Daring declarations, p.2
Daring Declarations, page 2
Ellie leaned ever closer, flapped that fancy fan of hers ever faster. “The one who put the smile on your face,” she said so softly he had to piece together the sentence. “The gouges…your neck.”
A grin he couldn’t stop gave her all the answer she needed.
She beamed back. Then her expression turned sardonic. Wafts from her fan brushed past his forehead as she inquired lightly, “Any chance she also revels in pounding your face? It looks rather atrocious, brother dear.”
“Cream. More?”
“You need another jar of that latest batch? The one with the honeysuckle and cloves? Of course!” His sister’s delight knew no bounds.
He wondered what she’d say if she knew he’d given all of his to Thea.
“I’ll have it to you as soon as I gather some more and crush the blossoms. It’s growing in the conservatory at the estate but it’s too early for it to bloom outside— But you don’t care about that.” Her fan slowed to a crawl as she gave him a measuring glance. “I do believe this is the first time you’ve ever asked for more of a batch.”
He shrugged, that was all.
“Bad night?” Ellie deduced. “Your voice?”
“The worst,” he strained out.
“She’s very elegant.” Daniel nodded his agreement. “Refined too.” Daniel nodded again. “Are you sure she’s a lightskirt?”
He laughed outright. Then took a deep, cleansing breath and laughed again, just for the hell of it. Wonder of wonders, talking might seize him up like a fist clamped round his windpipe but laughter actually felt good.
His mirth drew Thea’s gaze. Though her fingers trembled uncertainly within his, she gave him a sweet, almost demure smile, rendering him very, very glad they’d stayed.
* * *
To Thea’s dismay, Lord Tremayne was called from their box a short time later, leaving her alone with the other woman, vastly curious what they’d just been whispering about.
Unsure where to look, after that too-brief, reassuring clasp of his hand to her shoulder, Thea flashed an uncertain glance past the empty chair between them. When she found the woman staring at her intently, Thea decided she found the stage below worthy of her complete fascination.
Pity nothing much was occurring on it.
Desperately, she looked into the orchestra pit. The musicians were pausing there as well, abandoning chairs and instruments in a bid to stretch their legs.
“Botheration! This will never do,” the woman exclaimed, sliding over to sit directly beside Thea. “I know it’s not done but I should like to meet you. I’m Elizabeth, Daniel’s sister.” She gave a light laugh. “Lady Wylde, if I’m to do it right, but I’ve never been one to stand on ceremony, so please do call me Elizabeth. Neither have I ever seen him so happy. My brother, that is. Thank you for that.”
His sister. So much more than simply friends, then.
Despite the invitation, Thea could not bring herself to regard Lord Tremayne’s relative so informally, but her genuine warmth loosened Thea’s tongue. “Happy? Pray, you must have your men confused.”
“As though I have so many!” Lady Elizabeth smiled sincerely. “You’re such a wit.”
Not hardly. “As to that, why thank me? I’ve done nothing—”
“Oh, but you have. Tell me, what has he shared about himself?”
“Ah…” Very little, she was shamed to realize. Casting about for a response that might satisfy, Thea blurted, “That he disdains poetry and likes orreries.”
Heave me to Hertfordshire, is that all I know?
Nay, for you know he’s kind and thoughtful and generous. Thea’s fingers twitched as though recalling the feel of the sumptuous winter gloves he’d given her. She also knew he was strong and protective and tender when he was with her, and when he touched her body, it sang more notes than any accomplished opera singer.
I know he makes me feel special.
“Fancy that.” Her companion’s voice trilled with glee. “He told you of his contraptions. Then you aren’t a cabbagehead like his last— Pardon me. I should not have said that.” Lady Elizabeth’s unfashionably tanned face pinkened. Her agitation gave rise to a furious fluttering of her fan. “I do spells, well gentle blessings I prefer to think of them, with herbs and such, did you know?” No answer was necessary because the fan kept twitching, the ebullient woman kept talking. “As to his preoccupation with orreries, has he mentioned that fellow who’s come to town to give some lecture or other? Daniel so looked forward to attending that. I know he regrets having to miss it.”
