Secrets and Sensibilities: A Regency Romance Mystery (The Lady Emily Capers Book 1) (10 page)

Thankful for something to discuss, Hannah started to explain
the girls’ lack of interest. Then a movement caught her eye. Daphne had swung
open the glass doors and was tugging at a book. What struck Hannah with horror
was that the bookcase was leaning farther forward with each tug. David must
have seen her look of fear, for he whirled, just as the oak mammoth began to
topple. Hannah’s body seemed to freeze as it veered toward her, but David
shoved her out of the way. Then it was her heart that froze, as he raced
forward to push Daphne to safety as well.

Priscilla screamed as the case came down. Glass shattered,
sending shards in all directions. Books thudded to the floor. The oak frame hit
the desk with a crash that sent a ripple through the wood at their feet. Hannah
stumbled, clutching the case next to her for support. Lady Emily crouched as if
ready for more to fall, and Priscilla collapsed into an armchair. Plaster from
the exposed wall rained down, filling the air with grit.

“David!” The cry burst unbidden from Hannah’s lips. Her next
breath filled her mouth with dust. She coughed, batting away the cloud to clear
her vision. “David! Are you all right?”

He rose from the far side of the case, powdered a ghostly
white by the plaster and rubbing his left elbow. “It’s all right. I’m fine.”

Hannah choked back a sob of relief as he made his way to her
side. She hugged him to her. Some part of her brain informed her that this was
not the proper reaction for a disinterested art teacher, but she refused to
listen. “Thank God,” she murmured against his dusty chest.

He stroked her hair. “I’m all right, Hannah. Don’t be
frightened.” She felt him glance up and heard him raise his voice. “Is everyone
else all right?”

Hannah collected herself with difficulty and raised her
head, although she kept her arms firmly about him. Priscilla nodded in response
to his question, wide-eyed. Lady Emily stared at the wreckage in fascination
and Hannah, recognizing the look, knew she would shortly be seeing a painting
to commemorate the event.

Daphne spoke up from her place of safety on the other side
of the fallen bookcase. “You saved my life, Lord Brentfield! That was amazing!”

“We Americans have a word for it,” David said with a grin.
“Smashing.” Hannah felt a nervous laugh bubble up at the absurd pun.

“Hardly the time for levity,” Asheram replied in the
doorway. “Is anyone hurt?”

“We seem to be fine,” David assured him. He glanced down at
her, and Hannah stared up at him, her body trembling. She knew she should move
away, but she couldn’t seem to release him. As Asheram picked his way through
the rubble, David bent his head to hers.

“Much as I love holding you, sweetheart, you really have to
let go. You should get out of here in case something else comes down.”

Hannah swallowed, making herself lower her arms and step
back. David chucked her under the chin and winked at her, forcing an answering
smile from her. She willed her heart beat to return to normal as he turned to
motion Mr. Asheram to help her over the debris.

Lady Brentfield was waiting in the corridor as Hannah and
Lady Emily were handed out. Other servants hurried from the kitchens.

“I heard the commotion from upstairs,” her ladyship
explained. “What’s happened? Was anyone hurt?”

“We’re fine,” Hannah assured her and was surprised to see a
frown that could only be annoyance appear on the woman’s face. Was she worried
about how this accident would affect the success of her house party? Before she
could wonder further, Daphne scrambled out of the room.

“A bookcase fell and nearly crushed me,” she declared. “Lord
Brentfield saved my life. He is a hero!”

The frown deepened. “But he wasn’t hurt?”

Hannah peered closer. Was the woman truly worried about
David? Somehow, she would not have thought it of her. Lady Brentfield ignored
her pointed look.

“No,” Mr. Asheram answered for them as he helped Priscilla
out as well. “His lordship is quite well.”

“How . . . marvelous,” Lady Brentfield remarked. To Hannah’s
mind, she looked anything but pleased. Then she glanced about at the girls.
“Why, you’re filthy. Haversham, see that baths are drawn for Priscilla and her
friends immediately.”

“Right after we clean up the battlefield,” Mr. Asheram
assured her, nodding to two of the footmen to come assist him. Hannah tightened
her lips to keep from smiling.

David poked his head out of the doorway. “Go along, you all.
Asheram and I will take care of this. How about we regroup in the blue room in
an hour for tea?”

