Lord Monroe's Dark Tower: The Albright Sisters: Book 2 Read Online Free Page B

ability. Then she started to sing — notes clear and sharp as mountain air. There could not be a more glorious sound.
    “
Of all the girls that are so smart, there’s none like pretty Sally
” Abella sang, “
She is the darling of my heart, and she lives in our alley
.”
    Claire sat forward and stared at Abella’s face. As the singer’s lips moved, the muscles of her throat worked while sound emanated in crystalline trills, but her voice seemed almost disembodied — as if God himself were singing instead of the shiny-eyed girl.
    Her father he makes cabbage-nets,
    And through the streets does cry ‘em;
    Her mother she sells laces long
    To such as please to buy ‘em
    Music skipped in Claire’s heart, tugging her gently side to side with its rhythm. She felt unimaginably happy. Before she could leap to her feet in wild applause, however, Abella began her next song — a ballad so slow and wistful, Claire’s eyes instantly filled with tears.
    “
But my kisses bring again, seals of love, though sealed in vain
,” the girl sang, while visions of graveside partings filled Claire’s mind. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from weeping. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she brushed them away praying Flavian wouldn’t notice. An involuntary sob shook her, and Flavian pressed a handkerchief into her palm. “Enough, my little songbird,” he said, “You are destroying our guest.”
    “Oh goodness, I play a pretty tune. That will cheer you.”
    “Forgive me,” said Claire, pushing words through a choked throat. “You have the most extraordinary voice. Absolutely brilliant.”
    Abella clapped her hands. “You so nice.
    “Shall I sing, Ruggleton’s Daughter of Iero?”
    “I think not,” said Flavian, looking uncomfortable, but Abella began plinking the keys of the pianoforte.
    O if your dinner you must have,
    Then get it yourself; I am not your slave,
    Said Ruggleton’s daughter of Iero.
    Instantly, Claire’s heartbreak dissipated, replaced by euphoria. Decorum couldn’t keep her from laughing outright, but it perturbed her that her emotions could be so easily manipulated.
    O you shall brew and you shall bake,
    Fal lal lal lal lal li-do,
    And you shall make your white hands black,
    To Ruggleton’s daughter of Iero.
    Abella sang the verse straight to Claire, her eyes glittering with good humor. But as she sang, a feeling of alarm crept into the room. Slyly raising her eyebrows and nodding her head, the girl piped the lyrics, “
He took a stick down off the rack, fall al lal lal lal li-do, and on the back went rickety-rack, of Ruggleton’s daughter of Iero
.”
    Laughter died on Claire’s lips as the songstress raised her hands from the keys with a flourish. Had the girl just issued a warning?
Nonsense
, thought Claire. Abella was extraordinary. When she stood and bowed, Claire rose, clapping her hands together in unfettered appreciation. Flavian joined in.
    “Magnificent, my Bella,” he declared as his ward swept to his side. He pulled her under his arm and kissed her cheek.
    “Now you do not cry,” Abella told Claire.
    “You are magic,” said Claire. “Honestly, it was as if your voice compelled me to feel every emotion. I was helpless in your spell.”
    “You are sweet!” said the girl. “Oh Vav, I like her so much!” Then she laughed — a sound as pretty as the tinkling of icicles.
    • • •
    At supper, Claire couldn’t suppress her elation. Flavian’s ward liked her, and he seemed so much warmer now. His brooding hesitation had vanished. He and Mrs. Gower glowed like twin lanterns as Claire and Abella giggled with the gaiety of school chums. The tunes from the concert still played in Claire’s very bones.
    “She has the most exceptional voice,” Claire gushed to Mrs. Gower, “and she plays on the heart as perfectly as she plays on the pianoforte.”
    “What fun!” said the chaperone.
    “Lord Monroe, you must sponsor a singing debut for Abella in London,” continued