Page 20

The most holy band of society is friendship. It has been well said, by a shrewd satirist, “that rare as true love is, true friendship is still rarer.”

—Mary Wollstonecraft

I was about ready to scale the walls or yank my hair out by the roots, whichever came first. I’d been confined to the house for the better part of a fortnight, and even though Keston and Ela had been here, it wasn’t the same. I missed my friends. I missed Rafi. Despite his gallant promises of rescue, there was only so much he could antagonize my father. When he’d climbed the trellis outside my room a couple of days in, he’d only made it halfway before being discovered. The duke had then stationed men around the house. A second rescue attempt via the scullery had earned poor Rafi a thwack with a broom from the housekeeper. After that, we both agreed that I’d serve out my sentence alone.

Flowers and notes from each of my friends had been delivered, but it only made the forced separation harder to endure. Even playing my pianoforte hadn’t brought the comfort it usually did.

What also made things exponentially worse were the headlines in the gossip rags that hinted of scandal.

Where on earth is Lady Z _______ ?

Is London’s jewel part of the ongoing hysteria investigation at The Welton House School for Elegant Young Ladies ?

Do tell, what skeletons is our diamond hiding ?

What do the duke and duchess of H________ have to say ?

My absence from the ton was conspicuous in the extreme, though my parents had explained to our circles that I was recovering from illness. The family physician had recommended staying in bed and lots of rest. From the bits and pieces of information I could glean from Ela, Viscount Hollis had launched his official grievances against the Perkins sisters, and as expected, the two elder ones had hung their sister out to dry, renouncing all ties. True to his word, the vile man had also cut off his nephew quite publicly, stating that his behavior was unbecoming of their line. Total poppycock, of course.

Rafi had retaliated by scheduling an equally public presentation of his art at the British Institution’s Pall Mall Picture Galleries, and he’d invited the prince regent. The show would be in one week and I’d already received my invitation. Hopefully, my father’s punishment would not last that long, but even if it did, I didn’t care what I would have to do to be there. I would not miss Rafi’s vernissage for the world.

While I resented my father’s decree with every fiber of my being, I also saw the wisdom in it. Greer had written that her whole family had been interviewed. So had Nori’s, and she, too, had been forbidden from leaving home for a week. All four of my friends, including Lalita and Blythe, had been asked to temporarily leave Welton, which I knew would not have gone over well with Lalita’s aunt and uncle. She had been silent, though she’d sent baskets of baked goods in lieu of words. Had she been interrogated, too? I felt disconnected and cut off from my circle.

“Lady Zenobia,” my lady’s maid said, making me jump from where I sat idly holding some truly atrocious needlepoint, totally lost in my thoughts. I’d completely botched the roses, and now they looked like sad, crushed pink socks with green ears. Who embroidered socklike roses? Clearly a miserable, glum girl with nothing but time on her hands who couldn’t stitch two threads together.

“What is it, Gemma?” I asked grouchily.

“This was delivered to you via urgent messenger.” She handed me a sealed message, a bright smile on her face despite my rancid disposition. She’d had to bear my bad humor for almost two weeks. “You should get dressed and go for a walk in the gardens. The weather is lovely today.”

I scowled and stared down at my stained dressing robe, which was covered in crumbs from my breakfast. “No thanks, I am a prisoner.”

“This house is definitely a prison,” Gemma agreed. “The horror of it, truly. Honestly, I do not know how you can possibly bear it.”

I narrowed my eyes. Her face was arranged in a pleasant expression though her voice was sardonic in the extreme. “Are you being sarcastic, Gemma dear?”

“Goodness, it was rather on the nose, milady.” She laughed. “And yes, you’re acting like a very spoiled brat at the moment. Have a bath and get some fresh air.”

“I should sack you,” I said without any heat in it.

Gemma shrugged, her lined face crinkling. “You’d only hire me right back.”

She wasn’t wrong. As she bustled about my bedchamber, putting out my clothes for the day, I opened the message she’d brought. It was from Rafi. My heart skipped a silly beat at the sight of his plain, meticulous handwriting and then promptly skipped another at the address.

