Page 54 of My Devoted Viscount (Brazen Bluestockings #2)

“Mother was right-handed,” Vincent offered. As difficult as it was for him to recall clear memories of her, it had to be even harder for Wallace, who had only been seven when she died. Xavier had barely turned four.

“Well.” Wallace cleared his throat. “Are you lot going to regale us with Rossini or not?”

The advantage of performing music his audience had never heard was that none of them knew what the overture sounded like with a full orchestra, so they had no idea what they were missing.

All he, Xavier, and Matthew had to do was play their parts well.

And trust that they had correctly transcribed the notes, to do Rossini justice.

Vincent set up his music stand halfway between the pianoforte and harpsichord so that he, Matthew, and Xavier could all see each other, and started them off.

There were a few missed notes, a late entrance or two.

Nothing additional rehearsal wouldn’t resolve.

Still, Vincent was able to set that aside and lose himself in the pleasure of the music, the brilliance of Rossini’s composition.

In his head he heard the full orchestra at the opera house in Rome playing the overture to The Barber of Seville .

When they finished, Vincent blinked a few times before he brought himself back to his surroundings. Matthew and Xavier bowed, reminding Vincent to do the same, as their audience applauded their approval.

The maid brought in the tea tray just then, and the group discussed the newest opera, wondering how long before it would arrive in London and from there travel to be performed at theaters in smaller towns. Such as Sidmouth.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Vincent.

Matthew could only concentrate on his trip in the morning and wondering aloud how soon he could return with the marriage license and if he could arrive before his future father-in-law.

Gert and Agnes discussed preparations they wanted to make for the expected guests and the subsequent wedding breakfast.

Vincent was annoyed that he couldn’t get private conversation time with Sophia.

Too many people were listening in to every syllable, watching every nuance of interaction.

At least it seemed so. After everyone retired tonight, he’d make use of the hidden passageway so they could converse away from prying eyes.

He didn’t plan on much actual talking, though their mouths would be busy.

It irked him to see her so happy. Happy because she would soon be leaving Hobart Grange.

Leaving him.

And he was annoyed with himself for being irked. For not being able to share in her joy at no longer feeling stress about how to support herself or wondering where she would live or work, at having her future settled.

A future that did not include him.

He was further annoyed that the pastries tasted like dust. Nothing on the tea tray was appetizing. He couldn’t understand why his stomach was so upset. And why he kept having pain in his chest every time he looked at Sophia, such difficulty breathing.

If it continued, he might need to see a doctor.

Finally, it was time to retire for the night.

When Sophia hooked her arm through Miss Ebrington’s, encouraging the girl to spend the night in her chamber so they could discuss wedding plans, Vincent wanted to howl in frustration.

So much for his plan to use the secret passageway to have a private conversation with her.

* * *

After a restless night contemplating ideas he had never planned to contemplate, dawn was barely peeking above the horizon when Vincent dressed and scratched on Matthew’s door, then let himself in.

Instead of greeting him with sleepy indignation, Matthew already had on his boots and was letting his valet tie his neckcloth. “Good morning,” he said without turning his head or exhibiting the slightest degree of surprise at seeing his friend in his bedchamber so early.

“I’ve had an idea,” Vincent said.

* * *

Mildred beside her, Sophia filled her plate at the sideboard and took her usual seat at the table.

She stifled a yawn as Marshall poured for her.

She and Mildred had stayed awake late, discussing everything from how to deal with her father to where she and Matthew would travel after their wedding.

Mildred wanted to visit her brothers and other relatives on her side but didn’t know much about Matthew’s family yet, beyond his deplorable cousin who had thankfully named Matthew his heir before conveniently dying.

She also knew he planned to depart at first light, so he could return before her parents arrived.

“My heart already yearns for his return,” Mildred had said, the back of her hand dramatically held to her forehead, before she burst into giggles.

“I truly do love him,” she’d said a few moments later, as serious as Sophia had ever seen her.

“I think he loves you just as much,” Sophia replied.

Sophia hadn’t the heart to dampen the girl’s high spirits and tell her to go to sleep.

Which meant, with Mildred’s excited chatter, Sophia had had no time to reflect on the duet she’d played with Fairfax last night, how he’d held her hand.

Had given her credit for helping with his composition.

Where many men would have been embarrassed to admit receiving help from a woman, he seemed to enjoy showing it off. Had it just been for the novelty?

Speaking of Fairfax, he hadn’t come downstairs yet. She had not expected to see Mr. Huntley before he departed early this morning, but thought Fairfax would remain behind with his aunts.

She froze as a chill ran down her spine.

Had he already departed for Italy?

Perhaps decided to set out on his journey at the same time as his friend so they could travel together for a while.

Without saying farewell?

She pushed her plate away, her appetite gone.

* * *

Two hours later, Mrs. Digby called Sophia to task when her attention wandered yet again. “I know an old woman’s reminiscences can be boring to one as young as you, but you’ve done a much better job of hiding it until today.”

“What? No, not boring. Not in the least. I’m just, ah…”

“Thinking about your next adventure? Where you will go on holiday?” Mrs. Digby ruffled Henry’s ears. “And which of the four employment offers you will accept?” She raised her shoulders up to her ears and gave an impish grin. “ Four! I’m lucky to have snagged you when I did!”

Sophia felt herself flush. Yes, she should be thinking of those things.

Her future employment. A holiday where she could relax and enjoy herself before taking up her duties at an exciting new school.

Or a private residence in an idyllic location, working for a family and with a colleague she already knew and liked. She hadn’t decided yet.

A future that did not include Fairfax.

And there was the crux of it.

In such a short time, she’d come to enjoy his company. Too much. Her intellectual side knew that they’d never had a future together. Never could have. As he’d said from practically their first meeting, he was simply passing through on his way to Italy. And she was on her way to new employment.

But her emotional side … her wildly inappropriate, impractical side …

that side already felt his absence like a missing piece of her anatomy.

Missed hearing his rumbling voice that made her insides vibrate.

His flirtatious grin, his invitation to mischief.

Like riding on his broad shoulders to escape a flooding cave.

Bantering in her bedchamber at their first meeting.

That’s all it was. Flirtation.

And that kiss they’d shared at the pianoforte? Flirtation.

The gentleman from London, visiting his great-aunts in the seaside village, had just been engaging in flirtation with her.

A bluestocking and a teacher, used to being surrounded by silly teenage girls, she’d known and understood what he was doing, and entered into it as a willing participant. For the fun and novelty of it.

Not because she was developing any serious feelings for him. Any serious attachment.

If she kept repeating the lie, perhaps in time she would come to believe it herself.