by Abby Ayles
He was such a handsome man. Watching him there did something to her.
Something she could not quite explain.
Or was simply unwilling to consider.
She had decided to forget her curiosity, to swallow her questions, but she found it impossible.
She needed to know his story. She wanted to understand. She wondered what kind of man he had been before his loss.
She wondered if he would ever be that man again.
She was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts when the music stopped suddenly. That was when she realized that his eyes were now open—and he was staring right at her, his expression blank, his eyes too dark to fathom.
“Lady Judith,” he said simply.
Uncertain what to do, she sank into a deep curtesy and greeted him.
“Your Grace.”
She kept her eyes downcast, not daring to look him in the eye. Her heart thudded in her chest; questions spun in her mind.
Would he find her intrusion impertinent? Would he forgive her?
Now that she had been caught, what would he do?
What would she do?
Chapter 15
Stephen stared at the woman before him. Never had he been so confused by anyone. He had no inkling what to do with her, how to behave when she was near.
Her green eyes often looked at him as though they could see through the secrets he tried to hide yet wore around himself like a cloak.
When he was away from her, he wondered about her. What she was doing? If she were happy in his home. Yet, in her presence, he scarcely had any words to say.
If he ever managed to find them, recent happenings had proven that they were never the right ones.
Then, there was the matter of the feelings she stirred inside him. Feelings that had been dead for so long.
They were emotions he could not bring himself to accept, not yet. Merely acknowledging that they existed felt too much like a betrayal.
Abigail would turn in her grave in anger and hurt if he dared accept them; if he ever chose to act on them. No, he was better off denying their existence.
How could he admit that this woman made him want to smile again? That she filled his heart with such warmth and light, just as she had done with his home, and, every passing moment, he fought the overwhelming urge to embrace the change she so easily fashioned.
Certainly, he could not dare to look at her with his eyes so filled with the sorrow and pain that had dwelled therein ever since Abigail’s passing.
Would it not be wicked to try to regain that sparkle? That twinkle and happy gleam formerly offered only to his late wife? Of course, it would.
That was why he could not let her get too close; why he must not give in to his heart’s growing desire to be in her presence, to see her smile, to hear her sweet laughter.
He had already done too much, watching her from the shadows in the early days. All this madness, for that was the only word for it, must stop.
Yet, as his gaze held those enchanting green eyes, he could not bring himself to turn her away. Nor could he bring his legs to work and flee the room.
So, ignoring the voice of reason, he opened his mouth to speak.
“I did not think I would ever have an audience” he said, ever so softly.
She swallowed before answering.
“You must pardon me. I was passing by when I heard the music. I could not resist coming in. I simply had to see who was playing such a beautiful melody. I did not mean to intrude. Please, do not stop on my account. I shall find my way out.”
She dipped into a shallow curtsy and, as she rose, made to leave. He surprised himself then by stopping her.
“Please, there is no need to leave.”
She halted in her tracks, brows raised in question, eyes widened. She seemed stunned.
“Do you play?” he asked, ignoring the question in her eyes.
She stuttered as she tried to speak. “I … well, I sup…” Abruptly, she closed her mouth. She swallowed again before trying once more to speak. This time, the words came easily.
“I suppose I can say yes. Although, not as beautifully as you. I only have the skill because I was taught as a child. My sister is the one with the talent.”
He knew she had parents, and an aunt in the North, but it was the first he was hearing of any sibling.
He could not say that he had not wondered if she were an only child, and what kind of parents would let their daughter travel halfway across the country with only a maid for escort.
Were there any more siblings? Or was it just her and her sister?
He acted as though he had not heard that bit of information, not quite knowing what to say or do with it.
He simply nodded, then held out his hand to her.
“Perhaps you would care to try?”
When she did not respond, he added, “I have not heard anything played by anyone other than myself in years. It would be nice to simply sit back and enjoy the music for a change.”
She looked from the pianoforte to him.
A shudder rippled through him, when her lips perked at both ends in a warm smile.
It made him think of sunshine and green fields. Things he had not let himself enjoy in a long while.
“Well, if you put it that way, I can hardly refuse now, can I?”
She was already walking towards him.
He shifted on the bench as she neared, leaving room for her to sit next to him.
