by Aria Norton
“I suppose it's flattering that she wishes to be like me.”
Helena looked up, to which he raised his eyebrows. “Is there something the matter?”
“No, sir.”
The woman looked down, giving a slight shake of her head. She could hear him speaking, but he wasn't talking loudly so she couldn't listen to what he was saying. That must annoy her. I wish she knew how much she has annoyed me! There hadn't been a day that passed where Nathaniel had not thought about Helena. I have never thought about Beatrix in this way. It was wrong, so wrong.
“I don't know what it is about you that sticks in my head. You're just another aristocrat.”
This time Helena didn't look up but continued to write. The poor woman was going to write until she grew tired of it.
“You almost made a fool of me today. Almost.”
Nathaniel had not known what to expect about his student, and he had imagined all sorts of scenarios on the way to Barclay Manor. He had imagined the woman's age, physical appearance, attitude, and academic aptitude. By the time Nathaniel reached the house, he had come up with the image of a sixteen-year-old woman with dark brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, rude and with mediocre academic aptitude. Imagine Nathaniel's surprise when he had walked into the hallway and saw Helena?
“She is nothing compared to what I had anticipated.”
Today, Nathaniel could see that her golden hair was wavy despite the manipulated curls in the front. I imagine her hair must be glorious when she takes it down. Beatrix has yellow hair, but it is straighter and does not shine as much as Helena's. Nathaniel had always believed that blue eyes were beautiful, but now he had to begrudgingly accept that brown eyes with flecks of gold were just as attractive.
He had not noticed that Helena had a faint smattering of freckles across her nose. In the natural light of the music room, they were rather obvious, but instead of taking away from her beauty, they added to her charm. That didn't seem fair to him. Other women who were unfortunate enough to have freckles often hid them behind layers of creams and refused to go outside into the sun, but Nathaniel had a feeling that Helena was not afraid of the sun.
“What makes you so different from the rest?”
It was pure discipline and self-control that had helped Nathaniel get over his initial surprise of discovering that Helena was his student. He might have made a fool of himself if he had failed to rein in his natural reaction. Nathaniel had had to remind himself that he was above the lure of physical beauty. This was the trap that lesser men fell into, but not him.
However, telling himself that he had not been just a tad sucked in by her exuberant personality would be a lie. Nothing he said or did had taken away from her cheerfulness. Nathaniel recalled how overawed he had been in her presence after the performance. Light had seemed to emanate from her, and her very voice had carried with it a million trickling streams. Melodious was the word.
“I wasn't able to keep a calm composure them, but I will not be fooled again.”
It would be better for Nathaniel's peace of mind if he could end this lesson sooner rather than later. However, he was being paid for an hour, and this woman likely knew that. I wouldn't put it past her to complain to her father that I left several minutes before the lesson was due to end. Helena didn't seem like that kind of woman, but it helped to think so.
“I don't need to have any kind thoughts about you.”
Nathaniel watched the woman place the quill between her teeth, deep in thought. I find myself wanting to know what she's thinking about. I shouldn't care, but I do. There seemed to be a significant disparity between what he wanted and what he didn't want concerning this woman. I have never been so divided in my life! And what of the gift she had given him? It was clear that she had put much thought into it. Nathaniel could not imagine an aristocrat giving a gift to their tutor, but Helena had. He suspected that she had done it to gain favour with him, and it had worked for a little while. The journal was the perfect medium to put down all his music and keep it in one place. Presently, he had papers scattered about his house with all his music on them. Perhaps he could somehow incorporate those into this journal. Even the quill, which was well-made, would come in handy.
Nathaniel had somewhat begrudgingly softened towards Helena, but when she had pulled out her violin... well. Nathaniel had seen red. The woman had actually rendered him speechless for a few seconds!
“You don't even realise what you have in your possession, do you?”
Some violinists would never have the means to buy such a highly appraised instrument. The violin Helena had was the best of the best, the cream of the crop. You had to have a sizeable fortune to be able to buy it, and even then, it was not easy to get hold of. Sometimes, one had to wait months before the violin could become available again. Nathaniel had a second-hand one from his uncle, but he cherished it as though it was new.
“Monsieur Baudelaire, I have completed writing out the notes of each string one hundred times.”
Already? Nathaniel had hoped the ridiculous task would last right up until the end of the lesson. How much time did he have left? Checking his pocket watch, he grimaced. Twenty-minutes. I feel that I have been here at least two hours already.
