The Hellion's Waltz by Olivia Waite

Author:Olivia Waite
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Published: 2021-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

They heard the first echoes as soon as they entered the stairwell—but it was only when Sophie pulled open the door at the top that the full cacophony hit them.

Maddie stopped dead right there in the hall. Sophie could hardly blame her. Between the sounds of Annie setting the table in the dining room to the right, and the ceaseless noise from her siblings in the parlor to the left overlooking the street, there was barely space to hear oneself think. Jasper and Julia were racing each other through a violin piece, repeating it faster and faster to see whose fingers faltered first. Mr. Roseingrave was reading aloud to Robbie from a history of the French Revolution, and Freddie was embellishing with the goriest details a twelve-year-old’s mind could dream up, while sixteen-year-old Robbie pedantically attempted to correct him on matters of anatomy. “Heads on pikes can’t grin, you ghoul.”

“Why not?” Freddie complained. “If the man with the frog legs can make ’em kick without the rest of the frog—”

Jasper missed a note, and groaned as Julia jeered in triumph.

“They go rotten, is why.”

“What about the princess who nailed the horse head up—”

“That was a fairy tale!”

“What about the Frank monster?”

“Frankenstein. And when did you read that, anyway?”

“Borrowed it from you.”

“You stole it—and you’ll give it back or I swear—”

Julia’s bow shrieked on the violin strings. Jasper stopped playing to argue that was a fault; Julia argued vehemently that it didn’t count because it was a deliberate expressive choice, on purpose—

Maddie clutched at Sophie’s elbow, looking rather green around the gills. “No wonder you’re so quiet,” she muttered. “How does anyone else get a word in edgewise?”

Sophie chuckled and leaned close. “You have to find other ways of getting attention,” she said, and nipped at Maddie’s earlobe.

The soft gasp that resulted was the most musical sound in the world. Maddie’s smile was shy and charmed, as if Sophie had surprised her in the best way.

Sophie’s heart buoyed her up, and courage propelled her into motion: she grabbed Maddie by the elbow and led her inexorably into the parlor. “Good evening, everyone, I’d like you to meet—”

Mr. Roseingrave closed his book and stood up; everyone else carried on.

Sophie tried again. “This is my friend Miss—”

Mrs. Roseingrave looked up from her mending, and took a breath to fill her singer’s lungs. “Quiet!” she called—it was less of a shout and more a sword of sound, tempered to slice through the tangle of voices.

The noise cut off abruptly.

Sophie tucked her arm through Maddie’s and spoke into the silence left by the trailing ends of sentences. “Everyone, allow me to introduce Miss Madeleine Crewe. She’ll be joining us for dinner tonight.”

The Roseingrave siblings scrambled to attention, instruments and arguments cast aside. One by one they bowed and curtsied and offered their names, as polite as any parent could hope.

Sophie’s mother came forward last, offering her hand and a gentle smile. “So pleased to meet you, Miss Crewe.”

Maddie’s eyes flicked to the ear trumpet Mrs.

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