“I didn’t mention where it was.”

“Of course you did.” His gaze flicked back to his paper. “Now get on with it, and we’ll begin again in the fall. Or later, if you find yourself caught up in your work there.”

This little investigation at the asylum had begun voluntarily—almost in defiance—but now it seemed that once again my life was still being controlled and I was merely riding downstream on the currents others had created for me.

I was shaking. Without another word, with not even the slightest acknowledgment from Marcel of my hard stare at him, I left.

Within an hour, I’d taken a hackney out of Manchester to Seaton Hall, the home of my late grandparents—and the residence next door to Richard. It had remained open to me for visits, even after my grandmother’s death, and for that I was grateful. The distant cousins who now owned the hall were in London for the season, so I’d sent word to Richard earlier that we’d meet there tonight.

I had been dreading the meeting a little, but now I craved the familiar sound of his voice. The scent and look of him. No one calmed me as he did.

“You’re not going back, are you?” That was the first thing he asked when I admitted to him where I’d been. I immediately wished I hadn’t.

“I don’t know.” I answered with half a mind, the other half on the sonata I was playing. How good it felt to have silken ivories under my fingertips again. “I suppose I have to. This is only a half-day break, and they expect me back by morning.” What was it that made me so contrary? This refusal to be told what to do, even if both he and Marcel were telling me opposite things.

He sighed, leaning on the edge of the instrument. “If only you could hear how utterly ridiculous this sounds. You, working in an asylum? It was one thing to go as a pianist, but Vivvi, what if people hear of it?”

“They won’t. I’ve signed on under another name.”

“Suppose someone sees you going in? Someone you know?”

I gave a short laugh. “No one I know would be within throwing distance of that place.”

He eyed me with a look that said I was only proving his point.

“I won’t work there a moment longer than necessary, but with Father’s debts, what did you expect me to do, sit at home?”

“Well . . . yes. That is, I hoped you would. Or perform, as you always have.”