“The Blue
Salon
,” Lady Brentfield snapped. “And it
will take us much longer to recover from this catastrophe. We will have tea in
our rooms and a nap to restore our sensibilities. I do not see how we can
possibly join you until dinner.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Very well, if you’re sure.” He
glanced down at his own ruined apparel. “It will probably take me longer than
an hour to clean up anyway, now that you mention it. Dinner it is.”

Hannah did not argue as Lady Brentfield shepherded the girls
upstairs. Indeed, her nerves were raw. He had nearly been killed! She said
another prayer of thanksgiving that he had been spared. She could not think of
a single classical reference for the moment. It was just as well. She knew if
she had tried to draw right then, her trembling hands would have betrayed her.

She also knew she had a duty to perform before she could
retire to the quiet of her room. She went first to Ariadne. As she had
suspected, the girl had also heard the crash and was anxious to learn what had
happened. Hannah gave her a sketchy account, promising to return after she
herself had had a bath and changed.

Despite Lady Brentfield’s assessment, it did not take Hannah
longer than an hour to set herself to rights. Her hair unbound and falling past
her thighs, she padded about the room in her dressing gown and bare feet. She
had just resigned herself to wearing her other uniform when there was a knock
at the door. Daphne bounded in on her response, Lady Emily and Priscilla
trailing her.

They were still in their dressing gowns as well, although
their gowns were satin to her flannel and dotted with laces and bows. Their
hair curled in damp swirls about their faces. “We could not wait,” Daphne
announced, throwing herself down on Hannah’s bed. “We simply had to talk to you
about it.”

“About what?” Hannah asked. She should have felt dismayed
that they had sought her out. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say to them when
she wasn’t teaching them about painting. Nonetheless, it pleased her that they
would voluntarily seek her.

“About the ordeal through which we have all passed,” Lady
Emily intoned.

Priscilla shook her head, golden hair falling into natural
waves about her shoulders. “They continue to go on and on about that silly
accident in the library, Miss Alexander. Do tell them to stop being so
childish.”

“I’m not being childish,” Daphne maintained. “It’s perfectly
natural to want to discuss something of great importance.”

“Particularly when it involves life and death,” Lady Emily
agreed.

Hannah glanced between their earnest faces and Priscilla’s
scornful smirk. “I suppose it is only natural to see how others might feel
about the same event,” she allowed. “It helps us to put our own feelings in
perspective.”

“Exactly!” Daphne crowed, beaming.

Priscilla sniffed. “Well, I can tell you my feelings are not
the least swayed by the entire affair. If you ask me, this house must have
fallen in to a shocking state of disrepair since the previous earl died for
something as sturdy as that bookcase to give way. When I’m mistress of
Brentfield . . .” She stopped suddenly and looked away, biting her lip.

Hannah felt for the girl, who was clearly never going to be
mistress of Brentfield. She patted Priscilla’s shoulder. “When you marry and
have a great house such as this, I’m sure you’ll run it with style and
elegance.”

Priscilla smiled at her. “Yes, I shall. And my house parties
will be the talk of the country. Everyone will want to visit me.”

“I don’t see why,” Daphne grumbled. “One can only take so
much bragging.”

Priscilla’s green eyes flashed. “Well, I like that. See if I
ever take pity on you again, Daphne Courdebas. And I’ll have you know that it
isn’t bragging when it’s perfectly true!”

“Oh, give it up, Pris,” Lady Emily said. “Nothing you’ve
said has been true. You promised us sport, and until the bookcase came down I
must say I’ve been bored nearly to distraction. You promised us stimulating
conversation, and even though his lordship has an interesting sense of humor,
all you’ve done is brag and belittle us. You promised us beautiful
surroundings, and while the art works are interesting, you are right that the
house seems to need work. You promised us we’d see a betrothal before we left,
and his lordship doesn’t seem the least interested in you. In fact, I’d say he
has developed quite a
tendre
for Miss Alexander.”

“That’s enough,” Hannah interceded, hoping to prevent a
discussion of her own affairs and avoid the war that was brewing between the
girls. To her surprise, Priscilla’s haughty face melted into sorrow.

“You’re right,” she murmured, tears pooling. “It’s all
perfectly horrid, and I know you all must hate me!”

“Certainly not,” Hannah declared, glancing at the other
girls sternly. Daphne instantly looked contrite; Lady Emily looked skeptical.

“Well,” Lady Emily declared, “realization is the first step
toward salvation. I daresay we don’t hate you, Pris, but you could go a long
way to making things more pleasant around here.”

Priscilla sniffed back her tears. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll
try harder, really I will. It’s amazing how a near-death experience can change
one.”

