Page 30 of A Stranger’s Kiss

The genuine confusion on the old woman’s brow made Olivia feel guilty for even mentioning the matter. She drew a shaky breath. “William? Have you seen him?” She hadn’t let him go yet. Perhaps, he’d stumbled on the box by accident and thought it a lost treasure, free for the taking?

“William’s snoring in the kitchen, lass.”

She was off to the kitchen before Mrs. Lambert had finished the sentence.

“The box, William,” Olivia gasped as she shook him awake. “Where is the box?”

“Box?” William mumbled, looking even more puzzled than Mrs. Lambert had.

The tears flowed then. With a sob, Olivia sank to her knees. She was ruined. It made little difference if Louisa sang now. The man would cancel the venue. Without the concert, she would be forced to sell the printing press…and without the press, how would she and her father survive?

She remained on her knees, the tears sliding down her cheeks. Slowly, she forced herself to breathe. Sniveling never solved a thing. Not once had tears provided much needed help. An image of her grandfather snaked through her mind—not the image of a friendly source of strength, of aid, but a tall, stern man who would no doubt be delighted to see her fail.

She gritted her teeth. She wasn’t giving up. Nae, she would give him not a single jot of satisfaction. She would see her father’s songs sung in the Theater Royale and she would sell every blasted book of music she’d ever printed—with or without Louisa’s help. Aye, she would hire someone to find Louisa. She’d force her to sing, with or without the contract. The woman was greedy. Surely, she couldn’t refuse a doubling of her fee?

Right now, she had to convince Mr. Pitt to wait without having to sell her soul—but then, it wasn’t her soul that he wanted. She shoved to her feet, wiped her eyes, and straightened her hair.

“Mr. Pitt,” she began as she stepped through the curtains.

Nicholas glanced up from the counter, where he flipped through the pages of Delightful Summer Songs of the Heart. “I am afraid Mr. Pitt has been called away on urgent business,” he said with a circumspect nod. “He asked me to convey the message that he would return on the original agreed upon date for the last payment.”

Olivia blinked. She glanced around the room, unable to believe his words. “Surely, you misunderstood.”

“Ah, here.” Nicholas fished in his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was Louisa’s crumpled letter, but there was new writing on the back. “He did remember to write it down. Signed it, as well, I believe.”

Olivia read the spidery scrawl on the back. Indeed, it was Mr. Pitt’s recognizable script, though somewhat shakier than usual.

“Why?” she wondered, aloud.

Nicholas yawned. “I couldn’t say.”

Olivia cocked a brow and looked him in the eye. He met her gaze easily enough, the corners of his chiseled lips quirking at the edges.

Then, the sight of Louisa’s name rekindled her anger. “You have a carriage, do you not, Lord Blair?”

“Indeed, I do.”

“Then I must impose upon you. I need a ride to Number Fourteen, Parsonage Square. As payment, I will willingly assist with your business with my cousin.”

His blue eyes gleamed as he executed an elaborate bow. “I am at your service, Miss Mackenzie.”