by Sy Walker
“Where did you learn to play like that?” he asked. His voice lacked any malice or suspicion. Instead, it was the conversation of one musician glad to be speaking about his craft with another.
“I have not a clue how to explain it,” she said, not sure how to begin to tell him of the years she had dedicated to the craft, and unable to lie to him about her love and hard work.
“Did you write that piece of music?” he asked, leaning in as he spoke.
“Yes, it is my own. I just played what came to me in the moment. I enjoy the feeling of music when it comes naturally,” she said, smiling again at the memory of the emotion coursing through her as she played.
“If that is what is inside of you, you are a complex and intriguing creature,” he said, his voice full of admiration.
“For a drifter, you mean,” she said with a playful smirk.
“Perhaps I misjudged you,” he admitted in a tone barely above a whisper. She was not sure whether he was speaking to her or whether the words were meant for himself. His eyes were locked on hers and he seemed to be seeing her truly for the first time and it terrified her. She could not allow him to see her true self. It put her in danger, no matter how appealing it was to allow herself to give in to the connection that she felt beginning between them.
“Perhaps you did. I hear your mother and sister. I should go and wish them good morning,” she said as she rose and left him once again staring after her. Jillian had needed to leave immediately. The moment had been to intimate. With him staring into her eyes, the temptation was too great to bare her soul to him with her words as she had with her music.
Chapter 5
It took all of Jill’s self-control to keep from running back to the music room. Pulling herself away from Gareth in that moment was truly one of the most difficult things she had ever done. It was made easier when she caught sight of the Duchess in the home’s entry way.
“Jillian,” she cried with a warm smile, happy to see her up and about.
“Good morning, Duchess,” she replied, relieved to see her. She needed a distraction to keep the feelings that she had about Gareth from her mind.
“Please call me Patrice,” she said sternly.
“Alright Patrice,” she conceded. It was only then that she noticed an army of servants carrying in boxes from the carriage outside. There were boxes and packages of every shape and size. Gabby, standing behind her mother, was clearly excited.
“I hope you do not mind, but Gabby and I selected a few things for you at the store earlier. I am having the maid unpack them now. I apologize for the limited selection. We have to work within what they had on the rack. My seamstress will fit them for you if needed,” she said as casually as though she were telling her she had grabbed her a cup of coffee or a sandwich.
“That is too much. I cannot allow you to do that for me,” she answered, horrified at herself for allowing these kind people to go so far out of her way for her while she was hiding her true self away from them.
“Nonsense, we really have plenty of resources. Let us help you,” Gabby said, looking over joyed to have been able to spend the day shopping for Jillian as though she was a living doll.
“I appreciate your kindness and generosity more than you will ever know, but I cannot. I will be the woman your son thinks I am if I allow you to spend such money on me,” she said, her eyes locked with the Duchess. The woman had to know that her son had his suspicions and something like this would only make him more certain that she was taking advantage of them.
“My girl, I am an excellent judge of people. My son is not. I know that you are very alone in this world, and I know that you would not harm us for anything in this world. Let us help you,” she said, taking Jill’s hand in her own. Though she was sure that the Duchess could not know the truth of what had happened, something her eyes told Jillian that she understood more that either Jillian or Gareth did about the situation that they were all in.
“Thank you,” she said simply. There was nothing else that she could say. She had no resources of her own and no connections at all to speak of. She had dressed herself that morning in the same dress that she had borrowed the day before, something the Duchess and Gabby were kind enough not to point out. She was skilled enough at doing her own hair for her performances that she had managed to pin it up, though it was nowhere near as fashionable a job as the Duchess’s maid had done the day before. If she was going to survive in this time until she could her way home, she was going to need their help. She could no longer deny that.
“There, there my girl, you are safe with us,” she said as she wrapped a comforting arm around Jillian. “Rest now. We have secured a box at the theater tonight. I thought it might be just the thing to cheer you up after I saw your reaction to Gareth's playing yesterday,” she said with an encouraging smile.
“Oh thank you so much,” she gasped, too pleased at the thought of seeing live music to hide it.
“He plays well, does he not?” Patrice asked; a twinkle in her eye very similar to her son’s.
“Yes he does,” Jillian admitted, thinking back to the skill with which he played.
“It used to make him so happy but now I think it only torments him,” the Duchess continued, looking concerned as only a mother could.
“I do not understand,” Jillian answered. She had noticed it, of course, but she had no explanation for the pain that came through in his music.
“He used to write all of his songs for a girl he thought he loved,” she answered, shaking her head in disappointment at the memory.