My ever beautiful Lady Knight,

Be ready for adventure at ten o ’ clock this evening. Dress in highwaywoman ’ s clothing and arrive in your carriage house for further instructions. I urge your discretion in this matter, lest our efforts be for naught. I am counting the hours until you ’ re back in my arms.

Yours in esteem,

R.

I let myself swoon for a full minute, maybe two, before rereading it once more. My curiosity was certainly piqued. Highwaywoman’s clothing? I took that to mean gentlemen’s trousers and a shirt, which made my eyebrows shoot to my hairline. What on earth did he have planned? It also said to be discreet, the words urge your discretion underlined. I didn’t want to risk incurring any more of my father’s wrath and have him extend my sentence, but I was very intrigued and also quite sick of my own company. What would it hurt to escape these walls for a few hours?

Putting the letter to the side, I sniffed my armpits and winced. Gemma was right—I was in dire need of a bath. And perhaps a walk. It would do me good to stretch my legs.

The hours passed by at a snail’s pace as I waited for the time in Rafi’s note to come around, and I was a vibrating mess of pins and needles when I heard the clock in the foyer strike ten times. I’d spent the day distracting myself with more terrible embroidery, working on the song I’d been composing, and harassing all the kitchen servants to the point that Cook had shooed me away with a frying pan.

Gingerly, careful not to make a sound, I tiptoed down the stairs. My parents were out, but I had no doubt that my every step would be reported back to the duke. I’d made a huge scene about turning in early because I was so tired. The house was quiet when I slid out the side door and hurried to my carriage house. Fingers fumbling with the lock, I unlatched the door and walked inside, only for my jaw to fall to the floor as the lamp illuminated.

My best friends faced me: Greer, Nori, and Lalita.

And Rafi, who stood to the side.

“What are you all doing here?” I breathed, and nearly crashed headfirst into their arms. I wanted to scream with joy, but I contented myself with muted sounds of delight. It was so good to see them!

Greer grinned. “What do you think? Breaking you out.”

“But my father…”

“What the duke doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and we don’t plan to be gone that long,” Nori said with a gleeful grin.

Lalita gave me a hesitant smile. “It’s good to see you, Zia.”

“You, too.” My acrimony had all but disappeared in the wake of a good few solitary days of reflection. I didn’t care if Lalita had been the one to tell Sarah, which had started the ball rolling in the first place. In the end, I had to be responsible for my own actions. That had been a bitter pill to swallow, but swallow it I had.

“Where are we going?” I asked, sneaking a glance at Rafi, who hadn’t said a word, only watched me with a smile hovering over his lips. I wanted to run over and embrace him just as I had the others, but a sudden bout of shyness gripped me.

Seeing Rafi in the flesh after his declaration two weeks ago felt monumental. And gracious, he looked delicious. His dark hair was windswept, brushed back from his face, and curling over his collar. Tendrils fell onto his angular face, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jawline, and the full curve of his lips…. Guh. I dragged my gaze up with a gulp. Piercing gray eyes under thick brows glinted like silver pools of mercury, and when they met mine, it was all I could do to stay upright.

“Close your mouth, or you’ll catch flies,” Greer teased, and I instantly snapped my lips shut, feeling my cheeks flame at being caught.

Nori shoved me so hard I nearly stumbled. “Don’t just stand there, you dunderhead!”

Face hot, I let my legs carry me across the room. It was a handful of steps at most, but it felt like a mile, each pounding heartbeat making my chest squeeze tighter and tighter. “Hullo,” I said, my hoarse voice practically unrecognizable.

“Firefly,” he said softly, warmth shimmering in those hypnotic eyes. Warmth and so much more that I could barely think. In my solitude, I’d almost convinced myself that I’d imagined Rafi’s declaration and his proposal. But no. The truth was staring me right in the face. I drank him in and didn’t even spare a thought to concealing any of my emotions. I might not have been able to articulate them aloud— yet —but I wanted him to see.

“You look good,” I said dimly, and wanted to kick myself.

That treacherous smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. “You are exquisite.”

Pinning my lips between my teeth, I fought the wave of pleasure that engulfed me. I was dressed in a shirt and navy waistcoat with black breeches tucked into boots and a plain coat. My hair was braided into a sideways tail that crossed from one side of my scalp to go over my shoulder. It was free from jewels or flowers. My face was freshly scrubbed without a hint of lip stain or rouge.