Feeling adrift at the rapid topic swings, Thea asked, “What fellow? If he’s to make a presentation on orreries, there’s a chance I know of him.”
“Truly? How grand!” Lady Elizabeth went on to explain about a “monstrous” orrery in Lord Tremayne’s study and how it wasn’t working properly. Upon learning the acclaimed clockwork expert was come to London, Daniel had made plans to hear him speak. “Only now he’s doing a favor for my husband and will miss the lecture. And he was so wishing to gain insight on correcting whatever’s wrong with it. Over the years, he’s collected a number of working models, but this particular one is special, for it belonged to our grandfather.”
Amid her flurry of fan and facts, Thea had pieced together enough to realize it must be Mr. Horatio Taft from Manchester, visiting and lecturing. “I do know him, a Mr. Taft, for he consulted with my late husband on a project or two. If you do not think it’s overstepping my place, I could attempt to locate him and see whether he will be in town a while and could perhaps meet with Lord Tremayne another time.”
Lady Elizabeth’s face took on a glow that turned her from pretty to stunning. “Overstepping, pah. The reality of meeting this fellow would give Daniel no end of delight.” She leaned in close and the fan finally stilled. “Tell me, though, has he told you anything more? About himself?”
Suddenly Thea felt as though she were walking a tightrope, wavering upon a fine line between passing and failing. What? What else was he supposed to have told her? “Nothing specific comes to mind,” she finally said.
Lady Elizabeth’s disappointment was palatable and Thea tumbled right off that rope. Crashed into inexplicable sadness.
Compelled to defend him, she offered, “In truth, he doesn’t talk that much. Not when we’re together, anyway. We seem to, ah, be busy doing-other-things,” she finished swiftly, feeling a hot flush flare over her forehead. “But we have been exchanging wonderfully charming letters.”
That confession brightened Lady Elizabeth’s countenance. “Letters?”
“Aye, sometimes several in a day.” Thea couldn’t stop the chuckle that emerged. “He’s quite entertaining, has a flair for funning me. I’ve never laughed so much.”
“Fun?” Lady Elizabeth mused on the word. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought of my older brother as such, not since we were children. He’s typically far too busy getting his face bashed in to indulge in something as banal as fun.”
Thea winced at the disgruntled tone. “On that, I can commiserate. I did notice his propensity for walking into fists. What’s a munsons muffler? Do you know?”
“I haven’t an inkling. Why?”
“’Tis simply something that was said the first night we met.” Thea waved it off. “I keep meaning to ask him and— What?” She lowered her voice guiltily. “Why are you looking at me so?”
“Because you—you…”
“I what?”
“You’re nothing at all like I expected. You’re so—” Lady Elizabeth pressed her lips together, as though contemplating whether or not to finish her thoughts. She did—astounding Thea with, “Ladylike! You’re good for him. I’ve never seen him smile so much—”
“Smile? He’s been dour since he arrived tonight.”
“I’m not only talking about tonight,” Lady Elizabeth answered evasively. “As to that, I’m sure he’s just worried about tomorrow. He’s giving a speech. That’s the favor to Wylde and speechifying is one talent my brother would rather not indulge in.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Thea said dryly, and the two shared a brief laugh.
Then this composed female of elevated station, one who Thea never in a thousand years would have imagined actually conversing with, astonished her yet again. “I’ve had a brilliant idea—you can surprise him. If you’re sincere about asking that orrery expert a favor, I’m sure nothing would mean more to my dear brother than to have the man drop by, assuming it works with his schedule, of course. Will you ask him?”
“Certainly. It would be an honor to please Lord Tremayne after all he’s done for me,” Thea assured, readily agreeing. “Only…well, to confess, I’ve no notion of his direction—if I’m able to contact him, where do I request Mr. Taft go?”
“That’s easily remedied.” Lady Elizabeth reached for her reticule with a bright smile. “I’ll give you Daniel’s address.”
