Page 65 of House of Thorns
“Do go, Deborah.” Olivia nodded.
“You are such a gentleman, Lord Blair,” Deborah murmured as they stepped out of the kitchen.
As they vanished into the front of the shop, Florinda rose from her chair.
Doubtless, she’d heard. The shop was small, and they hadn’t taken pains to speak softly, despite the music.
“Do pardon us—” Olivia began.
The opera singer smiled and put a finger to her lips. “Hush. It is an age-old story, is it not? I am the soul of discretion, my dear.”
“Thank you.” Olivia dipped her head, again experiencing a pang of jealousy. So, the woman was not only beautiful, but kind and honorable, too? Why did that bother her so?
“Miss Mackenzie,” Florinda continued, her smile turning a shade rueful. “I know now is most likely not the best of times, but I am already late for a prior engagement. However, before I go, I have made up my mind.”
“Pardon?” Olivia blinked.
“I beg you, draw up your contract and send it to my hotel. Allow me to take the music with me? I must practice, but there is enough time. We have two weeks, do we not? The musicians? Surely, you have hired them?”
The famed Lark of Paris…to sing her father’s songs? Dare she hope?
“My dear, the musicians?” Florinda repeated.
“Yes,” Olivia cleared her throat. “They were well known to my father, his friends. I gave them the music…months ago.”
“Delightful.” Florinda nodded, pleased. “Then allow me to take this music with me, so I can prepare.”
In a daze, Olivia led her back to the print shop. Safe, in the cupboard, she’d stored the concert scores. She’d given one copy already to Louisa, but what did that matter now? Even if the woman appeared?
With growing excitement, but still unable to believe her luck, Olivia picked up theAn Enchanted Summer’s Eveningscore, returned to the singer and held it out.
“Nicholas asked you to sing, didn’t he?” Olivia blurted. She hadn’t known she was going to ask, yet now that she had, she wanted to know.
Florinda’s eyes lit with a smile as she took the music reverently into her hands.
“I owe Nicholas much, my dear,” she murmured with a private smile. “I confess that I did jump at this chance to repay him, but now…now, after hearing your father’s music, I fear I have only indebted myself to him all the more.” She brought the score to her lips and kissed the cover. “Truly, your father is so talented, Olivia, but then...” she paused and looked her straight in the eye, “you know this already.”
Olivia nodded, her throat closing with emotion. Feeling caught in a whirlwind, she could do little but stare and follow, rather like a lost duckling, as Florinda swept through the curtains and into the front of the shop.
“I must leave, Nicholas,” she said as he stepped through the door. “I have so much to practice. The concert is soon. So very soon.” She pushed past him, heading to the carriage waiting outside.
Nicholas grinned at Olivia and lifted a brow. “We need to speak, you and I.”
Sudden shyness took Olivia by surprise. Rattled, she licked her lips and nodded, once.
Then, he strode off down the walkway toward the carriage.
She watched him through the window, allowing her gaze to linger on his broad shoulders, thighs and lean hips far longer than propriety allowed, but Lord help her, how could she resist?
Again, Nicholas had come to her aid. The roof. Her cousin. The opera singer.
Indeed, it seemed he was determined to solve her every problem. If only he could solve the ache in her heart, as well.