And yet, I’d never felt more beautiful.

He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles as he’d done before. Tingles spun through my bones like tiny bolts of lightning. My mouth dried, lungs shriveling to the size of peas as I recalled the kiss that had decimated me. From the gleam in his eyes, he did, too.

“Chop, chop, you two,” Nori catcalled, making me snap out of my lustful trance, and I hopped back like a deranged bunny in utter mortification. “Unless you want us to wait outside and give you”—she cocked her head in deep thought—“say ten minutes to work whatever this is out of your systems? Or maybe twenty? You look…quite overcome.”

“Nori!” I burst out, horrified.

But Rafi’s smirk only transformed into a full, uninhibited grin, causing a dimple— holy mind-smelting swoon —to flash. “Come now, Miss Kaneko, I’d need at least a solid hour,” he drawled with a wink. “To take my time and ensure total satisfaction.”

Oh. Dear. Heavens. Above.

Was he talking about…?

From the look on Nori’s delighted face, she hadn’t expected that response. Greer was grinning and Lalita had gone the color of a tomato. “Mr. Nasser, an unselfish lover,” Nori commented. “Color me pleasantly surprised.”

Ears burning hot, my mouth went slack. My poor heart didn’t know what to do with itself. Trample its way through my rib cage and launch toward him, or drum itself to a beatific, glorious death. Rafi lifted his hand to my chin and gently eased my jaw up.

What was happening? I let out a breathless wheeze at the fantasies—no thanks to Nori’s last comment—that suddenly invaded my vision. My ability to take a full breath fizzled. We’d all talked about coupling on the evenings spent in this very carriage house when we’d stolen Mama’s ratafia and really gotten into our cups. But my imaginary lover had always been faceless. Now he had a face. Rafi’s face.

“Cat snatched your tongue?” he teased, his thumb moving to trace over my bottom lip. He looked like he wanted to snatch said appendage. And I wanted to let him.

I moved backward, pulling myself out of his mesmeric orbit, and dragged a full breath of air into my aching lungs. Had he always been this tall? This commanding? This delectable ?

“Come on, calf eyes,” Greer said, yanking on the end of my braid. “Let’s go before the two of you obliterate the place with all this tension.”

I fought futilely for composure. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure,” she said with a wink. “Oh, wait, I have something for you. I’m not certain if you saw these yet.”

She handed me a set of trundled newssheets. I braced myself for the contents as I unrolled them. The headlines in the Times were enough to cool the heat in my blood.

The Welton House School for Elegant Young Ladies to close !

Building lot on Shelton Street up for auction

My heart sank. Viscount Hollis had gotten exactly what he wanted. Quickly, I scanned the rest of the article, seeing that even though Welton was closing its doors, Miss Perkins’s fate still remained undecided. The article accused Miss Ada Perkins of being a danger to the young ladies in her care and admonished the school for allowing questionable reading material. It went on to say that a small group of mothers, directed by Lady Joshi and Mrs.Peabody, had led the charge in the teacher’s condemnation, after Lady Joshi had found a copy of Frankenstein in her daughter Petal’s possession.

Lalita wrung her hands. “This was all my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I said. “Not yours, not ours. And I want to apologize for thinking that any of you might knowingly betray the code.” It wasn’t enough, I knew, so I forced myself to face Lalita. “I’m sorry that I was upset that you told Sarah about us. I should not have accused you of not caring about the Lady Knights.” I expelled a hard breath. “The truth is, we all knew the consequences of what we were doing. We could have been found out any other way. I think when Miss Perkins told us alis volat propriis, she didn’t mean committing any crimes by spreading our wings. So, that’s on us.”

“You were right, though,” Lalita said in a small voice. “I think I confided in her because I wanted to get back at you. My feelings were hurt that everyone was moving on without me, and I wanted a reaction. ”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” I said.