The players had taken the stage during the last few seconds. Music from the orchestra sounded and a full-voiced singer loosed the first notes while Thea watched her newest acquaintance retrieve pencil and paper.
Feeling the need to subdue the other woman’s growing excitement, Thea cautioned, “Please realize that I’ve no notion of Mr. Taft’s itinerary or whether his habits have changed. I do know where he stayed during prior visits, however, and I’ll do my best to reach him tomorrow.”
“That’s perfect. All anyone can expect, really.” Scribbling away, Elizabeth said, almost to herself, “Aye, I like this idea. You’ll tell Daniel to stay at home and ask your Mr. Taft to call, while I—”
“Tell him to stay home? I think you overstate my influence on your brother.”
“Do I?” She paused and turned to Thea, a look of consternation shading her features before they cleared and she flashed a conspiratorial smile. “I’m sure even mistresses become, ah…indisposed at times. If that’s what he believes for a short duration and the end result is his happiness, where would be the harm?”
Where indeed?
The men chose that moment to return, their conversation continuing in hushed whispers before Lord Tremayne resumed his seat beside Thea (only after his sister relinquished it with a bright smile).
Lord Wylde, Thea couldn’t help but notice, chose to remain standing. During the first lull of the powerful singing, he leaned down. “We’ll be going now. Tremayne. Ahh, Mrs. Hurwell, was it?” He straightened and said in a more commanding tone, “Elizabeth?”
Lord Wylde held out his arm as Daniel croaked, “N-now?” evidently as surprised as she that the other couple would leave just as the performance got underway.
“Aye,” Wylde said resolutely, encouraging his wife to her feet when she seemed to hesitate. “We only came for the ballet anyway.”
* * *
Ballocks.
Daniel was hard-pressed not to laugh at Wylde’s pronouncement. They were here for the ballet? He knew that to be a clanker of the first-order.
They’d only come to indulge Ellie’s desire for opera but if Wylde wanted to leave him and Thea alone, who was he to argue?
Actually, to his utter amazement, when the two of them had quit the box during the interval, the only thing his friend said in regard to Daniel’s new mistress was that “she appears a fetching little thing” and he hoped they got on well together. That and a cryptic remark that meeting her might be beneficial for Elizabeth and their marriage—of all things.
Not a word on the inappropriateness of it all.
Daniel couldn’t decide if he was thankful on Thea’s behalf or offended on his sister’s. Shouldn’t Wylde take more umbrage over the perceived slight to Ellie’s reputation?
Shouldn’t you be more concerned over your committee commitments tomorrow?
Gads. He’d rather grow horns than think of all the last-minute counsel and wording suggestions Wylde had shoved down his silent throat out in the corridor.
Horns? Pah.
Much, much better to sit here with his sweet Thea, basking in her presence, than to worry about tomorrow.
After the door shut behind the other couple, Thea fiddled again with her purse, tucking something inside. After placing it on an empty chair, she glanced up at him and leaned a few inches closer. “Your sister. She’s a lovely woman.”
Daniel nodded.
“I… We… What you must think of me.” She floundered about, but her gaze never left his.
He reached over and captured her hand, took his time tugging off her dress gloves. Speaking to her elegant fingers, he willed his neck to relax. “Think you’re lovely…too.”
“But we were talking while you were gone.” She sounded as though the offense warranted beheading. “I know I shouldn’t have behaved so familiarly but—”
A slight squeeze of her fingers and her ramblings stilled. He met her gaze again. “She’s…persuasive.”
“Aye,” Thea breathed out on a sigh. “Very. It was awfully forward, I know, even being here with her. I hope you don’t think ill of me.”
As if he could. He brought her bare fingers to his lips. “Never.”
She blasted him with a smile so bright he jerked back.
God, how he needed that smile.
And not just for tonight, he was starting to realize. Tomorrow. Next week, next year. When he was fifty. A hundred.
He might have a driving need to bed her—and oh how he did—but it was that smile he was plain coming to need.
