O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,170

and spread out his hands. “Now, it’s time to celebrate. Please, sing for us.”

Etta’s mind was whirling.

“Miss Henrietta?” he asked again, a slight edge sharpening the request.

“Oh, yes, of course. Tia?”

The younger girl stood and walked across the room to the pianoforte. Etta followed, her feet numb as she leaned against the mahogany and sifted through the music. Something melancholy. Something appropriate. She found the sheets for “The Soldier’s Adieu” and placed it in front of her sister.

When they finished, Turnsley studied Etta. “You have a bird’s voice.”

Tia gasped. “Bad choice? Then you choose the next one!”

Their cousin’s mouth fell open, his chin swallowed by his elaborate cravat. “No, I said—”

Etta quickly tapped her sister’s shoulder and finger spelled “bird” then ran her finger down her throat.

Tia giggled. “My apologies, Lord Turnsley.”

“What was that?” he asked Etta mildly, moving his fingers in imitation.

“She has limited hearing since the scarlet fever. We learned the manual alphabet and spell any words one of us can’t decipher.” Etta held her breath.

“How long has she been this way?”

Tia answered herself. “Three years, just after my tenth birthday.”

The air left Etta’s lungs in a rush. The cat was out of the bag, and he seemed intrigued rather than taken aback or disgusted. “She’s very skilled at lipreading,” she added.

“Obviously,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “How limited?”

“She can hear some high-pitched sounds, like a whistle.”

“No words? No human voices?” His gaze raked up and down the girl in question.

Etta shook her head. “But she’s still accomplished. Music has always been her passion, and she’s able to count beats with a metronome.”

Turnsley’s attention now focused on Tia. “Play some more. Something happy and lively,” he ordered, twirling his hands in the air.

The sisters performed several more songs while their cousin polished off half a decanter of brandy. Etta yawned and Tia mimicked the gesture. “It’s been an eventful day. I believe we’ll both retire, my lord.”

“Of course, my sweet.” He nodded at Tia as she left the room. Etta’s feet had just crossed the threshold when he stopped her. “Could you stay for a moment? I have a few questions.”

So close!

He patted the chaise longue where he sat on one end.

She perched on the edge of the pea-green velvet, studying the tassels that lined the bottom of the cushion. His hand covered hers. This time, she yanked it free and clasped her fingers together.

He only grinned. “By the devil, you’ll be an amusing ice queen to crack and melt.”

“I have not accepted your proposal. Please do not use such vulgar language in front of me.” Her limbs trembled. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

Turnsley guffawed. “You poor little country mouse. You really have no idea, do you?” He wrapped a thick strand of her glossy hair around a finger and held it to his nose. “As your sister’s guardian, I’m in the position to make her life comfortable or miserable. I can keep her close or send her very far away. I will leave that choice up to you.”

“If I marry you, then Tia will accompany us to London?”

“I’m afraid there is no way Miss Horatia could come to Town. I understand why your father never ventured south. I’ll need to change strategies.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “Is that why she’s prone to those fits?”

“Fits?”

“Those outbursts.” He sighed and ran a hand through his curls. “Disconcerting, to say the least.”

“She forgets to gauge the volume of her voice if she’s startled or excited. You’ve been here a week and just discovered her secret,” Etta reminded him.

“Yes, but I drink a decanter of brandy a day, love. How can I put her on the market when she’s damaged goods?”

“What does that mean?” Foreboding settled over her like mosquito netting.

“It means I didn’t expect to be saddled with a lackwit. A penniless nobleman would laugh me out of Almack’s with her in tow, let alone a bachelor of prominent standing. No, marriage is out of the question.”

Etta gasped, her hands fisted on her hips. “There is nothing lacking in Tia. She is intelligent and witty and—”

“Deaf. Damned rotten luck.” Turnsley sighed and scrubbed his face. “Henrietta, I’m not a cruel man, but I cannot afford to pay for her care for the rest of her days.”

“Why can’t she stay with us?” Etta pleaded. “She’s my sister. She’s all I have left of my family.”

“I will be your family now. I plan on a horde of children. Besides, my mother would most