“It was an accident, you know,” she said softly. “Petal’s mother told the Peabodys, and Sarah’s parents whisked her away to Bath for some special hospital for girls suffering from hysteria when she attempted to defend the book to them. She was locked in a padded room for a solid week. She wrote me that she didn’t mean to expose the Lady Knights—she was explaining about the uncertain future of the orphanage, and it slipped out.”

Suddenly, I regretted my uncharitable thoughts. That sounded absolutely horrid. “Is she well?”

“She is, I believe, but she has completely capitulated to her parents’ demands and won’t return to London this season. She’s at their country house in Reading, but she’s afraid to be banished back to Bath.”

Nori shook her head. “I don’t blame her. Those kinds of hospitals are a nightmare.”

We all stared at each other on the brink of tears. I was so grateful for their friendship, even through all the ups and downs. At least we had each other, and that had to count for something.

“Group hug!” Nori announced, and I felt myself suffocated by three half-crying, half-laughing girls.

I met Rafi’s admiring stare over their shoulders and warmed at the approval in his eyes. It wasn’t easy admitting to my friends that I’d been wrong, but it definitely erased the burden I’d been carrying.

“Enough of this dramatic caterwauling,” Greer said after planting a loud kiss on my forehead. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Wait, what are we doing?” I asked, and then froze, staring down at the telltale clothing I’d been asked to wear. “Not another heist, are we? Because I’m quite certain that the duke and duchess will have words for me about that, or worse. And I do value not being locked away until I’m old and wretched.”

“No.” She grinned. “Nothing so criminal.” She made a small space between her thumb and forefinger. “But maybe courting a wee bit of trouble in Covent Garden. Don’t worry, we have the big bad Mr. Nasser to protect us. Anyway, if you’re worried, it’s your decision.”

Trouble? I could not deny the bubble of excitement that expanded inside me at the thought of visiting the thrilling West End of London. Not even the thought of bearing the brunt of my father’s displeasure or Mama’s disappointment could curb my enthusiasm. Having been cooped up for days on end, I was chomping at the bit. And I trusted my friends not to push things too far. Besides, Rafi would never let anything untoward happen to me.

“To Valhalla!” I whisper-yelled to Greer, who gave a soft whoop.

We left the carriage house silently and piled into Rafi’s waiting carriage at the far end of the mews. It was a tight squeeze with the five of us, but I certainly wasn’t going to complain. I was sandwiched between Rafi and Nori, while Lalita and Greer took up the opposite bench. I tried not to inhale Rafi’s warm scent of sandalwood and fresh rain, but it was nearly impossible. It was also impossible not to be aware of the hard muscles pressing into my right side or the fact that only two layers of fabric separated our legs. He was a veritable furnace. Or perhaps that was me, immolating from the inside.

I gulped and made the mistake of looking over at Greer, who waggled her eyebrows in the most obnoxious manner. I had to stop being so transparent when it came to the gentleman next to me.

“Might I remind you that I know one Lars Nielsen’s address by heart,” I mock threatened, and then watched in satisfaction as her leer vanished.

Greer’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t!”

“Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think? What would sweet Mr. Nielsen think of his betrothed gallivanting across London?”

Her grin returned. “He would tell me to be safe and have fun.”

My eyes narrowed. “What about keeping boiled sweets in your cleavage?”

Her cheeks went pink, but she tossed her head. “Who do you think came up with the idea so I don’t get rage-hungry? He’s saving lives, and you don’t even know it.”

My revenge plan deflated. Lars was clearly above my petty attempts to get even.

“He sounds like a good one,” Rafi said, his deep voice tumbling over me.

“I’m not keeping sweets in my décolletage, so don’t get any ideas,” I said under my breath, earning myself a smirk from Rafi that should not have been as wicked as it was.

“He’s my best friend,” Greer said. “Well, outside of this lot, that is. But we grew up together, and Lars gets me in a way that no one else does, just as I get him.” She hesitated, then nodded as if to herself. “We’re both a bit different to everyone else in how we feel about each other. It’s not sensual.” She jabbed her pointer finger at us and waved it in a circle. “Not like the two of you. We care for each other deeply, and we are both pleased with the betrothal.”

I was shocked that she was disclosing anything about her intended to Rafi when she’d taken months to open up to me that she even had a fiancé. Much less one who mirrored her own ambivalent thoughts on attraction and intimacy. It was rare to be accepted so unconditionally, especially if one didn’t adhere to traditional standards. I was happy for my friend.

