Free Madrigals And Mistletoe by Hayley A. Solomon Page A

own and rather indelicately wafted it under the poor woman’s nose. The vile concoction was enough to revive anyone and Ancilla recovered sufficiently to push the bottle away and indignantly remark that she felt very ill used.
    The duchess humphed, commented that this was precisely the type of behaviour one would expect from a peabrain and proceeded to rattle off a million and one reasons why the connection was desirable and why Christmas was by far the best time to accomplish it.
    She assured the beleaguered Ancilla that no more than a few gentle prods would be required to extract a proposal of marriage from her exasperating son’s lips. Ancilla did not share her classmate’s optimism.
    Still, in the face of the duchess’s overpowering glare, she acquiesced mildly and held her peace.

SIX
    The music room was more a library cum sitting room, with several instruments scattered about in rather haphazard a manner. Frederick’s eagle eyes noted a harpsichord and cello in the far corner and a little spinet somewhere in the muddle of some volumes stacked up high. These last, he noted, were probably more used than the instruments, for they abounded in bookmarks and revealed none of the deplorable dust that seemed to have settled upon the two larger pieces. In an instant he detected several scores in the mahogany-and-glass cabinet on his left. More were lying upon the music stand, but whether they had recently been consulted was hard to say.
    Seraphina unwittingly answered this question, for seeing the direction of his eyes—which were vivid blue, verging on violet, she quickly announced that it had been an age since she’d practiced, but Cordelia was tolerably well versed in the art. Since her accents bordered on disgust, the captain was given to infer she thought her sister’s virtue quite incomprehensible.
    Cordelia laughed pleasantly, her soft, bell-like tones a strong contrast to her sister’s more striking tenor. She declaimed, giving Captain Argyll to understand that, while she enjoyed tinkling on the harpsichord and was reasonably able to produce a melody, she was by no means proficient. The captain then handsomely invited her to join his lessons to which Cordelia laughed and promised that perhaps she would. Seraphina felt suddenly rather possessive of her music master and strangely loath to share him, though she loved her sibling dearly. Fortunately for them both, the elder Miss Camfrey recalled a pressing engagement for four and bid herself excused.
    Alone with her captain—for she thought of him as that—Seraphina’s high spirits surfaced to the fore. Though she deemed practicing “vile,” she peeked at him through abundantly adorable lashed eyes and murmured that she was ready to learn.
    The captain almost laughed aloud. The chit was obviously self-willed and spoiled, but he felt she would suit. He had expected to be bored to tears with his charge, but now he felt that she might present something of an unexpected challenge. Heaven knew, she was angelic to look at and angelic by name. He wondered if the appellation of “Seraph” suited her, but thought not.
    He was singularly undeceived by her meekness on meeting him. She was a cheeky little devil if ever he saw one. Still, that made for an interesting life and there was nothing good Lord Frederick liked more than that. He thought with amusement on Rhaz’s hope for him. Anything less like a “cross-eyed cit” was hard to come by.
    Certainly, in her morning dress of canary lemon with ringlets of auburn spilling out from abundant coils, she could hardly be described as a dowd by even the most exacting of critics. Frederick’s experienced eye roved downward to the more obvious of her charms. An innocent, but enticing nonetheless. He brought himself up sternly when he noticed his pupil colouring. He was here to teach and teach he damn well would.
    The fierce thought was soon tempered by a more