“I must warn you again,” she continued, “I am not the gifted one here.”
His lips lifted before he caught himself. Thankfully, it was just in time to stop the smile from fully forming.
His heart thudded heavily in his chest and his stomach churned, so much so that he ended up scowling.
But he had smiled! And a genuine one at that. He was losing the battle quicker than he had anticipated.
Stephen looked sideways at the woman beside him. She seemed to remain oblivious to all that was happening to him.
This close, he could see her features very clearly, the goldenness in her blonde hair, the lush lengths of her eye lashes, the fullness of her cheeks. Her skin was so beautiful; like milk and silk, mixed in a fine blend.
He could smell her. Cinnamon and roses, a hint of cherry, and a whiff of jasmine. Exotic and intoxicating enough to make a grown man want to lean in closer and remain by her side all day long.
She cleared her throat then, drawing him out of his thoughts. As he came to, he realized that her cheeks were flushed crimson.
He wondered if their nearness had caused this, or if she was simply flustered by the way he had been staring at her.
The thought of the latter mortified him. He had hoped not to be so obvious.
“Do you have a particular melody you would like to hear, Your Grace?”
“No,” he croaked. This time, he was the one who cleared his throat. When he spoke again, he thanked the heavens he sounded normal.
“Play whatever comes to mind, Lady Judith. Surprise me.”
She still wouldn’t look him in the eye, would not hold his gaze.
She started to play, her delicate, soft fingers pressing the keys gently.
It did not take long for him to recognize the tune. It was an old one, Beyond the Clouds. However, he had never heard it played so … ordinarily.
He watched her as she continued to strike the chords. She had the skill, that much was apparent. What she lacked however, was the heart.
She played without feeling, only with knowledge.
He said nothing, simply listening as she continued to make the melody.
His eyes returned to her face, utterly mesmerized by her beauty. For a fleeting moment, he found himself wondering if her heart was spoken for. If she had someone waiting for her back in London. A man, to whom she was promised.
He shook his head as he realized the meaning of his thoughts. Immediately, he chided himself for even thinking such things.
What did it matter to him who was or was not waiti
ng for her at home?
Why did it matter?
She stopped playing then, bringing his thoughts to an abrupt end.
With a smile on her face, she turned to him.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Those green orbs were filled with hope, and, when he felt a hand squeeze around his heart, he knew that he was a fool. A hopeless one.
“You play well,” he said simply, forcing himself to look away in case he lost his mind completely.
“Oh?” she asked again, her voice ever soft, breaking through the walls he had taken time to build as though the barricade meant nothing to her.
Why her? Why was it so easy for her?
He nodded. “You do. You have the skill, Lady Judith. What you need only is the heart. To play the pianoforte beautifully…”
“As beautifully as you do?” she cut in, her smile widening.
He paused, inhaling sharply. Her lips had been full of praises for him ever since he caught her standing there, watching him with emotions she would do well to put into her music.
Emotions he refused to consider.
He had refused to let those praises affect him, refused to give them any thought. Alas, he was only a man and he could not deny that made him … feel.
“You only think I play beautifully because I play from my heart, not my mind.”
“There is a difference?”
He gave a curt nod. “When you play from your mind, you play because you know the notes, you know what keys you must strike. You are doing too much thinking, trying too hard to make no mistake, to be perfect. That is not music.”
“And when you play from your heart?” she asked. Her curiosity seemed genuine.
“You simply feel,” he answered. “You let it all pour from here,” he lifted his hand to the part of his chest where the pain had been hurting him for too long.
Until now.
“Your heart guides your hands. That is how you make music.”
He made the mistake of holding her gaze then, and he felt himself losing his way a little more.
Those eyes looked at him, shining as though he had just shown her the greatest wonder of the world.
“You make it sound so easy,” she said.
“Would you like to try again?” he asked, ignoring the fuzzy feeling filling his insides.
She nodded. She needed no further encouragement. Once again, she started to play.
This time, she closed her eyes, and he could tell that, this time, the music came from her heart.
She moved as one with the music, birthing it in the most glorious way he had ever heard. Soon, unable to resist any longer, he joined her, playing along.
They remained there the whole day, playing song after song, filling the estate with sweet melodies and their hearts with something more.
