Chapter Twenty-Six
B ecause of her bold request, Brilliance had put herself on tenterhooks for the duration of the play. Would he kiss her during the play, in the back of their darkened theater box? No . Perhaps in the carriage on the way home with Belinda pretending to sleep in the corner? No .
Finally, they reached her house on Piccadilly.
“The play was good fun,” she said as Vincent walked her to the door. “Even better for your answers to my questions.” She’d hardly been confused at all as the characters changed costumes and went from male to female and back again.
“I am glad you enjoyed it.” Vincent had barely spoken in the carriage. In truth, Brilliance wasn’t sure what he was thinking.
“Belinda, you may go in. I shall join you in a minute,” she told her maid.
As the door closed at her back, she looked up at him, silhouetted by the light of the newly installed gas lamps. “I was hoping ...”
Vincent pressed her back against the solid door and fitted his mouth to hers. At the same time, the front of him crushed the front of her. It was heaven!
She reached up and grabbed hold of him, knowing it could only last a second or two. Or five. Seven long, perfect, heart- pounding seconds later, he bit down gently on her lower lip, tugging it as he pulled away.
“Mm,” she said. “I missed that.”
“I missed you. And your taste. And your softness. Luckily, I know for a fact no one can see us from inside the house when we are against the door. Your reputation is safe.”
Knowing her parents hoped they would marry, she hadn’t even worried about that.
“Thank you for your consideration over my reputation,” she said. And if that was the case, then why not kiss again. She reached for him, but he hesitated.
“I hate to test fate.”
She laughed. “That’s exactly what I wish to do. By the way, are you my suitor again?”
“I have been a mulish arse. If you’ll have me, then yes, I would very much like to court you again.”
The door opened behind her, and she nearly fell on her rear end. Luckily, her father caught and steadied her.
“Good evening, Bri, Lord Hewitt. How was the play?” he asked.
“It was splendid. Even better, Lord Hewitt is now my beau.”
She noticed Vincent took another step back, which made her chuckle. Her father was the least hostile man she knew. On the other hand, now that she thought about it, the Earl Diamond was ready to protect his family, particularly his daughters, from any and all threats. She simply had to remind him that Vincent was not a threat.
“We saw Mr. and Mrs. Castern at the theater,” she told him.
“Your daughter stood up and told the entire audience that Castern is a fraud.”
“That’s my girl,” Lord Diamond said. “I’ll see you inside in a minute. Nice to see you again, Hewitt. We’ll discuss the terms of the nuptials soon.”
Then he disappeared back inside before Brilliance could even remark upon his hastiness. But when she looked up at Vincent, to her surprise, he didn’t seem overly concerned at being rushed into a marriage agreement by an earl.
All but given permission from her father, she crooked her gloved finger, and Vincent stepped close again. Brilliance wrapped her hands behind his neck and held on when he kissed her a second time.
As his hands roamed across her body, she shivered.
“You’re cold. What an idiot I am. The nights are growing frosty.”
“That’s not why I’m shivering. In fact, I’m perfectly warm in your embrace.”
“Your father only gave us a minute.”
“We’ve wasted half of it. Kiss me,” she ordered.
And he did, a perfect, slow, toe-curling kiss that probably lasted longer than a minute. Brilliance’s breasts were aching halfway through, wishing he could touch them, feeling that if he would only caress her nipple, that she would be in ecstasy.
And then it was over, leaving her light-headed with her body in a state of frustration and a persistent throbbing between her legs.
She hoped soon he would ask her to marry him as her father suggested.
“Good night, Lord Hewitt.”
“Good night, Lady Brilliance.”
And she went inside.
Brilliance spent the following morning writing letters, not only to the Duke of Monmouth, but to other noblemen who were friends of her family. It occurred to her that with court trials taking an exceedingly long time even to begin, that she could assist Vincent in spreading the word of Ambrose Castern’s nefarious actions.
Then, expecting a visit from Vincent or at least his calling card being dropped off, when Mr. Dunley presented a card on his salver, she turned it over ... and gasped.
“Is he here?”
“Yes, my lady, awaiting an audience.”
“Is my father home?”
“No, my lady.”
“My mother?”
“Again, no.”
Brilliance hesitated. “Please send in Mr. Castern and Belinda, if you would be so kind.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Brilliance began wringing her hands with nervousness but managed to stop herself by putting them behind her back. Her fingers met over the top of her bell-shaped skirts.
