“Wesley told me you were visiting,” Marksaid.
Sophie Crauford was waiting for him in the red parlor when he entered with his three dogs panting behindhim.
“Have you been riding?” Sophie asked with a welcomingsmile.
“Foxes—keep raiding the barnyard. Thought we might flush a few, but no luck. Craftybuggers.”
“Father has much the same problem. Says it is time for a hunt,” Sophie said, as she walked leisurely about the room, knowing just how to show off her attractivefigure.
“What brings you to Linfield? I thought you were at the London house,” Mark said as he approached Sophie and gave her a kiss on thecheek.
She turned away with a pout. “I have not. And you have been a very naughtyboy?”
“Oh? And why isthat?”
“You have not visited me in well over aweek.”
Mark was not about to play into her pouts, so he said, “Shall I ring for sometea?”
“No tea. I have a mind to just leave and never return until you treat meproperly.”
Mark knew Sophie’s games and just stood admiring her perky indignation which she displayed sowell.
Mark had been courting Sophie, the daughter of Baron Crauford, a nobleman who lived close by. The two had known each other since childhood and it had always been assumed that they were a suitable match formatrimony.
Sophie wore a small jaunty hat on top of her blond ringlets with a form-fitting satin dress that showed off her very best attributes. She was very beautiful and often stayed at her family’s London house because she was always in demand at the season’s many socialfunctions.
She had a lovely oval face with small lips and a slightly upturned nose that gave her the quality of apixie.
“Very well, since you refuse to answer me, I shall leave and free you to attend to your other, obviously, more pressingconcerns.”
She kicked at the hem of her dress and turned with a swirl and headed for thedoor.
“Sophie, you know I am delighted to see you, but I have been tied up with business matters, and I did believe you were in London. Do not be a silly filly aboutit.”
She turned and scowled at him. “Oh, I am a silly horse, am I?” And she continued toward the door, but he did not stop her, and sheleft.
This little incident was going to cost him at least a flower arrangement or even a silver necklace. But he tapped his riding crop against his boots to rouse the dogs and headed for the stable, where he had noticed a lame horse when he stabled his own afterriding.
* * *
Mark and his uncle, Silas Skeffington, were headed from Linfield to London in his carriage the next afternoon. They were dressed in evening wear even though it was mid-afternoon. They had musical business to attend to before attending a concert that evening in a small hall in the West End that was featuring a performance by a trio of lady musicians—a most unusualaffair.
Silas sat opposite Mark in the carriage. At first, they were both lost in their own thoughts as they left the house. Silas, his mother’s younger brother, worked closely with Mark on his many musical projects. They both had a passion for supporting the arts, but most importantly, music. It was, in fact, Silas’s profession to manage a few musical artists and to organize and direct tours for various musical groups andsoloists.
Silas was in his late forties but was still considered to be handsome and dashing. He had red hair like his sister and kept in good shape due to his passion for hiking and swimming in the nearby forestpreserve.
His sister had bequeathed him a fine Georgian house in a nearby village, and he was often at Linfield conferring with Mark on businessmatters.
“What have you heard about this trio we are to see this evening?” Silasasked.
“Very little. But the fact that there are three female musicians is interesting enough to spark my interest,” Marksaid.
“I have heard that the pianist is quite exceptional. Some of my contacts in the musical world tell me she is a virtuoso and could be headed for internationalfame.”
“Really? And hername?”
“Miss Emily Dunn. I believe her father is the owner of Cartwright & Phillips, a well-respectedestablishment.”
