Silent Melody by Mary Balogh Read Free Book Online Page B

then closing them hard, like iron bands, about his brother. Ashley returned the embrace and closed his eyes very tightly.
    â€œGood God!” Luke said after what felt to Ashley like minutes but was probably only seconds. “Dear Lord God. Ash!” His voice sounded dazed, shaken.
    â€œYes.” Ashley swallowed. He did not want to open his eyes.
    But Luke ended the embrace and took a step back. He set his hands on Ashley’s shoulders. “By God, Ash, it really is you. What the devil?” He patted his brother’s shoulders as if to assure himself of the reality of his presence. “What the bloody devil?” Clearly he had forgotten his surroundings.
    Ashley, facing into the ballroom, had become suddenly aware of them. Noise, or rather the surprising lack of noise considering the occasion and the largeness of the gathering, assaulted his ears. He was aware of people, of the very public nature of this reunion. He was aware of Anna, who came hurrying up behind Luke, looking scarcely a day older than when he had left and every bit as lovely, looking as sweet and as sunny as she had ever looked.
    â€œAshley,” she said, and Luke stood aside and she was in his arms. “Oh, Ashley, my dear, you are home.”
    And then his mother was there, looking her usual composed, dignified self even though her eyes were wide with surprise. He had recovered some of his control and bowed formally over her hands and kissed her cheeks.
    â€œMadam,” he said, “you are looking well.”
    And then a lady in pink satin and silver lace was hurtling across the room and throwing herself into his arms, and he closed his eyes again briefly as he hugged his sister to himself.
    â€œAshley.” She said his name over and over again. “Oh, Ashley, you wretch. You have not written to any of us for over a year, so that we have been almost beside ourselves with worry. And all the time you have been coming home. How could you!”
    Doris, Lady Weims, looked a vibrant and lovely woman rather than the pretty, sometimes petulant girl she had been when he left. She had married Andrew, the Earl of Weims, five years ago. They had two children.
    But Luke was recovering control of both himself and the situation. He turned to face his guests in the ballroom and raised his arms, though the gesture was unnecessary. The attention of almost everyone was already focused upon the drama playing itself out in the doorway.
    â€œMy apologies for the delay in the festivities,” he said. “As you can see, Lord Ashley Kendrick has arrived home from India unexpectedly. You will pardon my family group for withdrawing for a few minutes? The music will resume as soon as the sets have formed.” He nodded to the leader of the orchestra.
    â€œAshley.” Anna had taken his arm and was leading him away from the ballroom. “Where have you left Lady Ashley—Alice? And Thomas? Are they downstairs? Or did you have Cotes or Mrs. Wynn show them to a room?”
    He was aware of his family about him. A stranger had joined Doris—presumably Weims. They were all beaming with happiness. They were in the middle of celebrating a new baby’s christening with a ball. And he was tired. Bone weary. Soul weary.
    â€œMy wife and son are at a hotel in London,” he said. “They were exhausted after the long voyage. I came on alone. I wanted to come home.”
    He was desperately tired. Perhaps tomorrow there would be peace. Not tonight. There was too much turmoil tonight.
    Perhaps tomorrow.
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    A hand touched her elbow and she came back from a long way away to find herself standing in the ballroom at Bowden Abbey. Lord Powell was smiling at her and gesturing to the sofa beside her. She sat.
    He stood looking down at her, his hands clasped at his back. The hilt of his dress sword, she noticed, was studded with rubies. They did not match his coat. But perhaps, unlike