The Architect of Song (Haunted Hearts Legacy Book 1) (27 page)

A rush of pride filled me. “I’m simply observant.”

“Observant indeed. But there is nothing simple about you.”

His compliment made me smile. “I wonder, how wise is it, to invite the previous owner to invest in the manor’s opening? Larson lost the mine’s deed in a gamble to you. He must be harboring ill will.”

The viscount’s expression closed, an indication that the subject closed, as well. Perhaps he hoped that by being generous to Larson, he might gain more details of Hawk’s death. I could respect that.

He twirled his cane on the floor. “So, what do you think of the others?”

I shrugged. “What matters is what you think. They are your business partners, your guests.”

“Bah. I don’t like playing host.”

“Why would you have a dream to open such an establishment, if you dislike sharing your company?”

“This is nothing of what I dreamed.” The moment the words slipped from his mouth, he looked as if he wished to gobble them up again. He stared at his black silk slippers, jaw clenched.

I frowned. “But Miss Abbot alluded that you have wanted this since childhood, planned such an establishment since your youth.”

He faced me. “Miss Emerline, as I’m sure you surmised from my earlier note, I was once a very different man. Spoiled. Selfish. Meeting my brother, learning of his broken past … being faced with his death—it changed me. I now crave a quiet routine. A happy home with gardens to tend. A wife and children. Tranquility.”

Tranquility? How did the dungeon’s torture chamber fit into such a life?
Knowing I couldn’t possibly ask that, I asked a more obvious question. “So, why go to all this trouble if you don’t want any of it?”

“To uphold the family name. I made a promise.”

I narrowed my eyes. “To your father? He should be here, sharing in your successes. A family should stand beside one another in happy times, just as in tragedies. It is what they do.”

“Is it?” Lord Thornton shook his head, as if he truly didn’t know.

Within me, a hundred questions begged for answers. There was more to his father’s absence than he let on, not to mention his aunt’s clandestine presence. But this was not the place to broach such subjects. Not with so many guests puttering about.

“Have you eaten?” The question bubbled up before I could stop it. He seemed so lost and alone. I felt a tug at my heart to imagine him in any discomfort. “You missed supper. A good host must maintain his stamina.”

An attractive flush dusted his cheeks—the first I’d seen of such a trait. I rather liked it.

“I had some tea and toast earlier,” he answered. “It will suffice until the servants bring out cake for the guests. Thank you for your concern.”

I dropped my focus to the hat at my feet. “It was just an observation.”

He grasped my hand and cradled it in his palm, a warm and genuine gesture. I looked up. “Whatever the case, it is nice to have someone tending me.”

“But haven’t you always had that?” I asked, thinking of his privileged life in contrast to Hawk’s. “A man of your status has servants to tend his every whim.”

His demeanor saddened. “It is not the same as a woman’s caring touch.”

I regretted my careless words. As of this afternoon, I knew he’d never had a mother. Could this be why he’d sought solace in so many women’s arms and beds? Seeking the love of a mother he’d never had? On some level, I could empathize with his emptiness, after losing my own.

My fingers curled around his hand. “I intend to see that you eat two slices of cake to make up for your missed meal.”

His stunning smile flashed then faded to an intense study of my own mouth. Several seconds flitted by. My lips
felt
the attention, as if he traced them with his fingertip instead of his eyes.

The moment shattered as the viscount’s attention shifted to the door. Three men stepped in carrying instruments: two violins, one flute. My host stood and said something unreadable to everyone. All of the guests clapped, the silent applause mocking my deafness in the same as wind mocks the most capable vision.

The instrumentalists set up to play in the corner where the ladies sat. Lord Thornton turned back to me and held out a palm.

“Might I introduce you to my guests, Miss Emerline? Then perhaps you might honor me with a quadrille. These men are from the orchestra I’ve hired. As the others have yet to arrive, I thought we might grant the trio a rehearsal.”

A handful of servants moved the furniture, opening up the floor for dancing. Four of the married couples whisked into place and formed a square.

The musicians warmed up their instruments—though it was all lost on me.

“I-I have not danced in years, my lord.”

Lord Thornton didn’t withdraw his hand. “Then tonight, we practice.”

“I don’t wish to.”

“Why ever not?”

“It is a quadrille. I cannot hear the calls, so I wouldn’t know which position to take.”

“So we forfeit the quadrille and dance a waltz instead. Thus there are no promptings from the orchestra to hear.”

I winced. “Ever since I’ve lost my hearing, I’ve been … inept at rhythm.”

The viscount’s fingers curled and opened alternately, beckoning me. “Follow my lead. I shall provide the rhythm.”

Something in that suggestion brought my pulse to race. I used to dance with Papa and Uncle as a tiny child. Standing on their toes as we floated to the music. But to be in this man’s sturdy arms, held close enough to vanish inside his scent and warmth—it would be a sensual awakening. One of which Hawk would not approve. I searched for my ghost and found him still preoccupied with Lord Larson across the room.

“I would be awkward and graceless,” I said to the viscount.

Lord Thornton dropped his hand. Behind him, the dancers drifted across the floor—a rainbow of muted laughter and adroitness. How I coveted all of the things they took for granted. How I wanted to glide on a river of music. So much, my ears and limbs itched with envy.

My host studied me. “Graceless? Can you imagine how graceful I am, with a bum foot and a cane to boot?” His expression gentled to a smile, and I knew in that moment we would be perfect dancing partners.

Still, I couldn’t get past my fear of being the object of ridicule. I shook my head.

“You are to attend the galas with me, Miss Emerline. To this we agreed.”

“Attend, yes. I never said I would dance, my lord.”