“Very good. Now, I wish you to write out each part of the violin one hundred times. They are- now write this down, Lady Barclay.”
“Yes, sir.”
"Very good," Nathaniel smiled almost wickedly. "The parts are as follows: the scroll, peg, pegbox, nut, neck, fingerboard, upper bout, strings, centre bout, F-holes, fine tuners, tailpiece, lower bout, and button. Once you're done with that, I will give you the parts of the bow."
“Monsieur Baudelaire,” said Helena. “Would this not stick in my head better if you were to show me the parts on an actual violin? I could just fetch it-”
“NO!” Nathaniel answered, rather too forcefully. “That is not how it works. You have to do as I say, or do you wish to be the tutor?”
Nathaniel was behaving harsher than necessary, but just the thought of Helena bringing him such a sacred instrument without the least respect for what she held in her hands angered him. It was just like the aristocrats to lord their power and money over others, and this blatant flaunting was enough to make Nathaniel want to make all her lessons as difficult and tiresome as possible. Helena wasn't getting anywhere near her violin.
“My apologies, sir. I did not mean to imply that I know better than you,” Helena replied, her voice even. “I only thought that a practical teaching might be better.”
“You thought wrong. There is no need to worry about the violin just yet. Focus on the theory, and perhaps when I feel that you have sufficiently progressed, we might move on to the instrument.”
Nathaniel was lying through his teeth. There was absolutely no way that Helena was going to learn how to play the violin. She would get sick of theory and give up well before he grew tired of giving her theory. I can just stand here the entire hour and have her repeatedly write things out. I have all the patience in the world. The question was, would she?
Much to his chagrin, Helena smiled. “Yes, of course, sir. You know what is best. I feel honoured to be here under your tutelage. Perhaps, one day I will be able to play even a fraction of your great ability.”
Nathaniel couldn't help his chuckle. “Now, now, Lady Barclay. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, yes? One thing at a time.”
“Did you have to learn this much theory, sir?”
No, he most certainly did not. The skill had come first, and the knowledge later. Nathaniel had not known every part of the violin at first and had simply called it a body with strings. He had even called the bow a fiddle. If I tell her this, she might complain to her father and say that I am giving her unnecessary work. It undoubtedly was superfluous, but Helena didn't need to know that. I'm the boss here.
"Everyone must know the theory, Lady Barclay. How else are you to use the violin correctly? 'Tis not a toy you can play with whenever you like. Much res
pect must be given to the violin, and that is precisely what I am teaching. By the time we are done with theory, you will walk away with a new-found respect for the violin."
If Helena ever had respect for it in the first place. Nathaniel watched her clutch the wrist of her right hand, massaging it. Was it hurting? Was he pushing her too much?
“Would you like to take a break?” he asked before his mind could register the question.
Helena's eyes lit up. “If that is all right with you, sir. I would hate to cut into your time.”
“'Tis not my time, but yours. If you take a break, it will eat into the hour of your lesson.”
Nathaniel hoped that a break wouldn't entail her chatting away to him. Helena bit her bottom lip, gnawing at it with her teeth. What is she thinking about? It's either a yes or a no. She did look adorable doing that.
“I feel that we both need a break,” she finally said. “You have been on your feet for much of the lesson, and I have been sitting down. That hardly seems fair. Perhaps you would like to take a seat? You could even have mine.”
The woman stood up, but Nathaniel stopped her. "Please, sit down, Lady Barclay. There are plenty of other chairs in this room. I do not need to take yours."
An aristocrat offering him her seat? It was unheard of! What game was this woman playing?
“Yes, of course. Please, sit down, sir. Would you like me to summon a servant for some tea? You must be parched.”
Nathaniel was thirsty, but accepting Helena's hospitality was not on the cards for him. She will think that I'm softening towards her, and that couldn't be any further from the truth.
“I must decline the tea, but thank you for offering. Now, there is one other thing that I wish to discuss.”
Monsieur Debussy had not told him how many days a week to set aside for these lessons. Nathaniel hoped it would be one, perhaps two at the most. He had no wish to see the woman any more than that.
“Yes?”
"How many days a week do you require tutoring? I am rather busy," he quickly added, hoping to deter her. "Thus, it is imperative that I know today."
Helena bit her lip again. Nathaniel had come to realise that she did this whenever she was deep in thought.
“Well, I would not wish to take you away from whatever it is that you do, but I also wish to progress.”
