Page 71 of A Symphony for the Earl

“Seldon House isn’t far from Wembley, but I can’t imagine who this might concern. I suggest we all retire for the night and let Richard resolve the situation. We shall find out more when he returns.”

Fiona slowly followed the others upstairs, thinking of the emerald-and-diamond engagement ring. The Countess of Seldon. What would her new life be like? It was as much of a mystery as the man himself.

The following day was consumed by the last fitting of her dresses at Mme. Brigitte’s in the morning, and an afternoon filled with preparations for the ball and the wedding. In between, she wondered about Richard and his sudden departure.

As Fiona practiced Beethoven that evening, Lady Amelia sorted through responses to the baskets of invitations that Richard’s new secretary had mailed out. “I wonder if Valentina and Octavia are having a good time at the opera. It was kind of Denys to escort them.”

Fiona hid a smile. She knew his offer secretly thrilled Valentina and hoped the evening might stir them both to be honest about their feelings. As soon as Richard returned, she intended to gauge his reaction to a possible connection between the two.

“It’s an enchanting opera. I’m surprised you didn’t go as well, Lady Amelia.”

“Oh, there is far too much to do here. And besides,” she confided, “I am always asleep by the end of the performance.”

It was after midnight when Valentina and Octavia returned, full of praise for The Magic Flute, but thoroughly exhausted and ready for bed. Fiona offered to stay and help with the guest list for the ball, but Lady Amelia waved her away.”

“Your eyes are drooping, my dear. Allow me to finish and go upstairs. I’ve no word from Richard, and who knows when he will return.”

Some hours later, Fiona put aside the copy of Sense and Sensibility she had taken to bed. Even reading hadn’t lulled her to sleep. Rising, she slipped on her dressing gown and buttoned it to the chin, hoping that if caught downstairs, she would be dressed enough to pass scrutiny.

The house was quiet, but then it was after three in the morning. She wouldn’t try to play anything on the piano, but she could review the sheet music for the difficult Haydn sonata she hoped to master. As she passed the main drawing room, she heard the murmur of voices and drew back.

There was a dim gleam of firelight from within. She heard Richard’s low tone and wondered if she should turn around or dare slip by to the music room. But something about his voice gave her pause; it was halting and uneven, very different from his everyday speech. Was he distressed?

Concerned, she was about to enter when Lady Amelia spoke in soothing tones. Torn by curiosity, she stepped closer to the door. Richard must have returned from his sudden errand. She wondered what had interrupted his plans for Newmarket and told herself she could ask tomorrow and not eavesdrop when she caught Lady Amelia’s words.

“My dear boy, it breaks my heart to see you so unhappy. There was nothing you could do to save your father. I loved Creighton, but he was on a path to self-destruction.”

Richard’s voice was clearer now. “Colonel Bainbridge told me Father was wracked by guilt by his urge to gamble and drank to numb the pain…I never realized…”

Fiona’s hand went to her throat. It was a private conversation, and she shouldn’t listen, but the emotion in his voice riveted her in place. This was a side of Richard she had never seen.

“I was able to save Bainbridge from ruin…it was an easy thing to pay his debt to Fellingham. I should have stayed and found a way to help my father, but instead, I hated him for his harshness to me and for the pain he caused you. Why didn’t I see that he needed my help? I could have done something.”

“No, Richard.” Lady Amelia sounded close to tears as well. “You were eighteen. It was not your responsibility to save your father. He was a grown man, and the choices were his to make. No one can be rescued or rehabilitated without the desire to change, no matter how hard we try to help them.”

Quietly, Fiona backed away from the door. It wasn’t right to listen further. She should have left immediately, but she was glad to have overheard even a bit of the conversation.

She had hesitated to marry Richard because of his arrogance and his determination to control those around him. Now she had an insight into why he behaved as he did. He considered himself powerless to prevent his family’s ruin and had failed to rescue his father from disastrous behavior. No wonder he held himself in check! Perhaps he feared he might follow in Creighton Merrick’s footsteps, or there might be another financial catastrophe if he relaxed his vigilance.

His deep affection for his family, their mutual love of music, and his belief in her talent, even the way his wry sense of humor made her laugh aloud; these were things to cherish. That was the Richard Merrick she wanted to know better, the one she was more than half in love with.

Fiona slipped back into her chamber and closed the door, leaning against the carved wood. What had happened between the marquis and Colonel Bainbridge and why had Richard stepped in? She vaguely recalled meeting a colonel at Almack’s, an older gentleman in uniform. The reasons may never be clear, but she felt less apprehensive about her coming marriage. She hung up her dressing gown and climbed into bed, pulling the coverlet to her chin, but her mind was far too active for sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Richard’s Return to Merrick House

The next day, Richard appeared at breakfast, a little pale perhaps, but in good humor.

Valentina put down her fork. “Do you know, Richard, I just realized you haven’t suffered a headache recently. Not for weeks. That’s wonderful.”

“I’ve been fairly pain free since that ball at Almack’s. The addition of a secretary has helped, I suppose. There’s less time spent poring over documents and fretting every little detail. The burden of my responsibilities is lighter, and I’m sleeping less fitfully.”

“And one other thing has changed which you haven’t mentioned,” she quizzed him. “You’re in love, and people say love heals all wounds. How was your journey to Wembley? I do hope nothing serious called you away.”

“I went to visit Colonel Bainbridge, whom I learned was in some difficulty.”

“Oh, no…I am so sorry to hear that. I always enjoy his company at our social events. Do you remember the colonel, Fiona? You danced with him at Almack’s, an older, very distinguished gentleman. He was a particular friend of father’s.”