* * *
For the next several thousand heartbeats or so, Daniel gave himself over to the unexpected escape. In their private nook, listening to the dramatic levels of feeling being expressed in song, he discovered both bliss and solace.
With his eyes closed, and his senses attuned to the woman at his side, it was an easy thing to forget the strain gripping his neck. An easy thing to relax and simply be.
Without any conscious effort, he allowed the music to wash over him. The sheer pleasure his auditory senses reveled in, thanks to the deeply sung notes—never mind that they were nonsense as he’d never learned Italian—reached through his lugs and somehow touched his soul.
Despite the clash of instruments and the tragic tale being told so woefully, the sounds loosened the tension, softened the muscles, until he was sitting there, staring at the blackness behind his eyelids, seeing brightness everywhere around him, his body suspended somewhere between alert and drowsy, one of the most peaceful, calming things he’d ever experienced.
The mournful, moving voice approached another, more intense, crescendo, bringing the reluctant awareness that the performance approached its end. That realization, in itself, brought sorrow, gathered grief like a shroud into his being. So much anguish, so much euphoria.
To think, he’d missed countless performances such as this, such depths and pinnacles of emotion, all because he avoided people. Avoided possible confrontations, probable conversations.
He’d been doing his spirit a disservice.
As the final notes wound to a stirring, heart-wrenching close, Daniel blinked open heavy lids. As though pulled by a relentless magnet to seek her out, he turned to study Thea. Rapt, she stared at the stage. A single tear left a glistening trail down her exposed cheek. As he watched, she covered her lips with her hand and compressed damp lashes.
Overcome.
Though he felt the same, he couldn’t bear witnessing her reaction.
Startled to find he still held her hand, he released it in order to wrap his arm around her and bring her close to his side. She tilted her head until it rested against his shoulder. He felt the breath go out of her on a shudder.
Long minutes later, neither of them had moved a speck. The stage had emptied, the deafening applause finally drifting to nothing but indistinguishable shouts and murmurs as hundreds if not thousands of people clambered for the exits.
Daniel angled his head until it rested against the top of Thea’s. He inhaled deeply, drawing her essence deeper into the cracks of his soul. Cracks he hadn’t realized existed until unlocked by the phenomenal talent they’d just witnessed.
He thought she’d eventually pull away. Gain her feet, be keen to go. He knew he’d been deplorable company all evening.
But instead of making any move to join the noisy exodus, she only snuggled deeper into his side.
When had her arm curved around his waist? Her other hand come up to rest beneath his neckcloth? How long had her thumb rubbed a tender caress through his linen shirt, over his heart?
“I don’t mind if we wait here until the crowds dissipate.” Her quiet voice reached his ears. The gentle caress didn’t stop. “One time I overheard two ladies in the shop complaining that it took over an hour just to exit and that one of them was, horror of horrors…” Thea pitched her voice to a whispered nasally screech, “Groped most objectionably in the bargain!”
He laughed. A bone-deep, belly-shaking chuckle as he hauled Thea sideways onto his lap, cupped her cheeks in both hands, and wiped away the dried remnants of tears. Staring into her soft eyes, his laughter faded.
He should tell her, explain his mood.
The very atmosphere around them made him feel buoyant, as though the evening, and last few somber notes had lifted his spirit, lightened his load. Lessened the ever-present strain to the point where he felt like talking. Who knew when he might be so inclined again?
“There’s a t-task—” Damn. Take your time, Daniel. His grandfather’s voice, Everson’s too. There’s no reason to rush. “Task, an onerous one, I must see…to. Weighing on me and—”
And God, I need to see you smile.
Thea waited so patiently for him to mutter through. Stared at him so solemnly. Left off rubbing his chest to finger his newly shaved jaw with such a sense of discovery.
Had he really kept himself so closed off from her?
“In truth, I nn—” Need almost never tripped him up, never. Sod it—why now?
He had to tell her. All of it. “Explain!” burst out. “I like you, Thea, very much, and…because of that, nn—” Need to tell you why I’m such an ogre sometimes.
