Newport Summer (20 page)

“You worry like a farmer.” Garrett Atherton chuckled
beside him, correctly noting the reason for his friend’s
gaze skyward.

“Too much rain means empty bellies and a long winter,” Gannon said. All the money in the world couldn’t
control the harvest.

“It will be a much drier winter for many,” Garrett said.

“That reminds me, we should go down to the village
and look over the new roofs,” Gannon said, turning Brutus away from the lip of the rise.

“Andrew can do it. In fact, I think he’d like to. He did
a fine job while you were away,” Garrett put in.

“I’d like to see them anyway,” Gannon said tersely.
He’d like anything that kept him busy. Since his return
a few weeks ago, he’d found that the solution to missing Audrey lay in keeping busy. Fortunately, Camberly
was the ideal antidote. There was always plenty to do,
indoors and out.

In many ways, Camberly was acting as a balm. He was
proud of the improvements Andrew had made per his instructions. He was proud of what people in the village
were saying about Moira and the visits she’d paid to invalids. Even at fourteen, she’d stepped up and assumed
the duties of the lady of the manor. He loved Camberly,
and it felt good to be home. Garrett might laugh that he
was more farmer than earl when he was home in the
country, but Gannon didn’t care. He rather liked it. He’d
had enough of playing a part in Newport.

Would Audrey like Camberly? Was she enjoying Vienna? Was she happy playing the part she’d chosen?
These were not new thoughts to Gannon. He’d gotten
used to thinking them countless times a day-whenever
he looked at Camberly wheat, whenever he listened to
Moira’s amateurish efforts at the piano. In fact, it took
very little to conjure up thoughts of Audrey. Even the
smallest reference would suffice.

The thoroughfare was wide enough for two horses,
and Garrett had brought his horse alongside. His friend
was staring queerly at him. “I told you no good could
come of haring off to America,” Garrett chided.

Gannon furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? I went looking for a fortune and found it. Much good has
come from the trip,” he countered.

“You went looking for a wife, and I think you found
a fortune and a broken heart instead,” Garrett scolded.

“I seem to recall your rather pointed words about whoring myself like a common doxy. I’d think you’d
be thrilled I’ve returned unattached and free to marry
elsewhere”

Garrett snorted. “I would be thrilled if you were
thrilled. Whoever she was, she gave you no less than you
deserved. Still, I’d like to hear about her when you’re
ready to talk.”

“Hear about whom?” Gannon said casually.

“Whoever it was who broke your heart,” Garrett
replied matter-of-factly.

December, Vienna

“Whoever it was who broke your heart did a good job,”
Audrey’s music tutor said tersely, slapping his conducting
baton against the palm of his hand.

“No one’s broken my heart,” Audrey retorted stiffly
from the piano bench, where she’d just completed a
rather sad rendition of a Schubert lieder.

“Really? I beg to differ, Fraulein. Let’s try it again with
a little more verve. It’s a lieder, not a dirge. Soft, pastoral
is appropriate; utterly melancholy is not”

Audrey launched into the piece again, making an effort to keep the feeling of the piece more upbeat. This time she succeeded, but it wasn’t the first time she’d had
to overcome a tendency toward melancholy.

Vienna was lively, filled with intellectual life and culture. The conservatory had lived up to all her expectations
and she to its. Her marks at midterm were excellent. She
loved her study of music theory and the great composers.
But while Vienna seethed with life about her-dazzling
parties and salons and culture-the void left by Gannon
still gaped.

She’d sat down to write to Gannon on a few occasions
but never sent the letters. Perhaps he wouldn’t want to
hear about Vienna. Perhaps it would be too hurtful, or
perhaps it didn’t hurt anymore. Maybe he’d moved on
and relegated her to the past.

He’d said he’d wait, a voice whispered in the back of
her mind. She had no business expecting him to hold to
that promise. It had been an emotional time. Audrey
brought the Schubert piece to a close.

“Much better, Fraulein. We’re finished for the day”

Audrey breathed a sigh of relief. She needed a walk
about the city to clear her head and to cheer her. She
pulled on a coat and went to stroll around the park near
the school. It was only two o’clock. There was plenty
of time to enjoy the afternoon.

A man and woman drove past in a fashionable buggy,
laughing. A child ran across her path, chasing a ball. All
around her, people were together, and she was alone.

She scolded herself for wallowing so deeply in selfpity. She wasn’t alone. She had her classmates. She had her music. She had the attentions of a fine patron of the
arts in Vienna, Louis de Rocherer. But he didn’t have
hers. No one had hers. Except Gannon.

Audrey started to run, unmindful of the stares thrown
her way. She wasn’t sure what she meant to do. She
didn’t want to be sure. She didn’t want to think. She ran
back to her living quarters and threw a few things into a
bag. She hailed a cab for the bank. She made a withdrawal and headed for the train station. She was going to
England. She was going to Gannon. If he would still
have her.

The Yule log gave off the heady scent of pine
brought indoors, reminiscent of Camberly Christmases
past. Gannon surveyed the drawing room, full of villagers and merchants alike enjoying the celebrations.
Tonight, Camberly’s doors were wide open to all, long
trestle tables groaning with silver and food: puddings
and roasts and dressings and vegetables and holiday
sweets, gingerbread and mince pies.