Mr. Dunley returned, and with a flourish of his hand, he presented Mr. Castern, who was holding his hat in his hand. He bowed deferentially as soon as he saw her.
“Good day, Mr. Castern.” Brilliance had already decided to be civil, but she would not offer him tea.
“Good day, my lady.” He looked around at his surroundings with interest. “My, my, what a home you have.”
“Thank you.” She waited. Mr. Castern sighed, and a most put-upon expression came over his boyish face. Yet for a long moment, he still said nothing more.
“Will you sit?” she asked, still wondering how one treated a man in one’s home who was neither a suitor nor even invited.
“How kind of you,” he said. “And I would love a cup of tea, dear lady. I’m quite parched.”
Dear lady! Hm . She glanced at Mr. Dunley who had awaited her next request. “Please bring in the tea service.”
“Yes, my lady. Belinda will be in momentarily,” he added. Then the loyal Diamond butler sent a sharp glance toward her unexpected visitor before departing while leaving the drawing-room door open.
“I cannot imagine living your existence,” Mr. Castern said.
“Really?” Brilliance wondered. “Which part of it and why?” Intrigued, she took her favorite seat.
Surprisingly, he sat at the opposite end of the same sofa, so she had to turn to converse with him.
“My lady, I only mean it must be a different world when you are born to such wealth and luxury. You know only comfort, warmth, and a full stomach. Without a care.”
“Whereas you are implying that you haven’t known any of that, sir?”
“I didn’t whilst growing up. I do now, of course. Regardless of what anyone has told you,” he said, then paused meaningfully before continuing, “I have had to struggle and work hard all my life. Now, due to my musical talent, I have earned a comfortable home, and abundance of food, and —”
Belinda came in, and Brilliance, confounded by Mr. Castern’s tale, waved her toward the other end of the room.
“Go on,” she urged him.
“In short, I am not a monster,” Ambrose Castern said emphatically. “I am a hard-working pianist who does not deserve this persistent harassment and cruel defamation.”
“Defamation?” she mused. “You may not be a monster, sir, and I never said you were, but you are a plagiarist, are you not?”
He shook his head, looking disappointed. “Lady Brilliance, I know you have been influenced by Lord Hewitt, my long-time acquaintance. We were very close at one time.”
“Before you stole his music.”
Just then, when he looked as though he might become annoyed, a footman came in with the tea service.
“I shall pour,” she told him and sent him away. After she’d handed Mr. Castern a full cup and saucer, she said, “You could hardly expect to remain close after what you did.”
“My lady, we were as brothers. We worked alongside one another when in the dormitories of Harrow. And we attended Trinity together. After graduation, when he could spare the time from Parliament, at his townhouse here in London and even at his home in Joyden’s Wood, we continued to share a passion for music.”
He sipped the tea and added, “We never went to my mean, little house, for Hewitt lives like you, with all the ease of a titled, wealthy nobleman. If you can imagine the two of us humming, writing down notes, taking turns at the piano ...” He shrugged. “I don’t believe we knew in the end who wrote what or where my composition began and his ended.”
“I see. You decided to take the music, since you were in the room when he’d composed it.”
His eyebrows rose. “Not at all. Who is to say who composed which piece of music?”
“Surely, you and he are to say,” Brilliance suggested.
Mr. Castern shook his head. “It’s not that simple. We work differently. He keeps music in his head for far longer, whereas I write mine as I am composing. Ultimately, there is no way for you to know whether the notes on the sheets of paper were mine or his. But I tell you, they are mine.”
“Are you saying Lord Hewitt transcribed your music, and thus, in fact, he plagiarized from you?”
“I ask you only to consider the possibility. Simply because I went forward with a career as a concert pianist and he did not, that is no reason to condemn me.”
He calmly sipped his tea.
“I saw the handwritten work in his home recently,” Brilliance told him, “and I gave it to a music publisher in London. And then suddenly, you were playing at your concert. There can be no doubt that you —”
“My lady, I wrote that piece years ago. When I recently discovered it in the music shop, I could only imagine that Hewitt had published it without the courtesy of using my name but also without the duplicity to use his own. And thus, overjoyed to find my own music, a piece I had forgotten about, I began to play it.”
She stared at him, considering what he said. Mr. Castern leaned toward her from his end of the sofa.
“Do you not see how it makes sense? Why would I risk my thriving career?”
Brilliance shook her head. “Why would you?”
“Please, my lady, I have a wife to support, and I do so only by my concerts. If you continue this public attack, we shall lose everything. Neither she nor I have the security of coming from a wealthy family as you and Hewitt. My music is all I have, and you are trying to help Hewitt take it from me.”