“There, you see?” Daphne beamed. “We did need to discuss it.
What are you going to wear to dinner tonight, Miss Alexander?”

Hannah hid a smile at their quick retreat into their normal
concerns. What a shame adult difficulties were not resolved so easily.

“I’ll be wearing my other uniform, of course,” Hannah told
them.

They all looked disappointed.

“That will never do,” Lady Emily declared. “While I enjoy
the dark colors myself, when one is courting, one should try to look more
festive. Bright colors attract the male.”

Hannah choked on her laughter. “Girls, please! I’m not
courting.”

“Of course you are,” Priscilla declared. “Even the countess
has accepted that fact.”

Hannah started to protest, but Daphne jumped off the bed and
stalked to the wardrobe, throwing open the doors. “She’s right,” she announced.
“There’s nothing in here but her other uniform, some drab navy thing, and her
painting smock.”

“Which should have been expected for a teacher,” Lady Emily
confessed. “We shall simply have to take matters into our own hands.”

“Now, girls,” Hannah tried again, alarm rising.

Priscilla walked around her as if in study. “She’s taller
than either of you and has a better figure than Ariadne. It will have to be one
of my gowns.”

“It will have to be no such thing,” Hannah maintained
heatedly. “Your aunt would never forgive me if I wore one of your dresses,
Priscilla. Besides, I’m not a schoolroom miss. You cannot expect me to wear
white.”

“That lavender thing your great aunt sent you for Easter
last year,” Lady Emily replied as if Hannah had not uttered a word. “The one
with the runching about the hem, which you hated. It might do.”

“It would not,” Hannah protested. “Girls, this has gone far
enough. I will not wear Priscilla’s dress.”

Priscilla smiled at her in commiseration. “I would hate to
wear hand-me-downs too, Miss Alexander, truly I would. But beggars cannot be
choosers. I think Lady Emily is quite right about the lavender dress. And
Daphne has a set of amethysts that might suffice.”

Daphne snapped her fingers. “The very things!”

“No,” Hannah told them sternly. “No, no, and no.”

Priscilla took her hands and looked at her beseechingly.
“Oh, please, Miss Alexander? This is my first chance to do a good deed. You
wouldn’t want me to have a relapse into selfishness, would you?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t,” Daphne declared. “Do say yes,
Miss Alexander.”

“I should feel like a great big doll,” Hannah told them,
but, glancing about at the entreating faces, she was certain that nothing she
could say would dissuade them. They all so badly needed a pleasant distraction
after the dangers of the morning. While being dressed up might not amuse her,
it would certainly amuse them.

She sighed. “Oh, all right. Do what you can. Just remember,
you cannot make a silk purse from a sow’s ear. I have no expectations that
anything will change just because you manage to gown me more suitably.”

“You’ll see,” Priscilla promised, eyes shining. “We’ll bring
his lordship to propose, just you wait.”

And that, Hannah reflected as they set to work, would be the
very worst that could happen.

It was a beautiful dress. The silk flowed over her hand in
ripples the color of spring lilacs, shimmering in the candlelight. The cap
sleeves and the square cut neck were edged in a darker purple satin, which also
decorated the hem in a foot deep of swirled runching, the puffy folds of
similar material curling like grape vines. The necklace and earbobs Daphne
produced were a series of amethyst flowers, each center of black jet
surrounding a single diamond. They glowed against Hannah’s skin.

“Nearly perfect,” Priscilla pronounced as Hannah stood
before the Pier glass mirror in the girl’s bedchamber.

Hannah stared at herself, emotions warring. How wonderful it
would be to wear something so lovely, bright, and happy! Yet truth be told, she
was wearing it as much for David’s appreciation as her own. Somehow it seemed
wrong to want to catch his eye when she had already resigned herself to
refusing him. She glanced around at the three beaming faces and realized how
much she would disappoint them if she cried off now. She forced a smile.

“It’s lovely,” she agreed.

Satisfied, they allowed her to go visit Ariadne while they
changed as well.

To Hannah’s surprise, the girl was up and just finishing her
own toilette. Though pale and a little thinner, Ariadne appeared ready to
return to her regular routine. Her enthusiastic endorsement of Hannah’s attire
made Hannah’s spirits rise despite herself. When the other girls joined them,
each of them in bright silk, they made a merry group going down to supper.

As they stepped into the Blue Salon, Hannah’s stomach
knotted. What if he didn’t notice? Worse, what if he didn’t approve? She
instinctively sought him out against the windows and when she saw him, it was
her own reaction she suddenly feared.

