Page 61 of Just a Little Daring

An extremely tall, statuesque woman wearing a severe black gown and with a pearl choker at her throat, came down the stairs, reading aloud from a book of poetry, her voice deep and majestic as she spoke in tragic tones, her free hand making extravagant gestures to underscore the words.

“A timid grace sits trembling in her eye, as loath to meet the rudeness of men’s sight. Yet shedding a delicious lunar light, that steeps in kind oblivious ecstasy the care-crazed mind, like some still melody. Speaking most plain the thoughts which do possess her gentle sprite: peace, and meek quietness, and innocent loves, and maiden purity… Oh, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” August and Vivien said in unison.

The lady smiled serenely, scratched at her unshaven chin, and carried on out to the gardens, declaiming as she went. “A look whereof might heal the cruel smart of changed friends, or fortune’s wrongs unkind—”

The voice faded and Vivien turned to gaze up at August. “Was that—”

“Lord Crenshaw reciting Charles Lamb, yes, it was. Come along,” August said briskly, towing her up the stairs.

“I thought you were going to give me a tour of the house,” she said, hurrying to keep up.

“Certainly I am. I intend to begin with the quietest and most private corner of the house, or at least it had better be,” he added darkly.

Vivien grinned, quite happy with this plan.

“That used to be my bedroom,” August sighed, gesturing to a door on their right at the same moment said door swung open.

To Vivien’s—and likely August’s—profound relief, the occupant had finished conducting his orchestra and was now fully attired, and carrying a small suitcase. “Guten Tag, danke, dass Sie mich haben.”

“Er, you’re welcome,” August offered hesitantly.

The fellow beamed at them, executed a smart bow, and marched away.

“What did he say?” Vivien asked.

August laughed. “Well, dredging up my long-forgotten schoolboy German, I believe he wished us a good day and thanked us for having him.”

“Oh, that’s… opportune,” she said, glancing up at him from under her lashes.

“Isn’t it, though?” August replied with a grin. “Yet one hesitates to consider what a naked conductor might have left behind.”

He pushed open the door and stuck his head in.

Vivien craned her neck, trying to see past him. “Is it as it ought to be?”

“Oh! Yes, it is. Good heavens, I think it’s actually tidier. Do you know, I believe he cleaned it. Come in.”

Vivien did not need asking twice and hurried inside, closing the door behind her. She looked around with interest at shelves stacked with many books and odds and ends. A row of small animal skulls, a stone shaped like a frog, and several tarnished silver cups for sporting events. “So, this is where young August Lane-Fox grew up.”

August shrugged. “Not really. I was rarely here. Mama sent me to school early to get me away from my father who… was not a kind man. I rarely returned, not even during the holidays if I could help it. I’d stay with my friends whenever I could and be wherever they happened to be.”

“I’m so sorry, August,” Viv said, holding her hands out to him.

August shook his head, taking her hands and tugging her close, enclosing her in his arms. “I’m not, at least, not any longer. If not, I’d never have met Bainbridge and Dare and Raphe de Ligne, and I’d not have missed my adventures with them for the world. They’re the brothers I never had.”

“I’m glad you had them, that you weren’t lonely.”

“So am I. I’m even gladder that I have you, though,” he said, tilting her chin up towards him. “I think I ought to warn you, I’m feeling reckless and wicked and, if you stay here, I’m likely to take liberties with your person.”

His eyes glittered and Vivien’s heart gave a little leap in her chest.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said, and tugged his head down for a kiss.

Chapter 19

Mr Cootes,