Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 09] - Logic Of The Heart by Patricia Veryan Read Free Book Online Page B

no attempt to engage him in conversation. Valentine
Montclair would have been a disappointment to any Town valet with
aspirations to rise in his profession. He was, thought Gould, a perfect
representation of the artistic temperament: impatient with the demands
of Fashion and anything that smacked of the dandy; impatient with the
inanities of snobbish small talk and gossip; impatient with the lovely
young ladies who fluttered their lashes and their fans at him, and
whose vapid giggles and flirtatious chatter had been known to drive him
to a precipitate retreat from the parties his aunt so delighted to
preside over.
    Not an easy young man. But oddly enough, Montclair never quite
disgraced his valet. In the throes of composition he might wrench at
his neckcloth until it was all awry, or drive his long sensitive
fingers through his dark locks until they tumbled untidily over his
high forehead, yet with not the least inclination to do so, he always
looked well turned out. Mr. Junius Trent, who spent a small fortune on
his wardrobe, invariably found himself in some inexplicable fashion
cast into the shade by his cousin, with the result that Mr. Trent's man
was forever dodging boots or bottles hurled at him in a frustrated fury.
    Aware of some of the crushing burdens carried on those slim
shoulders, Gould had a deeper sympathy for his employer than Montclair
would have dreamed. To sympathy was added another emotion. Prior to
entering Montclair's service, the valet had enjoyed hearing the band
play in the park, and he'd even gone to Covent Garden once or twice,
mostly to see the opera dancers, of course, but paying more attention
to the music than many in the audience. When first he came to
Longhills, he'd soon learned that Sir Selby and Lady Trent had only
disdain for Mr. Valentine's musical talents, and that Mr. Junius Trent
was revolted by them. When guests came to dine, however, my lady
invariably pinched at "dear Valentine" until he agreed to play. It was
said with much amusement in the servants' hall that this was a mixed
blessing to Lady Trent, for her attempts to talk throughout her
nephew's performance were all too often ignored, and she had once
actually been "shushed" at. The applause and the praise showered on
Montclair were gall and wormwood to her, and on the evening when a
grande
dame
was moved to tears and embraced Valentine, saying he
was a true master, hilarious footmen relayed the information that my
lady's smile appeared to have been applied to her face with rusty
nails. Intrigued by all this, Gould crept one night to where he could
hear his employer play, and since then he eavesdropped as often as he
dared and was frequently so moved that he could scarcely refrain from
expressing his admiration. Had anyone suggested that he was deeply fond
of his unpredictable master, he would have scoffed, but had he been
offered twice his already generous salary, he'd have given not one
instant's consideration to leaving Valentine Montclair's service.
    He watched the young aristocrat walk briskly to the door, and
wondered what particular problem was causing the black brows to draw
into such a scowl this morning. The door closed, and Gould shook his
head worriedly. Mr. Valentine had fought hard to overcome the unknown
malady that had afflicted him in March, but here it was June and he
still suffered dizzy spells, and did not look—
    The door burst open, and Montclair's dark head was thrust
inside. "Forgot," he said, with a grin that banished the grimness and
took years from his lean face. "Good morning, Gould."
    "Good morning, sir," said Gould gravely. The door was slammed
shut, and the valet smiled and began to hum as he started to tidy up
the shaving paraphernalia.
    Montclair asked a hovering lackey to bring toast and coffee to
his study, and made his way to that ever welcoming haven. He crossed at
once to the harpsichord and stood with one hand on the lid, staring
blindly at the keyboards. In Town, good old Jocelyn and Dev