her age dance. But she had long since realized the energy it took to stay ahead in Society was simply not worth the effort—especially when her situation made it such a futile endeavor.

All around, people began to clap, and Jane realized that her musings had distracted her completely from the concert at hand. Joining in with her own polite applause, she watched as Miss Pinnock curtsied, gathered her music, and offered the gentleman seated beside Jane a winning smile. The gentleman released a troubled sigh. At the front, Lady Bloxley stood, looked their way, and then moved remarkably quickly for a lady of her advancing years across the room toward them. The gentleman beside Jane rose to meet her.

“You are here at last.” There was censure in Lady Bloxley’s voice. “Lady Emma was most disappointed that you weren’t in attendance to hear her sing, Alexander.”

“Forgive me, Mother. I came as soon as I could.”

Mother. The gentleman was Lord Bloxley! Jane had known her family had received this invitation from Lady Bloxley because they were soon to be her neighbors in Berkshire, but as the earl had not been present when they’d arrived, she’d assumed he was away from London. No wonder this evening’s singers had been so anxious to catch this gentleman’s attention; he was considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors in London.

Jane kept her eyes on the fan on her knee and hoped the Bloxleys would move away to greet their guests and allow her to come to her feet unobserved.

“Your slight was noted, Alexander. The lady deserves an apology.”

“It was no slight, Mother.” There was a hint of steel in Lord Bloxley’s low voice. “There was an accident.”

“What manner of accident?”

“A serious one,” he said tersely. “Nevertheless, I shall greet your guests and make my apologies. If you will excuse me, I shall begin immediately.” He moved a few steps, but to Jane’s surprise, he halted again behind her aunt’s chair. “Lady Millward. It is a pleasure to see you here.”

Aunt Millward did not respond. Jane looked at her, her heart sinking as she saw the telltale wad of cotton still firmly wedged in the older lady’s ear.

“Aunt Millward,” she whispered, tapping her arm as discretely as possible.

Her aunt turned and smiled sweetly. “Yes, dear?”