Courtesan's Kiss (35 page)

“Y
OU SEEM MUCH HAPPIER,
Mia.” Janina fixed a flower in Mia’s hair and then stood back to admire her handiwork. “I am so glad that it went well with Elena and you two are on happy terms again.”

“Yes, and I found a pianoforte which is in excellent tune.”

“Good,” Nina said perfunctorily. “So now you are hoping Lord David will propose and make everything perfect?”

“No! What would be perfect about that? I do not want to marry without love, and he will never say the words.”

“Who won’t? That short man, the viscount? What does he know?”

Mia clenched her teeth and did not correct Nina’s
misunderstanding. She’d said too much already. “Are you sure this dress isn’t too much for a family dinner?”

“You look beautiful in it. The varied color in the ruffles is very flattering. Pink always makes your face glow.”

Mia stopped for a bit of perfume, a dark spicy scent that reminded her of a late-night rendezvous. She picked up her book in case she had to wait and, with the help of a footman, found her way to the room where the family gathered before dinner.

The room was empty with no fire, but Mia poured herself some sherry and sat to wait for the others. It would most likely be a small group. Perhaps Olivia and Michael would join the duke, David, and her. That would be perfect. After dinner they could all go to Elena’s room for coffee.

She took a sip of the sherry and stood when she heard someone come to the door. The majordomo, Winthrop, came into the room, looking pained and unpleasant. Did the man ever smile?

“Miss Castellano, did no one tell you that there is no formal family dinner this evening?”

Mia put her sherry glass down very, very carefully. “Is that so, Winthrop?”

“Lord David has gone to the Garretts’,” Winthrop said, apparently reading a question in her civil reply. “And His Grace will have a private dinner with Her Grace. The housekeeper arranged for a tray to be sent to your room.”

“Very good.” Mia nodded, pretending not to be completely mortified. Winthrop waited a moment, then bowed and left the room.

Draining the sherry in one sustaining gulp, Mia stared at the picture over the fireplace.

She had so wanted to see David tonight. To see if she could learn more about the cotton mill from him or from the conversation. If she understood enough, she would have taken part and showed that she did care about what was important to him.

Mia looked at the glass she held, squeezed it tight, then threw it hard into the fireplace. It shattered, and she sank into the nearest chair.

Maybe it was childish of her to throw things when she knew how busy and upset the household was by the duchess’s approaching confinement. It wasn’t even very satisfying and it certainly did not accomplish anything. What she would do is find the music room and play all the Beethoven she could recall. His music was most satisfying when she was unhappy.

Summoning what dignity she could muster, Mia left the room. She refused to further discover how little she belonged in this house by asking the footman on duty for directions. She had been to the music room once and could surely find her way on her own. Mia began to walk purposefully down the corridor.

D
AVID CAME BACK UP
to the castle even less aware of his surroundings than he had been on the way down. The wine and food had been followed by a port that a friend of Garrett’s had sent from Europe. Olivia had gone up to say good night to their son, a convenient excuse to disappear
for the rest of the evening. That left David free to discuss his hopes of the Meryon estate financing for his cotton mill.

Between the two of them, they had finished off the bottle before Garrett was satisfied that David’s presentation was as sound as it could be.

Garrett had not brought up David and Mia’s relationship again. The man’s ability to drop a subject was the only thing that made him tolerable. That and his willingness to meet David in the boxing ring. Tomorrow, he had agreed, and was looking forward to watching David’s match with Romero.

The boxing matches would be no more than a temporary distraction. Garrett might not have mentioned Mia again, but David was still all too aware that his future with Mia Castellano was not settled.

Garrett’s insistence that David had as much right to happiness as anyone had not left his head all evening.

He was so sure he had done with even thinking about happiness. In Mexicado, the cost of caring had taught him to hide his sensibilities carefully, to forsake any hope of happiness for the greater good. He was not going to risk his heart or people’s lives. But he had risked love again when he came home to the circle of his family.

As much as Lyn could annoy him as duke, there was a love for his brother that was at the core of his being. The same was true for Gabriel, who lived so far away that they only saw him once or twice a year. Distance did not lessen the affection. Even Jess, lost to them these last four years, had a place in his heart. And Olivia was loveable by her very being.

He pulled the half-smoked cigarillo from his pocket and lit it again.

If he admitted that he loved, then Garrett would argue a fulfilling life and happiness should follow. The cotton mill would bring him fulfillment. He had no doubt of that. But he had no idea what would make him happy.

It seemed such a selfish way to judge an action. David decided he would be happy if the mill project was a little easier to bring into being.

If happiness and ease went hand in hand, then his life would be easier if Mia was not increasing, infinitely easier if they did not have to marry.

If he never saw her again. Oh yes, life would be much easier, but not nearly as entertaining. Or “fun,” as Mia would call it. If she were with him now she would be dancing along beside him, for she never did anything as simple as walk. She would be teasing him, more like tempting him, because they were alone in the dark. Even this prosaic walk back to the castle would be more fun than it was. And once they were back she would insist he come turn the pages while she played the pianoforte, when he should spend a few more minutes reading the papers brought up from London to see what changes were afoot.

So if he allowed Mia to distract him with fun, then he would ignore his true responsibilities.

Did God mean for him to be happy at the expense of those responsibilities? Now, there was a question he would wager Garrett did not have a pat answer for.

David went in the side door where the night porter
greeted him with a message. “Miss Castellano’s maid is waiting to speak to you.”

Damn times five merry milkmaids. What could be wrong? David was not often in the guest wing and had to ask one of the footmen which suite was Mia’s. He tapped at the door.

Janina opened it in a flash and began to cry.

“My God, what is it, Janina?”

“You have been so kind to me, my lord. Please, please do not fail me now.”