Please do not say something like three days or more. You might as well string me up by my legs and drag me to my doom. Nathaniel couldn't imagine spending too much time with Helena. It wasn't so much about his annoyance, but the odd reactions he had to her. It was bad enough thinking about her every day without having to see her often. I might start to call her name out loud in my sleep! Beatrix would not be impressed to know that another woman had taken centre stage in his mind. Nathaniel was most assuredly an unwilling participant in his thoughts. He simply couldn't control them. There were times when he would pointedly think of something or someone else, but that would only work for a brief period. Before long, Helena would creep into his mind again and disturb Nathaniel's peace of mind.
“Would once a week, but two hours a lesson be acceptable to you?”
Once a week was fantastic! Nathaniel could have leapt from his chair in jubilation, but the second part of her suggestion kept his feet firmly on the ground. Two hours as opposed to one? A whole extra hour? It was bad enough keeping his composure right now without adding extra time. This is precisely what I was afraid of, but it could have been worse. She might as well have said two days.
“Yes, once a week for two hours it is.”
Helena's sudden smile was brilliant. “Excellent! I must tell you again that I am excited about this new adventure. It took some time to convince my parents that playing the violin is perfectly acceptable, but I know that they still have their doubts. Tell me, Monsieur Baudelaire, what is your opinion on female violinists? Do you think that women should not play the instrument?”
Nathaniel didn't expect Helena to ask him this. There are a great many things I do not expect from this woman. She continues to surprise me.
“Do you not believe the opinion of men to be valid?” Nathaniel countered.
"You are evading the question, sir. I wish to know your opinion. I have read somewhere that because the violin is compared to a feminine form, it should be played by a worshipful master. These seem rather contradictory to me. Why is an instrument worthy of being worshipped by a man, but a woman, which the violin is supposedly fashioned after, is treated like a second-class citizen? Now, that is not to say that all men treat women like this. My father adores my mother, and he has never made me feel that I am less worthy than a son. However, my father is a rare man. Tell me, what is your opinion?"
Nathaniel was decidedly taken aback by Helena's question. He had never heard this subject argued like this! Helena has a point, but to admit so might give her ground against me. Nathaniel was trying to deter the woman from playing, not encouraging her. I shall have to choose my words carefully.
“Why do you wish to play the violin, Lady Barclay? Is it because you wish to prove that you are as capable as any man, or have you been enticed by the supposedly sinful nature of the instrument?”
Helena gave a low chuckle, sitting back in her seat with her arms folded beneath her bosoms.
“Why do you persist in answering my questions with another question of your own? You appear to be avoiding my question.”
That was precisely what he was doing. This tactic had always worked on others, but this woman has seen right through me. This has never happened before. Nathaniel was beginning to realise that this woman was far sharper than he had initially given her credit for. Who are you, Helena Barclay? Why are you unlike any other woman I have ever known? Most importantly, why was he affected by her? I might as well answer her question because I will not get away with trying to influence her otherwise.
"If you must know, I have no other opinion on this topic other than the fact that music does not have a gender. Men and woman alike enjoy it, so why should there be restrictions?"
"Precisely!" Helena said with a clap. "I am so glad that you understand this. It is utterly nonsensical to pick and choose which instrument should be played by a specific gender. Why not allow people to choose? Tell me, Monsieur Baudelaire, do you know of any female violinists?"
“Frankly, no.”
Nathaniel glanced at his pocket watch, relieved when he saw that their time was up. Standing, he gave Helena a short bow.
"Will it be next week on the same day and at the same time, Lady Barclay?"
“Yes, sir. Please, do not forget your gift.” Helena jumped out of her chair, getting it for him. “I hope it is useful to you.”
Nathaniel thanked her and left the room, insisting that he could find his way to the front door. The less time he spent in her company, the better for him. But what about the next lesson? I'll just have to come with a plan to keep her so preoccupied that she cannot speak to me or ask me questions. On his way home, Nathaniel's mind worked on all the different ways he could make sure that Helena would give up. The sooner he removed her from his life, the sooner his life could go back to normal.
Chapter 9
If Helena had to write one more thing about how essential composers were to the classical world of music, she'll quite happily declare herself insane and go running off into the sunset with her imaginary unicorn. Nathaniel with his incessant need for theory was tearing the last thread on which her patience still held on.
No, long-suffering. Patience is waiting for something with a good attitude. Long-suffering, on the other hand, is enduring a bad situation or person with patience- big difference. She thought angrily to herself.