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Authors: Moriah Denslea
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the curls that fell over Madeline’s face. “It’s four-dice , Fordyce’s sermons? The preferred instrument of torture here.”
“Have you come to take us away, Philip?” Elise smoothed the tassels on his shoulder, Mary laid her head on his other shoulder, and Madeline burrowed her face in his chest. Sophia wondered if he liked all the attention or was on the verge of suffocation. No, she was a little jealous, in truth. All this filial felicity was making her melancholy.
“No, my lovelies. You are better off here with Uncle Wil. Behave then, will you all?”
Sophia held her breath as Lord Devon passed. Did he deliberately brush his chest across her shoulder, or was it such a tight fit through a crowd of one?
Lt. Cavendish glanced up and shouted, “Wil!” Lord Devon answered, “Phil!” and the two men embraced like long lost friends — not the starchy three-pat affair most men used. Oh no .
She remembered Mrs. Abbott had confided that Lord Devon entailed his title and estate to Philip Cavendish, his not-quite-nephew. Not his lover?
The crowd went to the music room, and she couldn’t get away. She watched Wilhelm and Philip sharing the piano bench to play a duet, two very pretty specimens of male beauty obviously quite fond of each other, and she warred with both disgust and jealousy.
By popular demand Lord Devon took the piano bench. Sophia recognized the Mozart Divertimento, a short piece with busy three-part counterpoint. His nieces cheered when he flipped the page and played the music upside down — inverted. He rotated the page and played it backward, from end to beginning. His fingers danced over the keys without the slightest hesitation, his head nodding with the jaunty tempo.
Incredible.
The incomparable Lord Devon proved to be all his reputation lauded — far superior to her own talent, which rubbed her the wrong way. Sophia was accustomed to being the finale, to having her unmatched intellect and musical prowess to hide behind. Today she had been clearly outshined. Compelled to watch him, she could not draw her eyes away from his strong, agile hands, his expression set in concentration, and his broad, powerful shoulders flexing as he played.
He finished to cheering, but raised his head and looked directly at her, perhaps for validation. The weight of his gaze raised gooseflesh on her arms and sparked a fire low in her gut. She had liked him better when he was a fat old man in a portrait. She simply could not allow him such power over her. Blessedly, moments later Madeline climbed onto the bench and burrowed under his arm, breaking the spell.
When Martin came to announce dinner, she exited the music room last and was about to retreat upstairs when Philip called, “Join us for dinner, won’t you Miss Rosalie?”
“Of course she will.” Lord Devon offered his arm the same moment Philip offered his on her other side. Sophia shot Lord Devon a severe look, and returning an overly polite smile, he deferred to Philip. She fell into step behind Lord Devon and spent the long walk to the dining room trying not to admire his athletic gait or the provoking fit of his trousers.
Nun! I am a nun! Sophia chanted silently as she tried to listen to Philip’s chatting.
Elise and Mary wanted to hear all about Philip’s adventures in the Navy, and Philip was eager to tell them. His ship had run supplies to troops in Bhutan until a few months ago when they returned to patrolling the Baltic. Only Sophia noticed Lord Devon’s marked silence as Philip told of his adventures at sea and a glorious victory over a band of pirates they encountered off the coast of India.
The mention of her name made her realize she had not been paying attention. Philip looked earnestly at her, and he prompted, “Would you not say so, Miss Rosalie?”
She had to admit, “I fear you have caught me daydreaming. What was that?”
“I was just saying that my sisters are quite grown, especially Madeline. You have done a marvelous
“Have you come to take us away, Philip?” Elise smoothed the tassels on his shoulder, Mary laid her head on his other shoulder, and Madeline burrowed her face in his chest. Sophia wondered if he liked all the attention or was on the verge of suffocation. No, she was a little jealous, in truth. All this filial felicity was making her melancholy.
“No, my lovelies. You are better off here with Uncle Wil. Behave then, will you all?”
Sophia held her breath as Lord Devon passed. Did he deliberately brush his chest across her shoulder, or was it such a tight fit through a crowd of one?
Lt. Cavendish glanced up and shouted, “Wil!” Lord Devon answered, “Phil!” and the two men embraced like long lost friends — not the starchy three-pat affair most men used. Oh no .
She remembered Mrs. Abbott had confided that Lord Devon entailed his title and estate to Philip Cavendish, his not-quite-nephew. Not his lover?
The crowd went to the music room, and she couldn’t get away. She watched Wilhelm and Philip sharing the piano bench to play a duet, two very pretty specimens of male beauty obviously quite fond of each other, and she warred with both disgust and jealousy.
By popular demand Lord Devon took the piano bench. Sophia recognized the Mozart Divertimento, a short piece with busy three-part counterpoint. His nieces cheered when he flipped the page and played the music upside down — inverted. He rotated the page and played it backward, from end to beginning. His fingers danced over the keys without the slightest hesitation, his head nodding with the jaunty tempo.
Incredible.
The incomparable Lord Devon proved to be all his reputation lauded — far superior to her own talent, which rubbed her the wrong way. Sophia was accustomed to being the finale, to having her unmatched intellect and musical prowess to hide behind. Today she had been clearly outshined. Compelled to watch him, she could not draw her eyes away from his strong, agile hands, his expression set in concentration, and his broad, powerful shoulders flexing as he played.
He finished to cheering, but raised his head and looked directly at her, perhaps for validation. The weight of his gaze raised gooseflesh on her arms and sparked a fire low in her gut. She had liked him better when he was a fat old man in a portrait. She simply could not allow him such power over her. Blessedly, moments later Madeline climbed onto the bench and burrowed under his arm, breaking the spell.
When Martin came to announce dinner, she exited the music room last and was about to retreat upstairs when Philip called, “Join us for dinner, won’t you Miss Rosalie?”
“Of course she will.” Lord Devon offered his arm the same moment Philip offered his on her other side. Sophia shot Lord Devon a severe look, and returning an overly polite smile, he deferred to Philip. She fell into step behind Lord Devon and spent the long walk to the dining room trying not to admire his athletic gait or the provoking fit of his trousers.
Nun! I am a nun! Sophia chanted silently as she tried to listen to Philip’s chatting.
Elise and Mary wanted to hear all about Philip’s adventures in the Navy, and Philip was eager to tell them. His ship had run supplies to troops in Bhutan until a few months ago when they returned to patrolling the Baltic. Only Sophia noticed Lord Devon’s marked silence as Philip told of his adventures at sea and a glorious victory over a band of pirates they encountered off the coast of India.
The mention of her name made her realize she had not been paying attention. Philip looked earnestly at her, and he prompted, “Would you not say so, Miss Rosalie?”
She had to admit, “I fear you have caught me daydreaming. What was that?”
“I was just saying that my sisters are quite grown, especially Madeline. You have done a marvelous
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