The Marquis and the Magician's Assistant (The Rebel Royals 4)

Chapter Four

“What did you say?"

The response to the question came back garbled. It was mixed and blended into the cacophony of sounds coming from every direction, corner, and nook of the great house of the Mondegos. In the ballroom, spin tables had been set up, and an army of would-be disc jockeys were spinning vinyl and learning to scratch needles. In the former ladies' retiring room, three female and one male soprano were vying for the highest note on the scales. In the front receiving room, four grand pianos were set up with two students on each bench. The young pianists took turns running scales under the direction of the patriarch of the house.

Diego Zhi Wen de Bernadino, Duke of Mondego, stood in the center of the square made by the string instruments. His hands were raised like a conductor as he led his pupils. But when his gaze fell to the door and spied Spin and Lark in the entryway, he paused. A huge grin split his handsome face as he took in Spin. Even though the ray of love didn't shine on Lark, its effects couldn't be ignored.

Lark had never had a man look at her the way Zhi looked at her best friend. Sure, men ogled her when she was on a stage, or even just walking down a street. But looking at her with a light of utter devotion wanting nothing but her presence, no one would've ever believed that was possible. But here she was seeing proof of it.

"What did you say, my darling?" Zhi repeated. His hands lowered now that the music had stopped, but they didn't drop to his sides. They reached out for Spin as he came near her. He didn't need to come closer to hear her now that there was silence. Lark was certain the man simply couldn't resist the opportunity to take Spin into his arms.

"I said the piano tuner is here," Spin answered as she came willingly into his embrace.

DJ Spin d'Elle, less commonly known by her true name, Lady Eleanor Trent, had never been a woman to hold still or reveal her secrets. Not even to her best friend. But that had all changed when she'd met the duke. Now Spin wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck. There was nothing unsaid between the two of them.

"Not in front of the children, you two." Nian Zhen, the dowager duchess, tsked from the doorway.

Zhi planted a chaste kiss on Spin's cheek. Then he turned his head and whispered something into her ear. Whatever it was, it made the DJ blush and bite her lip. Spin couldn't hide the fact that she was head over turntables for the duke.

Turning to the children, Zhi said, "You lot, off to an early lunch. We'll pick up on this lesson tomorrow."

The kids filed out into the great hall and headed toward the kitchen as the tuners came in. The tuners weren't the only workers in residence that afternoon. The ducal estate of Mondego House had been transformed into a music and arts school in just a couple of months. Plumbers clanged on pipes. Carpenters beat a percussive tune with hammers. It all mixed in with the kids rapping out back and the dancers tapping on the hardwood floors of the hallway.

It was all euphonious chaos, and Lark loved it. This was how she'd grown up, in a huge, boisterous extended family where quiet was unheard of, and solitude didn't exist. Running the show was the once quiet and reserved dowager duchess.

Nian flitted amongst the children with a grin that never left her face. Her eyes were bright as she stopped to watch performances. Each time she stopped to give encouragement or correction, she clasped her hands to her heart as though she were giving each student a piece of that organ.

When Lark and Spin and first come to Mondego House, the Duchess had been a shell. Now that she was freed from the burden of her abusive husband, she had filled, like sand inside of a clam that opened to produce a pearl.

"My darling girl," Nian said, taking Lark's hands in her own and clasping them to her heart. "You haven't told me how your show with Omar is coming along."

"It's going really great," said Lark. "He hasn't tried to make a single change to my plan. He's letting me put on my exact vision."

"Well, of course, he is. Omar knows talent when he sees it. He's always been great at polishing rough edges. He's lucked out with you because you don't have any."

Lark preened under Nian's praise

like she was one of her students. It wasn't only the praise that pleased her. It was the mention of her producer and his belief in her talent. Being of the same noble class, Nian would have known Omar for much of his life. So, she'd have some insight into how the man thought. Lark wanted to believe that she was different than the other acts Omar had produced; that she was something special.

"I met one of his former acts today," Lark hedged.

"Oh, don't tell me it was that Summer woman." Nian curled her lip in distaste.

Lark had never seen the duchess look at anything or anyone with contempt. Not even her husband, who had been cruel to her their entire marriage. "So, you don't like that Summer woman?"

"A man in Omar's position has many women, and a few men, trying to offer him more than their artistic talents if you know what I mean."

Lark knew what she meant. The entertainment industry had bad apples on both sides of the couch. The producers and directors who tried to get talent to sit down with them on the piece of furniture. And the talent who flopped down there on their backs without invitation.

"Omar is usually very good at seeing through those who only want to use him. But for some reason, he didn't see it with Summer."

"She used him to get ahead?"

Nian nodded. "And then, once he'd brought her out into the world and made her relevant, she left him for another producer. He was devastated. I believe he had actual feelings for the minx."

Had he looked devastated the other day when Lark had caught the two backstage? She wasn't entirely sure what she'd walked up on. All she knew was that Omar hadn't tried to make a pass at her, and he seemed to genuinely believe in her talent. It was enough.

One of the longtime housemaids made their way over to the two of them. Thinking it was business with the repairs or the school, Lark prepared to make her excuses. But the maid approached her.