“That’s good,” Rafi said. “It doesn’t always happen that way. True matches in our world are unusual. I’m glad you found that.”

I knew he was talking about his own parents. When his father died, his mother had returned to the man she’d loved. I had no idea how she could share him with other wives or so many concubines, but I also understood that love came in many forms and relationships could take different, fluid shapes. Case in point was Nori and Blythe. Or my brother’s friend Blake, who seemed to have a different flavor of the week, no matter their sex. Or even Greer and Lars, who both didn’t experience sexual attraction at all. Love made space for all of us.

As if he could hear that last thought, I felt Rafi’s gaze flutter to me.

I have no idea how I managed to hold it together until we got to where we were going, somewhere near Drury Lane in Covent Garden, but I did. The inside of me, however, was a melty, puddly mess. As the coach slowed, I glanced down the street to where Rafi’s place was. That reminded me. “Is Miss Perkins still at your studio?” I asked him.

“She is.”

Perturbed, I glanced at my friends. “What will happen now that Welton has been closed? Will her sisters take her in?”

Lalita’s face crumpled. “No, they’ve kicked her out, and she hasn’t been able to find a new position since.”

“They can’t just abandon her. That’s wrong.” I scowled in disgust, filled with a need to check in on her or at least show her that she had our support. “Do we have time to stop by since we’re so close?”

Rafi checked his pocket watch and nodded. “We do.”

It didn’t take us long to arrive at Rafi’s studio, and we all crammed inside when a smiling Miss Perkins welcomed us in for a cup of tea. Despite it being his residence, Rafi remained in the small receiving salon where Gemma used to sit. Miss Perkins seemed sprightly enough, though she had dark shadows under her eyes. “What a pleasure it is to see you, girls. I trust none of the recent happenings have stopped you from reading?”

Everyone laughed. Of course, she would be concerned that we had slacked off. “No, Miss Perkins,” we chorused, though that was a bit of a fib on my part. In my misery at being punished, I’d scoured my parents’ library, but nothing had held my interest, not even the stack of deliciously gothic penny romance novels I’d discovered on the topmost shelves. Those had only made me yearn for Rafi…and that in itself had been pure torture.

“We heard about your sisters,” Greer said, setting her teacup and saucer down. The mood quickly sobered. “What are you going to do?”

A defeated sigh left Miss Perkins. “Keep trying to find employment, I suppose, but no one in the ton will hire me as a governess because of the scandal. I might have to leave London, or even England.”

I gasped. “You can’t.”

“I might not have a choice, my lady,” she said sadly, and my heart sank. There was no solid connection between the Lady Knights and Viscount Hollis’s plan to discredit the school, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty that we had made a bad situation worse for poor Miss Perkins. Any whisper of gossip and her chances of working as a teacher or governess would be greatly reduced. Add hysteria into the mix and parents would balk. I balled my fists but kept my smile up for my teacher’s sake.

After we finished our tea, said our goodbyes, and were once more in the carriage, I cursed under my breath, drawing the attention of my friends. “We need to do something.”

“We could write to the Times, ” Lalita suggested. “Express our outrage.”

“Or have all our horses defecate on Lady Joshi’s and Mrs. Peabody’s doorsteps,” Nori muttered, and we stared at her in shock until she raised her hands. “I’m jesting. Mostly.”

I suppressed my laughter at her fierce expression. “What if we could find her a position or confront her sisters or do a petition to save Welton?”

“Count me in,” Greer said, and the other two nodded emphatically.

I mulled the ideas over in my head. Collective pressure was a tool that could be used to make things happen. I’d seen my mother use it in her appeals to her various groups. Perhaps she’d be able to offer some advice.

My mind was whirling by the time the coach stopped in front of a well-lit private house. Over the doorway was a sign that read Queen’s Rose with a dented wrought-iron rose and vine that reminded me of my sock embroidery. I bit back a chuckle. Perhaps it was a sign. Impatience filled me at whatever surprise was in store.