Chapter 16
The skies began to turn dark before Judith and Stephen realized how much time had gone by.
Judith was beyond awed to find they had shared such a lovely time, making harmonies. It was undoubtedly the best day she had had in a long time and was sad to see it end.
However, as he rose to his feet and offered her his hand, she could not help but wonder if this was indeed the end, or simply, the start of something else.
Something more.
Keeping these thoughts to herself, she took the hand he so graciously offered. When he declared his wish to escort her to her chambers, she accepted.
Side by side, they found their way through the quickly darkening hallways.
No word was said between them; none appeared to be needed.
Thankfully, the silence was not discomforting in any way. If anything, it helped Judith think.
All that time in Dunham, and it was the first day she had spent such ample hours with her host.
At first, she had been wary of him, uncertain about how to take his invitation to play.
However, as they began to play together, she found herself relaxing and enjoying the moment very much. Perhaps too much.
While she had cherished every minute, the events of the day left her more confused about the duke than ever before.
What kind of man was he, truly?
One moment, he was cold and distant. Another, he was harsh and rude. While she tried to contend with that, he suddenly became sweet and endearing.
All day, she had received only warmth and, dare she say, friendship? There had been a new amiableness to him.
They had shared an easy camaraderie, as though they had known each other all their lives.
It had felt so … right.
Still, despite the cheer of the day and its loveliness, she had not failed to notice that he did not smile at her or, at least, would not.
Once or twice, she had thought he would, hoped for it even, but he always managed to catch himself before it fully formed across his lips.
She let slip a small sigh. Why did this man confuse her so? She soon came to the realization that she was beginning to confuse herself as well. She had felt …things … while they had been together in the music room. As they walked, she felt them still.
Stirrings inside of her, longings even. They were strange and new, unlike anything she had ever known, and she did not know what to make of them.
Sometimes, her heart grew so warm. Other times, it was as though her spirits were lifting.
When his fingers had mistakenly brushed over hers a few times, her stomach had trembled, buzzing with a thousand tiny flutters.
Why him?
Granted, she had lived a very sheltered life in Charleveaux and had scarcely met many gentlemen. Nevertheless, the duke was not the only gentleman whose company she had ever been in. He was not even the only young man in Dunham.
There was Roy, and the other manservants. None of them made her feel the way the duke did.
What was she to make of this? The one man who remained a mystery to her, an enigma, was the one who awakened things in her she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling.
Even in that moment, she could sense his presence by her side. Strong, dauntless, striking. It was impossible to ignore the fact that he was walking there with her.
His scent filled her nostrils. They made her think of woods and tea, and earth after a night of rain. She hadn’t realized she favored those scents until then.
As the doors of her chamber came into sight, Judith felt a wave of relief wash over her. Perhaps, being away from him would help her think straight.
They drew to a stop just outside her door and turned to face one another.
“I suppose I shall see you at dinner…?” she asked hesitantly.
“I cannot say for sure. However, if I do decide to join you and Miss Mitchell, I will be certain to send word beforehand.”
She bowed her head. “We shall see, then.”
“Yes,” he answered. “We shall.”
Silence returned, lasting a moment too long. She could tell he was struggling with words. She was not quite certain she could trust herself to speak either.
Finally, he broke the spell. “My lady.”
Her brow raised as he stretched out his hand, palm upturned. It took her a minute to realize what he wanted. As she did, awe filled her yet again.
It appeared the duke was full of surprises.
Swiftly, she placed her hand in his, and he bowed to place a kiss upon it.
The moment his lips touched her skin, she froze. Her eyes fluttered closed as her head began to spin. It was through sheer willpower that she did not wobble as she felt her knees grow weak.
How could a kiss so small affect one so?
Eventually, he rose, releasing her hand. When he would have held her gaze, she looked away, unable to look him in the eye.
She did not trust herself to hide the myriad of emotions warring inside her. She did not want him to see what he did to her.
“It was a pleasure, spending time with you, Lady Judith. It is easily the best day I have had in years. Thank you for your sweet c
ompany. If we do not meet at dinner, then I suppose this is goodnight.”
Her entire body thrummed as a strange sensation flowed through her nerves. It was everything about him, especially that voice. It was different tonight; it made her think of silk dipped in honey.