“Of course, of course.” He grabbed her hands. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Mia is gone! I cannot find her. She did not eat her dinner. It was here on a tray and cold as death. I had them take it away but it sat here forever, I am sure.” Janina pulled her hands from his and waved them in the direction of the table, empty now. “Mia went down to dinner, looking so beautiful with flowers in her hair, and she never came back.”

“She went to dinner? No one told you that there was no formal dinner?”

“No one told me, so no one told her. But someone must have. They did bring her a tray, but she has not been back.”

“How do you know?”

“She always leaves things on the chair or the bed or the floor. Of all people, you must notice the things she leaves behind when she has been in a room.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what Janina meant by that, but it was true that he had found her shoes in his room, and
her hairpins in a cup after their first night together. “Have you told anyone?”

“No, my lord. I have only been here myself for a few minutes. I sent the footman to ask for you to come to me thinking that you and Mia might be together.”

He shook his head. “I’m sure she is not missing. This is a big place. She is just having an adventure. That is what Mia would say even if she were truly lost.”

“I hate adventures,” Janina said, and for the first time David could hear Mia in this sister’s voice. “Please, my lord, I will wait here. You go look for her. If she is lost she will be very embarrassed if many are looking for her, and she will not want to upset the duke and duchess. If she has run away it is best if no one knows. And if she was kidnapped and is being held for ransom …” Janina’s voice trailed off and tears took the place of words.

“She has not been kidnapped.” Olivia had been kidnapped once; to have that happen again was patently impossible. He would not even allow the idea into his head.

“All right,” Janina said, as though he had a shortcut to God and knew it for a fact.

“I will go look in the most likely places and be back in an hour. Or less.”

“Yes, you go look for her and I will do what I do best.”

She was going to cry for an hour? Or maybe she meant pray. David left the room without asking.

He started with the Oriental Room; it was the logical place since it was where the footman would have directed her before dinner. He found nothing out of place, but the
servants would have cleaned already and gathered anything left behind.

He saw a book on the table and went over to it. Books were one thing the servants knew not to move. It was the Jane Austen novel Mia had been reading,
Northanger Abbey
.

David left the room with the book in hand, turned right, and began to walk slowly, as though he could feel his way by a sense of her presence.

When he’d gone down one hall, he realized what he sensed. Music. She had found the pianoforte and he needed no more than to listen to her play to know her mood.

Following the music, he did not have to be much closer to know that she was lonely. He did not recognize the composer any more than she would recognize his architect’s name, but if he were to draw a picture of the music he heard, it would be of a woman, lost, lonely, sad, and as beautiful as the notes she played.

He stood just outside the music room in the dimly lit passage and waited to see if she would continue playing when she finished the first piece. She did, and this melody was some hymn whose title he could not recall. He could hear her singing but could not distinguish the words, for as the song progressed she played with greater force until he wondered if the instrument could stand the insult.

Pushing open the door, he went into the room, which had only one brace of candles lit. Mia looked up and stopped singing. Looking down at the keys, she finished the hymn with a sonorous crash of chords.

The echo evolved into complete silence. He walked over to the bench and sat on the edge of it, beside her. It was not made for two and their shoulders touched.

“I’m sorry, I was playing too loud.” She moved a little so they were no longer touching, but he could still smell her perfume. The one that reminded him of incense and spicy flowers and the way her hair looked against her skin.

He started to speak and found he had to clear his throat before words would come out. “No one sleeps on this side of the house. We use it as a shortcut to the bedchambers on the east side, but it is late enough that I do believe everyone is abed.”

Mia nodded and played a few random notes, her long, supple fingers a contrast to the flat rigid ivory of the keys.

“Janina thought you lost and asked me to find you.”

Mia stopped fingering the keys. “
Dio mio
, she could have asked one of the footmen.”

“She did seem genuinely upset, though now that I think about it, what did she think had happened to you?” Was the girl playing matchmaker?

“She worries about every little adventure I have. Exploring the castle without a guide would make her nervous.” Mia began to gather the music. “How was dinner at the Garretts’?”

“Very nice.” He moved a little closer to her again, amused at her effort
not
to touch him. “I’m sorry that I didn’t invite you to come, too.” Taking her with him would not have been so awful. No wonder she thought
she never fit in. Add to that arriving at dinner to find no one there. What a miserable first evening at Pennford.

“Well, I am with you now.” She stood up. “David.” She waited until she had his complete attention. “I wanted very much to see you this evening to tell you how sorry I am if anything we did at Sandleton will endanger the cotton mill project.”

“It shouldn’t, as long as we tell no one.” He tried for a practical answer, when the mention of Sandleton filled his head with anything but sensible thoughts.

“Elena tried to explain to me how important it is to you. I wish I had understood that. I wish
you
had explained it to me.”

“It wasn’t enough that I spend every available hour studying and writing letters?”

“I thought it was no more than an excuse to avoid me.”

“Mia—” he began, then stopped himself. He could hardly take her to task for thinking that when there was some truth to it.

“Admit it, David, you
may have
been working, but you were also doing your best to avoid me. Just as you did tonight.” She seemed just then to notice how dark it was. “What time is it?”

“Sometime after midnight, I think.”

“Oh dear, that’s too late for us to be alone like this.”

“Where is your longing for adventure?”

“I found out today that my adventure at Sandleton could well threaten a project very important to you.” She spoke as if that was not clear to him. “I will not be blamed
for that. Just because I long to be an independent woman does not mean that I will think only about what I want and what I need.”

David moved to stand and the book fell to the floor.

“What was that?”

“You left your book in the Oriental Room.”

Mia sank to her knees in front of him to retrieve it, brushing against his legs. Even that innocent touch sent sparks through him. He tried to ignore them, to ignore the possibilities of this situation, to ignore just how alone they were.