Page 55 of The Searching Songbird

Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly as she fought off the wave of longing that always seemed to creep up on her as she reached the end, pricking her eyes with inexplicable tears. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she forced herself to finish.

“Place a kiss upon my cheek and tuck my blankets tight,

And I will keep you close to me, all throughout the night.”

Turning her face to the side, she dashed her hand across her eyes. How absolutely ridiculous she was, tearing up over a children's song. She sniffed. And how absolutely ridiculous it was for a grown man to make such a request of her in the first place.

“Remarkable.”

The word was so softly spoken, she almost missed it. With stiff shoulders, she turned to face the baron, who was still staring up at her as though he'd seen the sun for the first time. Only, there was something else, something dark and possessive lurking there, too, and she shivered as she took a step away form the pianoforte.

“I'm glad you liked it...” She took another step. “Should we go in to dinner now? I'm quite hungry...”

He rose from the bench and closed the distance between them in one fluid movement. “As am I,” he murmured, dropping his gaze to her lips, which suddenly felt incredibly dry. She darted her tongue out to moisten them, then immediately wished she hadn't as she saw the flash of heat in his eyes.

“So... dinner, then?”

“Dinner...” He pulled his gaze back up to her eyes. “...will have to wait. There's something I need to show you first. Something you'll definitely want to see.” He caught her hand within his own and pulled her along behind him as he moved toward the door.

“What is it?” Lily gave her hand a subtle tug, but his grasp only tightened in response. A trickle of panic crept up her back, but she tamped it down. It was fine. Everything was going to be fine. It'll be to our benefit to see more of the mansion, anyway. Get a better read on our surroundings. She relaxed her arm, allowing herself to be pulled along without resistance.

“You'll see.” He hummed quietly under his breath as they moved down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. Another hallway came after that, and then another, until she started to wonder if she'd be able to retrace her steps. Goodness, this place is huge. Who would ever need so many rooms?

At last, he stopped. “My private study,” he supplied, pulling the door open and allowing her to precede him into the room. With hesitant steps, she moved past him, her mouth dropping in awe as she took it all in. To her right were floor-to-ceiling books. They wrapped around the side of the room and only ended when they reached a set of tall, glass doors that lead out onto a wide balcony.

It stopped raining, she noted absentmindedly as she took in the sliver of moonlight playing off the white, marble railing. She let her gaze slide to the left, passing over the well-stocked sideboard and landing on a large desk centered at the other end.

And then she just about choked on a gasp when she saw the fiery-haired woman sitting on the floor between the desk and the fireplace, her legs tucked beneath her and her hands folded on her lap. Her hair was piled high atop her head and a single black ribbon adorned her neck. She wore the same uniform as the maids, but there was nothing servant-like about her. She was a fairy, a wisp, an ethereal beauty born of the gods.

And she might have been dead, if not for the occasional blink of her lashes.

Oh gods, Fia. What has he done to you?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lily stood in stunned silence as she gaped at her Shendri sister, then practically jumped out of her skin as the baron came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Beautiful, isn't she?”

Is he seriously just going to stand there and talk about Fia as if she were some...some... statue he commissioned?

“Lady Marjorie Jane Harlow, the greatest singer in all of Lehi.”

Wait, what?

Lily blinked in confusion, her eyes still locked onto Fia's still form. “Your… maid... is a lady?”

“What? No, of course not.” He chuckled. “The very idea. Lady Fia.” He took hold of Lily's chin and gently turned her face to look at the wall behind the desk. The portrait of a young woman hung there. She had golden hair that was piled loosely atop her head, with a few cleverly placed tendrils flowing down around her face. Her blue eyes were warm, and the tilt of her lips hinted at mischief.

Lily swallowed, trying to dispel the sudden thickness in her throat that was making it so very hard to breath. “How do I know that face?” she whispered, momentarily forgetting who it was that stood behind her, as well as her Shendri sister seated on the floor. Nothing and no one else mattered at this moment except that face. That excruciatingly familiar face. “Lady Majorie... who is she?”

“Lady Marjorie was many things to many people. To some, she was an upstart. An actress who had the audacity to marry an earl, therefore claiming the title of countess. To others, she was a muse, her music inspiring some of the greatest works of art of our time. To my father, she was an unattainable prize, loyal to her husband both in marriage, as well as in death.” He paused, and his voice dropped. “A rather suspicious death, I might add.”

Icy tendrils inched up Lily's arms, and she shivered. The baron slid his hands up and down her arms as if to warm her, and she couldn't seem to make herself move to stop him.

“Before the earl died, he did, however, manage to make her one more thing – a mother.” Oh gods. “She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Lady Helena Marie Harlow, the apple of her mother's eye and the center of her world.”

The room blurred around her as a memory crept in, faded and old. It was wrinkled around the edges, but the face that peered down at her shone like a beacon, a vision of blue and gold. There was a voice... sweet and fluid... and a song, that whispered of adventure and a mother's love.