“Thought he loved?” Jillian asked, unsure how else to respond to what his mother had just told her.
“He was too young to know what real love was. She was just a pretty girl who was too afraid of her controlling mother to do anything but flatter a future duke,” the older woman said, her voice seething with anger much in the same way her son’s had when he had the day before when he spoke to her.
“Oh no,” she gasped, trying to imagine the sullen man that she had come to know as a young man in love.
“Yes but it did break his heart when she ran off with the barrister she was really in love with. She used him as a distraction for her mother. He never suspected that she did not return his affection. He was too blinded by her pretty face and sweet words to see that her heart was not true,” she continued, her eyes dark with past anger.
“That must have been terrible,” Jillian answered, though she could not imagine why his mother was telling her all of this. Clearly, it was a painful time for him if it had been a powerful enough hurt to taint his music for him. It was obviously not something that he would not want anyone, especially her, to know.
“Yes perhaps it was but he was very young and it was for the best. Marrying some little fool with a pleasant face would have been the real tragedy. Now though, he has come in to his title and it is time for him to heal and move on with his life,” she explained, her smile a calculating one.
“Why are you telling me this?” Jillian asked, unable to keep the words from escaping her lips.
“Oh, just the ramblings of an old woman,” she said with an innocent look on her face. “Pay me no attention. The seamstress will be up shortly to prepare your gown for this evening.”
“Thank you,” Jillian said, her thoughts swirling with thoughts of all that Patrice had told her.
“I will see you soon my dear,” she said as she shooed Jillian up to her room.
When Jill returned to her room, she was shocked. There was a maid unpacking dress after dress in to the wardrobe in her room. Her vanity was covered in accessories of every kind. Hats, gloves, pins, lace, and slippers were stacked so high that she was afraid that they might fall over. She was so overwhelmed that all she could do was sink in to the closest chair. Cleary, the Duchess and Gabby had had quite the shopping trip. She racked her brain to think of a way that she could repair their kindness, but nothing came to mind that would even come close to expressing how grateful she
was for them.
Chapter 6
Hours later, the Duchess was in the entry way, sending a footman out to bring around the carriage when Gareth entered the room.
“Gareth, why are you not dressed for the theater?” she asked, clearly displeased that he was still wearing the same clothing that he had been earlier in the day.
“I am not going,” he said simply. He rarely went to social settings, and his mother knew it. He had no plans to change that.
“Yes you are,” his mother said sternly.
“I have no desire to,” he argued. In truth, he loved to go to the theater. He always had. Since his heart was broken so fully, though, he had refused to attend. The young girl he had loved so dearly had enjoyed the theater greatly as it was the perfect venue to parade around and be admired by all in attendance. He was lost in thoughts of his younger self and the pain he had felt when he heart footsteps upon the stairs.
The Duchess and Gareth both turned then to see Jillian descending the stairs. Patrice had selected a silver gown for her, so deep in tone that it looked as though she was wrapped in moonlight. With her fair skin and hair, she looked as if she was an angel walking among them. Gareth could not take his eyes off of her and his mother watched him with a look of satisfaction on her face.
“I knew that color would suite you!” she gushed as she took in all the details of Jillian’s appearance. Luckily, the dress had been ordered by another lady who had never returned for it. Otherwise, such a fine dress would never have been available on such short notice. It had even been quite close to her own size, with the seamstress only needed to let the hem out a bit to make it perfect for the evening. It was complimented with a deep blue wrap and matching silk slippers. Never in Jillian’s life had she worn such finery and it made her quite uncomfortable.
“Thank you so much for all of this,” she said gently, curtsying to the Duchess and to Gareth. She was very grateful that her manager had insisted that she learn the proper way for her time in Europe in case she was to meet any royalty in her travels.
“It is nothing my girl,” Patrice said, waving her hand dismissively.
“Oh Jillian, you look beautiful. Mother is letting me go tonight. Oh I am so excited,” Gabby cried as she rushed down the stairs behind Jillian. Her pink dress looked lovely and quite appropriate for her age and the joy on her face made her shine.
“Well, we have the whole box and this is a special night. Go and fetch your wrap,” Patrice said with an indulgent smile.
“Yes mother,” Gabby said with a knowing smile as she ran off to her room to gather her lace wrap. To everyone’s surprise, Gareth followed her up the stairs.
“Gareth, where are you going?” his mother asked, looking slyly at her son.
“To dress for the theater of course,” he said without looking back down at the ladies.