For whatever reason, David had finally decided to change out
of his habitual tweed suit. Tonight he wore the black cutaway coat and breeches
of a cultured gentleman. The white cravat, folded elegantly about his long
neck, brought out the blue of his eyes. The cut of the coat and the tightness
of the breeches made her acutely aware of how broad his shoulders were and how
long his legs. When she had first encountered him, he had been David the
Shepherd. Tonight, he was David the King.

The girls dropped curtseys around her, and when she
continued to stare like someone demented, Priscilla tugged her down as well.
Have
I learned nothing in three days?
Hannah thought as she lowered her gaze.
I
still cannot seem to stop devouring him with my eyes!

When she rose it was to find David staring at her just as
fixedly. The warmth of his gaze only served to discompose her further. She was
not so far gone, however, that she failed to notice Daphne elbowing Lady Emily
in the ribs, grinning in obvious pleasure at the response to their efforts.

“Ladies,” he greeted, bowing low. “Thank you for joining me,
and Miss Ariadne too! What a welcome surprise. We’re just waiting for her
ladyship before we can go in to dinner.”

“Wait no longer,” Lady Brentfield replied from behind them.
She stepped around them with a smile, which faded as she caught sight of
Hannah. Hannah stiffened.

“How lovely you all look this evening,” she declared, eyes
narrowing. “That is a delightful dress, Miss Alexander. It puts me in mind of
one in Priscilla’s closet.”

Hannah swallowed, guilt pouring over her anew. Lady
Brentfield had offered her niece the perfect opening, and Hannah feared
Priscilla’s generous streak had not lived long enough to endure such a blatant
call for attention.

The girl surprised her. “Miss Alexander’s is much prettier,”
she replied, although she did accompany the remark with her customary toss of
her head. “Besides, purple makes me look bilious.”

Lady Brentfield managed a smile. “Yes, it is a difficult
color to carry off. That’s why it’s generally reserved for spinsters and
dowagers.”

“What a shame,” David remarked, reaching out to bring
Hannah’s suddenly cold fingers to his lips. “For it’s a lovely color,
especially on Miss Alexander.”

He kissed her fingertips, his warm breath heating her skin
inside the silk gloves. The girls stared, fascinated. Hannah, knowing all eyes
were on her, tried to remain cool and composed, but she could not seem to keep
herself from trembling at his touch. The girls obviously noticed, for they
exchanged looks of triumph. Lady Brentfield turned away.

Despite her ladyship’s attitude, dinner was a merry affair,
and David retired with them immediately afterward to the Blue Salon rather than
wait for his port alone. Even Mr. Asheram joined them, taking his solitary
place beside the doors. Hannah smiled at him, and he returned the smile with a
kindly nod. Then he focused on Lady Brentfield, and his look became decidedly
cooler. Glancing at her ladyship, Hannah saw the countess had seen the look and
was glaring back. She could only hope that there would not be another conflict
to spoil the evening.

Priscilla hurried to the piano and set about playing a
waltz, casting insistent glances at Hannah while David tapped his feet to the
tune. Much as she would have liked to feel his arms around her again, Hannah
refused to gratify them by providing further entertainment. Lady Brentfield was
angry enough as it was. She sat with her back glued to the chair, her slippers
stuck firmly to the Oriental carpet. After a time, Priscilla gave up playing in
obvious disgust.

“After such a difficult day,” Lady Brentfield remarked to no
one in particular, “I would think we should all retire early.”

This raised a chorus of protests from the girls, all, Hannah
heard with surprise, directed at her.

“Oh, must we, Miss Alexander?” Ariadne pleaded. “I feel as
if I’ve been in that bed forever.”

“I don’t think it all that difficult a day,” Daphne
proclaimed. “I could stay up for hours!”

“In my family,” Lady Emily announced, “we do not go to bed
until after midnight, even in the country.”

“Well, I’m tired of playing,” Priscilla pouted, at last
retreating to her usual self-absorbed attitude. Her friends turned on her with
quelling frowns.

“Well, I am,” she insisted. “Why don’t one of you play for a
change?”

“Do you play, Miss Alexander?” Daphne urged, nodding her
head in David’s direction and winking boldly at Hannah.

All eyes swiveled in her direction again. The only people
who didn’t look entreating were Lady Brentfield, who glared, and David, who
looked amused.

“Sorry,” she demurred. “I never learned.”