Was it some kind of gentlemen’s club, hence the clothing I’d been directed to wear? Would it be like the one with the fighting? But when we entered the club behind Rafi, who handed over some kind of card to the director, I noticed that it was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside. Then the music was the next thing to hit me. That along with the fact that both men and women crammed its walls. It was bright and boisterous and fairly crackling with energy. I loved it!

The space was some kind of tavern or maybe theater or maybe both, though there was no big stage as far as I could see. Tables were strewn about the cramped place, occupied by entertained patrons who were in the middle of eating a meal. There was a dance floor where couples were swinging each other to the fiddlers standing at the edge. I couldn’t help the grin that broke across my face. It felt like supper and a show.

“Shall we ask to be shown to a table?” I asked loudly, though there didn’t seem to be a free seat in the space.

“Your friends will go to my box,” Rafi said, and then I realized that there were upper supper boxes around the sides, very much akin to a fancy theater. I registered his words a second late. “But you and I will go over here.”

His box? I stumbled in confusion as my friends grinned with some secret they all knew. “Have fun!” Greer said.

“Don’t swoon,” Nori chirped, while Lalita shot me an enthusiastic grin.

“Don’t swoon?” I repeated in confusion while Rafi led me away. “Why in the world would she say such a thing?” Was I actually going to do something that I would need to fear for my sensibilities?

Rafi chuckled. “I’m sure she meant it in the best possible way. Some people can get nervous for a performance.”

Oh. I stumbled. Wait. What performance ?

We stopped at the stage, where Rafi spoke with the manager. And then he was grinning and shoving a sheaf of papers—sheet music from my studio—into my hands. Bewildered, I stared at him as I heard the stage manager announce a special treat for their audience featuring a new kind of music. The crowd broke into cheers.

“And without further ado, I present Mistress Knight.”

My soles were glued to the floor and Rafi gave me a little nudge. He held out his palm, and in it were three pairs of screws of varying sizes, two bolts, and a chunk of rubber. “You’re on. Show them what you’re made of.”

I could barely think after he smashed his mouth to mine, kissed me absolutely senseless, and propelled me onto the stage toward the pianoforte illuminated by gaslight. The panic didn’t come until I was in front of the instrument with my music in place, but as I ran my fingers over the keys, I felt at home. In this tavern in the middle of nowhere with all these faceless people eagerly waiting. I was terrified, but I’d never felt more alive in my life.

I would play my music for these people. I approached the edge of the small dais, my voice ringing clear. “My name is Knight. I’m a pianist, but not one that you’ve ever heard. Some may find it strange, and others off-putting. Some may think it monstrous, but at the very core of ourselves where our inner strings are broken or worn, where the very imperfect soul of us resides, we find that a flawed harmony can be beautiful, too.”

With that, I arranged the screws and the bolts along with the rubber and the last sheet of my music over the strings. I could feel the curious gazes of the other musicians, and my nerves went taut. I glanced over to the side where Rafi stood, his gaze ever so proud. His belief in me was everything. “Bring down the house,” he yelled.

Grinning, I intended to do just that.

By the time I was finished with the piece I’d composed for Frankenstein, its powerful notes soul jarring and life-giving, my body was humming and my fingers were numb. Dead silence preceded the thunderous applause that I stood for to take my bow. People crowded me as I stepped off the stage, asking what type of music that was and how I’d come up with it.

“I don’t know what it’s called,” I replied in a daze. “I use parchment on the strings to get that bassoon-buzzing type of sound, and the rest is experimental. Some pianofortes have special damper pedals that do the same. I certainly did not invent it, but music is like a language, one that’s ever evolving.”

“Astonishing,” someone told me, patting me on the back, and I warmed at the praise that was echoed by many others.

By the end of it all, I was breathless with exhilaration as I threw myself into Rafi’s waiting arms.

“You were magnificent, love,” he said, spinning me in a circle.

“Thank you for doing this.” He’d given me the one thing I’d said I wanted if I could choose—to play my music in front of hundreds of people. Brimming with joy, I gazed at him, and the world revolved around us like he was the sun. “Rafi?”

“Yes, Firefly?”

I let him see it all…every last emotion I’d hoarded for years. “I am positively, absurdly, wildly in love with you.”