Read Online Silent Melody by Mary Balogh - Free Book Online Page A

he said even as he watched another man step up to her and take her hand in his. William Webb, Lord Severidge, got to his feet.
    â€œWe are expecting an announcement tonight,” Luke said, “of her betrothal. To Powell, the man who is with her now. He has spoken with both Royce and me. She seems enamored of him.”
    â€œDoes she, by Jove?” Ashley had not taken his eyes off her. In full profile she was stunningly beautiful. He still could not believe she was Emmy. Emmy, all grown up, a woman and not a child. “Take me to her.”
    He did not even notice his brother’s reluctance. Or if he did, he did not care about it. He had come here to dance. To dance with the prettiest young lady in the room. And she was the prettiest, by Jove. Emmy. He would dance with her. He had forgotten her deafness.
    She seemed to know he was coming. She stood and turned to watch him come. But Emmy, he remembered with a jolt of recognition, had always seemed to possess that extra sense. She had always seemed to know when he was approaching from behind her. Even though she could not hear. Ah yes, there was that. He recalled it with a shock of memory. Emmy could not hear. Or speak. Or communicate except with her eyes and certain gestures he had grown adept at interpreting. And had they not devised something resembling a language between the two of them? Zounds but he had forgotten so much.
    â€œMy dear,” Luke said, “here is Ashley come home to us.”
    She was Emmy, right enough. Emmy masquerading as a grand lady and doing magnificently at it. But Emmy all the same. There were the eyes, large and expressive, leaving one with the impression that one could look through them straight into her soul. But she was a
woman.
He felt strangely sad.
    â€œEmmy.” He took her hand from her side. It was limp and icy cold. He smiled. “Hello, little fawn.” He had forgotten his old name for her until he heard it coming from his own lips. And how inappropriate it seemed now. She was an elegant, fashionable, beautiful woman. Again he felt that flashing of sadness. The name had used to fit so well.
    Her mouth quirked into the most fleeting of smiles. But she was pale and serious. He brought her hand to his lips.
    â€œTell me you are glad to see me,” he said, almost instinctively speaking to her in the old way, mouthing his words carefully, speaking a little more slowly than he did with other people. “I have come all the way from India. It has been a weary journey. Tell me you are glad.”
    She stared mutely at him and there was nothing in her eyes that he would instinctively have recognized. Ah. She was not glad. Seven years had passed. He wished unreasonably that she of all people and places and things could have remained the same—a wild and lovely and happy child. What a selfish thought!
    â€œMay I present Lord Powell to you, Ash?” Luke was saying. “My brother, Lord Ashley Kendrick, Powell.”
    Ashley made his bow, as did Lord Powell, briskly, the annoyance unconcealed on his face. So this was to be Emmy’s husband? And he was already possessive of her? Even jealous, perhaps? Ashley turned back to Emily with a grin.
    â€œThey tried to put me to bed,” he said. “They tried to tell me I was tired. But I wanted to dance, Emmy. I am determined to do so. I promised to dance with the prettiest lady in the room. She is you. Come and dance with me.” Her hand still lay in his. He covered it with his free hand. “You see? The sets are forming.”
    â€œThis set is mine,” Lord Powell said stiffly. “Lady Emily has agreed to sit with me.”
    â€œBesides, Ash,” Luke said, “Emily cannot dance.”
    â€œBecause she cannot hear?” Ashley grinned at her. “Is it true, Emmy? Does your deafness make it impossible for you to dance? Do you not know the steps? Can you not watch the other dancers? Do you not long to dance?”
    Her eyes