“I am trying to help Lord Hewitt regain his music.”
Mr. Castern set his saucer down and rose to his feet. “It is mine I tell you,” he declared, waving his arms around. Although he didn’t come any closer, Brilliance shrank back, gripping her teacup.
“Why are you helping him?” he asked. “Are you in love with him?”
“I think you had better leave.” She could not credit her own ears — a stranger was asking her such an impertinent question!
“You were in his home, you say, when you discovered the music. A nice young lady isn’t usually in a gentleman’s home. Perhaps you are actually paramours. Perhaps you have made up this entire story in order to help Vincent gain his revenge regarding Lydia.”
“I asked you to leave,” Brilliance repeated, raising her voice as she rose to her feet. She had no idea about Lydia, nor revenge, but it sounded like the ravings of a madman.
Mr. Dunley appeared and closely on his heels was Lord Hewitt.
“I heard the lady say she wanted you to leave,” Vincent ground out. “You will do as she says, and swiftly, before I throw you out into the Piccadilly traffic.”
“Look at you, Hewitt, behaving as if you own the place, as if you are her protector. It is quite obvious to everyone in London you are her lover.”
“How dare you disparage this lady!” Vincent strode into the room until he was toe-to-toe with Mr. Castern.
Brilliance felt her cheeks warm. Belinda had come closer to offer support, and their absolutely proper and polite Mr. Dunley had heard the ugly accusation. Why, she could not imagine their butler ever taking his clothes off even to sleep. She was sure nothing like this had ever happened in her parents’ drawing room before.
“This is your last chance to leave on your own two feet,” Vincent threatened.
Mr. Castern sneered. “It seems your ladylove is determined to bestow upon you my fame. I warn you, Hewitt, if anyone asks me about your lady’s accusations, I shall recommend they consider the source.” He looked Brilliance up and down. “And her objectivity in the matter, or lack thereof. Lovers do not make for honest court witnesses.”
“Don’t they?” Brilliance asked, wondering why that might be so.
At the same time, Vincent grabbed Mr. Castern by the shoulder and, with the man trying and failing to break free, dragged him from the room.
She heard more shouting and then the front door slammed. A moment later, while tugging his sleeves down, Vincent reentered.
“Mr. Dunley would have removed him, my lord, and saved you the trouble.”
“Indeed,” said the butler. “It is my duty.” Then he sighed as if deprived of some amusement. “Do you need me further, my lady?”
“You may take Mr. Castern’s cup and saucer and bring a clean one for Mr. Hewitt.”
“That won’t be necessary, Dunley. I cannot stay for tea.”
With the butler departed and Belinda back in her spot at the room’s far end, Brilliance took her seat, expecting Vincent to sit beside her. Instead, he paced.
“You promised me you wouldn’t meet with him.”
“I did, didn’t I?” she mused, but the odd circumstance of having Mr. Castern show up had proven too intriguing. “However, neither of my parents were home.”
At Vincent’s glowering look, she added, “But I had Belinda and Mr. Dunley. I was hardly alone.”
Her betrothed swore, seemingly to himself, while looking at the ceiling, down at the floor, then finally at her. And then he took a seat.
“Castern might have threatened you.”
“I believe he did, but what of it?” she asked. “As you can see, I am unharmed.”
“And you shall remain that way. I don’t want your name tarnished by his accusations, nor can I risk your safety.”
“What are you saying?”
“I do not want you speaking out against him again,” Vincent said.
She thought of the letters she had already sent out.
“And I think it unwise to have you come to court,” he continued.
“But then it will be your word against his. Because he is already considered a great composer, you will undoubtedly lose.”
He shrugged. “Your safety and good name are worth more than any piece of music.”
“What if we were to become engaged so he couldn’t suggest —”
She broke off when he started shaking his head.
“That would only make it worse. We would appear to be lovers before marriage. He will make sure his lawyer asks where you were in my home and who was with us.”
“Oh!” Brilliance didn’t think her parents would be too pleased about that. “Then what is the next step?”
“We must not see each other for a while, and you must stop accusing him of plagiarism at every turn.”
“Are you giving in and letting Mr. Castern win?” she asked softly, feeling ill in the pit of her stomach. He could not possibly love her if he was willing to give her up so easily.
“I will go to court with a clerk from Boosey & Co. as my witness. Perhaps that will be enough.”
She was almost afraid to ask. “And what about us?”