Page 38 of Finding Harmony (Trade Wind 2)

Chapter Nine

Frederick detected no dislike for him by the Robertsons’ butler and housekeeper—quite the opposite—yet their behavior was noticeably different in the last month.

“Fine instincts,” he said aloud to himself.

Molly, seated on the piano bench, stopped humming and looked up at him. “Pardon?”

“I mean Pulley and Mrs. Taylor. Their instincts are serving them well. It’s the fifth time in an hour that one of them has passed by.”

Looking sheepish, Molly nodded. “Knowing them, they set a schedule in advance.”

He slipped his tuning wrench into its place in his satchel and frowned. “Are you certain that Mrs. Taylor doesn’t know about the texts?”

“I’m certain. Whatever her suspicions, they can’t be specific to the texts. I believe it’s simply evident…”

Frederick smiled at her blush, feeling his own cheeks alight. “From the way we look at each other?”

She nodded. “They know that at first opportunity, we’d…”

“In one week, Molly. One week.”

Distressed, she shook her head. “The proposal is in one week! Then it’sanotherthree weeks while the banns are read!Fourweeks, Frederick!”

“Two things comfort me, Molly. First, that you, too, are experiencing along with me this intense frustration. Second, that after thirty-five years of waiting for you, only four more weeks must be borne.”

Twisting her hands in her lap, she nodded sagely. “I suppose other sorts of people would change the proposal. You could ask me this very moment. No—I don’t wish that. We have a plan. It’s a reliable one. You wanted Christmas to be special, and so it shall be.”

He couldn’t disagree with her. Whatever vehemence had been building these last months, whatever sensual awakening, Frederick had not reconsidered his timeline. As Molly had sensibly pointed out, they had their plan.

“Speaking of plans,” he reminded her, “you’d said you had something you wished to discuss with me about after the wedding?”

Rising from the bench, she stood with her hands fisted by her sides. “Yes. I’ve an idea for how I might spend my days as Mrs. Vogel.”

Her last words had been spoken quietly, but their impact was mighty. Frederick’s chest filled with pride and excitement at the thought of her being his Mrs. Vogel.

Had only Mama lived to see this.Even she, his most dedicated supporter, could not have predicted this fortunate turn of events.

“How will Frau Vogel spend her days, pray tell?”

Despite the surveillance of the servants every so often, as they passed the open door of the music room, Molly dared to close the space between them. She reached for the soft leather flap on his satchel, cradled in his arms, and fingered it.

“Frederick, what if I were to accompany you for your appointments? Served as your assistant of sorts?”

“Oh, I…” Dueling thoughts swirled in his mind.

To be paired with my lovely’s company and not be separated during the day!

To have my work so intruded upon…

Molly’s eyes dropped, along with her hands. “You don’t favor the idea.”

“The work of a piano tuner is solitary, Molly.”

She smoothed her skirts. “Need it be? You’ve oft requested my help—handing you tools, making adjustments to the draperies.”

He shifted restlessly as guilt tugged at him. “Forgive me, please, for my…rakish behavior. Those requests were but ruses for your attention.”

Her eyes shone when she raised them, amusement and affection brightening her face. “Rakes tune pianos and ask unsuspecting maids to hand them tuning forks?”

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