He returned nearly as quickly as Gabby did, cutting a dashing figure in all black. His eyes locked on Jillian from the moment that he returned to the entry way. The draw of his gaze was enough to take her breath away. The feeling only grew in intensity as he offered her his hand and helped her in to the carriage.
When they arrived at the theater, they went directly to their box. They did not make the social rounds that were customary, primarily out of respect to Jillian and her odd circumstances. While the girl that he had loved when he was young would have balked at that, Jill was grateful. When they reached their box, she tucked herself in a corner seat, giving her a perfect view of the stage, but shielding her from the eyes of the other theater goers. He took the seat beside her, just as eager as her to avoid the prying eyes that surrounded them.
Once the music began, she was enraptured by the performance, but Gareth was enraptured by her. He watched her intently as she reacted to the music. When she felt his eyes upon her, she turned to face him. When their eyes met, Jillian felt as though her skin was a flame. There, in the darkness of the theater, surrounded by the music that they both loved so much, it felt to her as though they were the only people on the world. The feeling was both intoxicating and terrifying. Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand in hers. Even through her glove, she could feel the current of electricity. Whatever was to come, she knew that things between them would not be the same after that.
Chapter 7
When they returned to the house, everyone returned to their respective rooms because of the lateness of the evening, but Jillian had sent away the maid who came to help her out of her dress. She was too enraptured by the magic of the evening to allow it to end. Once she was sure that enough time had passed, she left her room quietly and went to the music room, hoping to have some time alone to play. Instead, she found Gareth already seated at the piano.
“I hope I did not wake you,” he said, having discarded his jacket and loosened his tie.
“No, I was too excited from the performance this evening to sleep,” she said, frozen just inside the doorway.
“As was I. It had been ages since I have gone out to the theater,” he answered, looking more relaxed than she had ever seen him.
“The music was beautiful,” she said.
“It was not the only thing that was beautiful tonight,” he said as he rose from the piano and closed the distance between them.
“What are you saying? You thought I was a swindler only days ago,” she said dismissively, taking a step away from him. He perused her though, unwilling to let the moment pass them by,
“That was before I heard you play. No one with darkness in their heart could play so divinely,” he said as he reached up and placed his hand gently on her cheek.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning in to his touch instinctually.
“Will you play with me?” he asked, taking her hand in his. She had shed her gloves and the feeling of his skin against hers was enough to send her head spinning.
“Are you not afraid we will wake your family?” she asked, feeling her will to stay away from him crumbling.
“They never wake to my playing. The walls of this room are quite soundproof. Mother made sure of it when I was young,” he said as he pulled her gently towards the piano.
“Alright, I will play with you,” she whispered.
They both sat on the bench their sides pressed against each other. Rather than playing the piece he had been working on, he began to play from instinct, and she soon followed. The music that came forth was the most beautiful that Jillian had ever played or heard. Without speaking, they knew instinctively what the other would do. When they finally finished, they both turned to stare at each other in amazement, breathless.
“That was amazing,” she whispered in awe.
“Yes, it was,” he said as his hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her to him. As his lips crashed down on hers, she could not imagine a more perfect moment. He kissed her with need and desire like she had never experienced before and she moaned in disappointment when he finally pulled his lips away from her.
“So was that,” she said as she rested her forehead against his.
“Yes, it was,” he said with a wicked smile.
“What are we doing?” she asked, realizing what she was doing. He was a man who had been hurt deeply before and she was setting him up for the same kind of hurt again. No matter what she felt for him, she could not stay in this time and she could not bear to hurt him.
“I have no idea,” he said, not sure what had changed.
“I have to go,” she said, standing up abruptly.
“Wait,” he said as he stood.
“No, I have to go,” she cried as she rushed from the room, angry at herself for getting so lost in her emotions. She had spent years honing her discipline and it was more important now than ever before. She thought that once she reached her room, she would be safe but Gareth had other ideas. He threw open the door and followed her in, unwilling to let the first light he had felt in years slip through his fingers.
“We need to talk,” he whispered sternly, trying to ke
ep from waking the whole household.
“About what?” she asked, trying to keep him from realizing just how effected she was by the moment they had just shared.
“About what just happened down there,” he said, unashamed of his own feeling.
“What do you mean?” she asked, beginning to pace back and forth.
“Do not play dumb with me. You felt it too,” he accused, going to her and pulling her in to his arms. She all too willingly, needing to feel his strength surround her.
“I felt it,” she admitted, leaning in to him as she spoke and wrapping her arms around his waist.
“I have not felt such joy while playing in a very long time,” he admitted, resting his cheek on top of her head as he savored the feeling of holding her so close.