“Poverty prevents one from learning so many of the social
graces,” Lady Brentfield put in with a complacent nod. Hannah felt herself
pale.

“Where are my manners?” David declared, rising. “You all
have played and danced to entertain me. I should return the favor.”

“Do you play, my lord?” Ariadne asked eagerly, even as
Hannah blinked in surprise at his gesture.

“No,” he replied regretfully. “But I have been told I have a
reasonably fine singing voice. If someone would consent to accompany me, we’ll
put that theory to the test.”

Priscilla hurried back to the piano bench, previous
weariness obviously forgotten. “What shall I play, my lord?”

He looked thoughtful. “We’ll have to think of something
known on both sides of the ocean. Any ideas?”

“Do you know, ‘Greensleeves’?,” Ariadne asked.

“No, not that,” Daphne chided. “What about some native folk
song?”

“I wouldn’t know how to play that, silly,” Priscilla
scolded.

“We need something more meaningful,” Lady Emily put in, and
Hannah was sure she would suggest some funereal song. To her surprise, the girl
had other ideas. “What about ‘My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose’?”

David grinned at her. “One of my favorites. We’ve heard of
the Bard of Scotland even in Boston. Robert Burns it is.”

David and Priscilla put their heads together behind the
piano. Hannah felt a spark of jealousy flare within her and quickly put it out.
The girl was getting attention for once for her talent. She had every right to
enjoy it. Lady Brentfield evidently thought so as well, for she was watching
the two of them closely. Hannah hoped she was not still harboring a desire to
see the two of them wed, for David clearly had no such ideas. Then Priscilla
played a run up the keys, and David began to sing.

Hannah found herself staring once again. He had a clear,
warm voice, higher than a traditional baritone but not as high as a tenor. The
words flowed gentle and sweet from his lips, and if she closed her eyes, she
could imagine that he sang them for her alone.

“O, my love is like a red, red rose,

That's newly sprung in June:

O, my love is like a melody,

That's sweetly play'd in tune.

So fair thou art, my bonnie lass,

So deep in love am I:

And I will love thee still, my dear,

Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi' the sun:

And I will love thee still, my dear,

While the sands of life shall run.”

The message washed over her, promising a future she had
never dared to dream. She opened her eyes, met his gaze, and realized he was
singing the words for her. The others in the room seemed to have receded behind
a gauze curtain. The only people in all the immense great house were David and
Hannah, and the only sound was his tender voice and the beating of her heart in
time to a music only the two of them could hear.

She didn’t know how many verses he had sung but when he
stopped, it was entirely too soon. The girls applauded wildly, even Priscilla
on the bench. Asheram added his acclaim from his station beside the door. Lady
Brentfield sighed.

David gave them a bow. “Ladies, you are too kind.”

“Oh, sing another,” Daphne begged, and the others chimed in.
Hannah wasn’t sure which she feared most, that he would sing again and she
would betray herself, or that he would not and she would never hear his sweet
voice again.

Lady Brentfield stood, shaking out her skirts. “It was kind
of you to humor the girls,” she told David, “but I must insist that they get
some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Doing what?” Lady Emily muttered. Hannah frowned at her.

Lady Brentfield must have heard the comment. “We are going
in to Wenwood to shop,” she replied, eyes flashing as if she dared any of them
to disagree with her. “There are some things I need in preparation for Easter,
and I thought you all might enjoy accompanying me. Should you find anything
that interests you, I will pay for it, of course.”

Asheram frowned. Ariadne and Daphne brightened though Lady
Emily still looked skeptical. Priscilla’s brow was furrowed, but she said
nothing. Hannah wondered what was on the girl’s mind. She somehow couldn’t
imagine Priscilla, even the reformed Priscilla, refusing a shopping trip.

“Just a little longer?” David wheedled with a wink at
Hannah. He sounded for all the world like her younger brother when they were
children, trying to convince their mother to give up another cookie. Hannah
would not have had the will to refuse him.

Lady Brentfield was obviously made of sterner stuff. “I try
to keep the girls’ best interests at heart,” she answered, glancing pointedly
at Hannah. Hannah felt a blush rising again. In truth, she would have gladly
stayed up all night to be with David, a fact that only made her feel more
guilty.

“I bow to the voice of wisdom,” David replied, doing just
that. “Good night, ladies, and pleasant dreams.”

As he rose, he winked again at Hannah, and she felt her
blush deepening. Following the girls from the room, she reflected that once
again she was unlikely to sleep much that night.