Swags of greenery draped the enormous, man-sized
mantel of the drawing room fireplace. People whirled to
the steps of a country dance. Moira came to him, tugging
on his hand and looking a wondrous mix of woman and
child in her new blue velvet gown. He recognized its lace
as some of the trimmings he’d bought with Audrey in
Newport. “Brother, come dance with me. You’re the only
one not dancing.”

Gannon could not resist her. It was Christmas Eve, and he hadn’t danced since the Harvest Ball. He let
Moira lead him into the fray. People cheered at the sight
of the earl among them. Gannon felt his spirits lift. He
sashayed Moira up the column. He tried not to think of
Audrey, he tried to keep his thoughts fixed on Moira’s
dancing dark eyes, but a movement beyond the phalanx
of dancers caught his eye.

Chocolate hair. Great, now he was hallucinating. But
the vision came again, this time with eyes that met his,
the color of a robin’s egg. Andrew was with her, gesturing. The vision was moving toward him. Heedless of the
confusion he caused in the dance line, he moved toward
it, hardly daring to believe his eyes. Audrey was here. She
was dressed plainly and looked as if she’d traveled hard.

“Audrey? Is it you?”

“Gannon.” She flung herself into his arms, laughing,
crying. Around them, people stared. A few tut-tutted at
the use of the earl’s first name.

He tightened his arms about her, his joy overflowing.
“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t do it without you, Gannon,” Audrey confessed, her face lighting at the sight of him. “It was all
wrong without you. I am here because I can’t be anywhere else. Will you still have me?”

Gannon answered her with a kiss that spoke the volumes of his soul and the depth of his devotion, while
the people of Camberly cheered their approval.

A theatre in London, almost a year later

Audrey St. Clair, now known to her new friends better
as Lady Camberly, rose from the piano bench and swept
the standing audience at Royal Albert Hall a deep, gracious curtsey. The audience was generous with their rapturous applause. Tears of joy pricked Audrey’s eyes as
roses were thrown to the stage. She moved to gather them
up, noting that many of them were American Beauties.

She’d done her best tonight, and she was proud of all
that she’d accomplished. If anyone had told her little
more than a year ago that she would be married to an
English lord and playing in one of the most renowned
performance halls in Europe, she would have denied
the possibility.

But tonight was all about dreams coming true. Ten months ago, she’d married Gannon in a quiet ceremony
in Camberly’s village church. Her mother would have
cringed at the simplicity of the ceremony that had united
them. Since then, she’d spent her time learning to become a countess and studying her music, two roles that
no longer had to be mutually exclusive.

True to his word, Gannon had helped her find the instructors she needed to continue with her studies. He’d
seen the town house and the country estate supplied with
the finest instruments.

All those successes aside, the road to this evening
hadn’t been without its rough patches. In spite of Gannon’s efforts, people were hesitant to embrace a female
musician of her caliber. Professional music was still a
man’s field. Being a countess and a member of the peerage made the transition even more difficult, not easier,
Audrey discovered. Nonetheless, she and Gannon had
faced the social restrictions and prejudices together. Together, they’d overcome them.

Audrey waved to the crowd, acknowledging them with
her bouquet of gathered roses. She beckoned offstage to
where Gannon waited. She motioned him to come join
her. He strode across the stage, handsome and commanding, to her side, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I am
so very proud of you,” he whispered.

Then he turned and silenced the crowd, speaking into
a relatively new sound transmitter called a microphone.
“My wife, Lady Camberly, and I want to thank you all
for turning out tonight. As you know from the handbills for this evening, all the proceeds from this evening’s
concert are dedicated to the founding of the Audrey St.
Clair Musical Conservatory for Girls here in London”

The announcement was met with great applause, and
Audrey was moved to tears by the emotion of the moment. Tonight was indeed special beyond words, and
she had another surprise for Gannon as soon as they left
the stage.

They waved once more to the audience, and Audrey
let Gannon escort her to the wings, where they could be
alone for a short while. The Carringtons were hosting a
reception for a select few guests after the concert, and
they were expected.

“Are you happy, Audrey?” Gannon asked once they
were alone.

“Thrilled beyond words,” she said sincerely. “Thank
you for making all this possible. I doubt you knew what
you were getting into when you met me on the beach.”

Gannon laughed. “We started a legacy tonight, Audrey. Generations of girls will have the gift of music because of you”

Audrey smiled up at her handsome husband. “We’ve
started another legacy too,” she said mischievously.
“This one, for Camberly”

She delighted in the puzzled look that crossed Gannon’s face until the news registered. Then his face fractured into a wide grin.

“Not bad for a summer in Newport,” he chuckled,
drawing her closely against him.

She sighed, her arms about his waist. “No, not bad at
all for an heiress and an earl who were both reluctant to
marry.”

“But not reluctant to love,” Gannon corrected gently.

“Sounds like the making of a great love story.” Audrey smiled.

“Yes, our story.” Gannon bent to kiss her, and she
gave herself over to their very own happily ever after.