Pinned by his frown, I squirmed in my seat. The resulting scrape of petticoats against my legs reminded me of my rumpled appearance. “I am inadequately dressed to even greet your visitors, much less to attempt dancing among them.” I bent to gather my basket and hat.

The viscount cupped my elbow and helped me stand.

Hawk, having lost Lord Larson to his wife, appeared at his brother’s side. I sensed by the anxious turn to his brow that he had something to report.

“Your lordship,” I pleaded. “If you could retrieve Enya, I should like to retire for the night.”

The viscount released my elbow and nodded. “As you wish. I’ll find a servant to escort you and your lady’s maid up the stairs. We wouldn’t want her hurting her ankle again.” A perceptive glint pierced his gray eyes.

Of course he’d seen through my and Enya’s scheme. His perceptiveness never ceased to amaze me. Yet he had allowed our ruse to play out to preserve my dignity.

Touched by his graciousness, I smiled. “Remember,” I said, grasping his palm. “Two slices of cake.”

Lifting my hand, he kissed it. “And you remember … we shall have our dance. You’ll find I don’t give up so easily. Neither should you.”

“You are far too stubborn for your own good.” Enya stepped into my chambers from the hallway, holding a wriggling broadcloth bag. A spread of tiny claws punctured the weave.

“Did anyone see you?” Nervous, I stroked my princess panel dress to feel my locket’s chain beneath—the black crape slick against my fingers.

Enya shook her head and shut the door.

“And did it give you any trouble?” I asked.

She held up one of her cotton sleeves to display the shredded cuffs, her face as pink as the early morning sun which splayed through the salmon tinted glass from the other side of the room.

Opening a linen napkin from breakfast, I took out a large slice of ham. Its salted aroma hung on the air as I smiled. “I shall see that you get a new dress. I’m glad you took my advice and wore gloves.”

As she settled the moving bag on the bed, Enya glared at me. “Taking your advice …” She loosened the tie and the bag fell open, revealing our befuddled hostage’s head. “Is sure to cost me more than a dress. I’m going to change before we enact the next phase of your ludicrous scheme.”

Enya retreated into her room.

A fluffed out tabby cat, little more than a kitten, scrambled out of the bag and off the bed to vanish underneath.

I dropped to my knees and lifted the bedcover. Two glassy eyes reflected back at me from the darkness.

“She’s hissing at you.” Hawk’s voice stirred in my ears.

“Rather obvious. Even to a deaf girl.”

“Shall I rush her out?’

I glanced over my shoulder where he stood. “I wish to befriend her, not mortify her. You stay by the Secretaire and protect your flower in the chance she runs rampant.” The blossom perked happily in its new pot. I didn’t want anything to upset the balance.

Tearing off a bit of the ham, I tossed it toward my bristled captive beneath the bed. She inched from the shadows to sniff the meat, then her pink tongue lapped at the peace offering.

I formed a trail of ham, scooting several feet from the bed, keeping the biggest piece of meat in my hand. “She’ll be out shortly for the rest.”

Hawk leaned against the Secretaire, grinning. “Simple as that, you think?”

I smoothed my dress so it shimmered around me like a puddle of ink. “I have a way with animals.”

My ghost’s smile broadened as he swung his pocket watch in his hand. “Too bad the envelope was no longer in the humidor this morn. Would’ve been much easier to filch the deed from the dining hall. You’re sure this distraction tactic will work?”

“Enya said all of the servants have been instructed to chase out any cat they find in the house this morn since it’s cleaning day. And as the viscount is preoccupied with his investors, the maids will be tidying his bedchambers now. His door will be unlocked, making it the perfect opportunity. But we must be swift … I have one hour before I’m to meet Uncle in our boutique.”

“You think Enya will keep your secret?”

“I gave her no details to why I’m going inside the viscount’s room. She prefers it that way.” I pointed to the bed where the kitten’s head poked out from the bedcovers. A quiver shook her whiskers as she licked her lips. My gaze slid up to Hawk. “The question is, are you sure of what you heard last night?”

“I listened to Larson’s words myself.”

“But you said he was mumbling beneath his breath.” I furrowed my brows. “For me to sneak into the viscount’s room and try to find where he hides his legal papers … you must be sure beyond a doubt.” The kitten tumbled out from her hiding spot and stood rooted in place, staring at me with round eyes and a twitching tail.

Hawk watched the cat with an amused grin. “I practically stood on the investor’s toes. I heard every muttered word; saw what he wrote on the paper. Each time he passed a possession, he calculated its value. Said he didn’t give a fig what the other investors expected to make, his intake would be eighty percent or he’d parlay all of Nicolas’s equity. It would appear he still harbors a grudge toward my brother for winning their card game; and he seems to think he has a chance to gain everything back.”

“It would
appear
you care about your brother and wish to help him more than you let on.” I clicked my tongue at the kitten, dangling the ham in an effort to coax her closer. Her yellow eyes widened and her mouth opened on a silent mew, baring needle-like teeth.

Hawk snorted from beside the flower. “I simply want to study that deed for myself. See if my brother has a foot to stand on … other than the twisted excuse of one he’s always using as a link to your sympathies.”

My shoulders stiffened. “Hawk. That is a beastly accusation. He understands what it’s like to be different. He empathizes in a way few others could.” Before I could tear my focus from Hawk’s annoyed frown, I felt movement along my skirts and then a tug on the ham in my hand where my furry captive’s tiny teeth gnawed at the meat. I stroked her lush fur with my free hand as she ate. A roll of vibrations greeted me beneath her ribcage.

Wearing a smug grin, I met Hawk’s gaze. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“You see?” I laughed. “I do have a way with the beasts. Even you can’t resist me.”

“As if there was ever any doubt.” His eyes smoldered with a sensual light that, had he been flesh, would surely have led to a fiery kiss.