The Melody of A Lady's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Aria Norton

  Helena and Nathaniel continued to discuss their thoughts, opinions and favourites on musicians, composers, and operas, both settling into armchairs. It was only when a knock sounded on the door that she looked at the time and realised that they had gone over the lesson time.

  “Come in!” she called out, somewhat annoyed by the interruption.

  Rose peeked around the door. “Forgive the interruption, but I have come to inform Monsieur Baudelaire that his horses are ready.”

  Nathaniel looked confused as he took out his pocket watch, his eyes widening at the time. He stood up quickly, looking around the room a tad bewildered.

  “It seems that time has run away with us, Lady Barclay. I must go. Good day.”

  Nathaniel gave a short bow before leaving the room much to her disappointment. Helena wished for at least another hour with him, but that was probably asking too much. How odd. I have never wished for the presence of any man beyond Papa. Helena actually forgot that Rose was still standing by the door until the woman cleared her throat. Colouring slightly, Helena got to her feet, packing her violin away.

  “Are we not going to discuss what happened here?” Rose asked.

  Sometimes having a perceptive friend was problematic. Helena didn't want to talk about anything just yet; she still needed to think about this afternoon during some quiet time.

  “Nosey people seldom have their noses for long,” she said.

  Rose barked out a laugh. “Very well. I suppose I'll have to wait.”

  When Helena said nothing, Rose left, still laughing. Alone, Helena thought about what it was about Nathaniel that was so different from other men.

  “Perhaps 'tis because I have had to work harder to delve into his mind.”

  She would likely tire of him as soon as she achieved her goal of having him play for her again. Somehow, Helena didn't think so.

  Chapter 12

  Would it seem odd if he added a little brandy to his tea? Nathaniel felt the need to give his mind a breather from all the over-thinking he had done in weeks past. It was still morning, but a cap full of brandy shouldn't raise any eyebrows.

  "I just need a moment of peace."

  "Talking to yourself, I see."

  Nathaniel looked up from his desk, surprised so see his best friend leaning against the door frame.

  "Christopher! When did you get back? I thought you were still in Austria."

  The man grimaced. "Let's just say that things didn't go too well over there. Why are you talking to yourself?"

  Christopher walked into the study, giving Nathaniel a half embrace before pulling up a chair. Nathaniel was torn between keeping his troubles to himself or offloading them on someone else for instant relief. Perhaps I need a little perspective.

  "It's one of my students," he admitted. "She is causing me a fair bit of turmoil."

  Christopher's eyebrows rose. "She? Since when do you have female students?"

  "Since several weeks ago. And before you ask, I didn't have much of a choice. Monsieur Debussy said in no uncertain terms that my job depended on it. I had half a mind to tell him to keep his job and walk out of his office, but that was not an option."

  Christopher whistled low. "The woman must be rich. Debussy would never take one of his best teachers to instruct a woman. He's as male entitled as one can get."

  "Precisely. Beatrix was only offered a position after I pointed out that the school would do well to include a class where women can learn the harp from a professional."

  It had taken a lot of convincing after Nathaniel had discovered that some parents would allow their daughters to learn the harp. He had not known Beatrix then, but mutual friends had led him to her. Beatrix's skill with the harp was praiseworthy, but she lacked heart. That's one thing Helena does not lack.

  "Who is this woman? Do I know her?"

  "Possibly, although it's her parents you're more likely to know about. I'm tutoring Lord and Lady Pembroke's daughter."

  Christopher sat up straighter. "England's beloved Earl? That man is wealthier than most! How on earth did you come to tutor his daughter? It all seems rather unusual that you who dislike aristocrats more than anyone I know would come to teach one of the richest heiresses on this continent."

  Was Nathaniel the only one who didn't know who Lord Pembroke was? It appeared so.

  "I wasn't aware of the man or his daughter at first. Even after hearing the name at the opera, I still didn't remember Helena was their daughter. I only put two and two together after I walked into their home and discovered that she was my student."

  "Wait just a moment there," said Christopher holding his palms out. "I feel as though I am missing some crucial information. What's this about an opera? And are you on a first-name basis with such an influential young woman? I never thought that you of all people would willingly become familiar with a woman of her class."

  Nathaniel sighed heavily, leaning his head back. Where on earth to start? Christopher had been in Austria for several months and had no clue about his temporary position in an orchestra, his first meeting with Helena, or his troubling feelings concerning her.

  "That bad?" said Christopher. "I suppose I picked a fine time to run after a woman only to get my heart broken in Austria."

  Nathaniel dropped his head back into place quickly. "You followed a woman to Austria? You didn't tell me any of this."

  Christopher scratched behind his ear, keeping his gaze averted. He told me he was going on a business trip to find partners for his new venture. I know nothing about a woman.

  "Well, won't you say anything? How did a business trip turn into running after a woman and having your heart broken?"

  Nathaniel's friend slowly turned to him, a sheepish look on his face. "Well, it wasn't exactly planned. It all just happened."

  Christopher had never been one to simply do things without thinking it through. He was a practical man who enjoyed routine and order. This didn't sound like him at all.

  "I don't understand what you're telling me. Who is the woman? Do I know her?"

  Christopher mumbled something, but all Nathaniel heard was garbled speech. This is out of character. Now I have to hear what this is all about.

  "I didn't catch that," said Nathaniel. "Who did you say the woman was?"

  "Maria."

  The only Maria Nathaniel knew was a widow who was at least ten years their senior. No, that cannot be the woman. Maria Van Dyke was a temptress of the highest degree and was rumoured to have done away with her own husband. Nathaniel didn't believe that, but she was rather notorious in England.

  "I don't think I know this Maria. What's her last name?"

  "Van Dyke."

  Nathaniel's jaw dropped. "You lie! Mrs Maria Van Dyke? How? When? You didn't say a word!"

  "This is precisely why!" Christopher defended. "Look at your reaction right now. Imagine I had told you that I had fallen in love with Maria and I'm following her to Austria? You would have tried to dissuade me."

  "Of course, I would have! The woman is far too worldly and cunning for you. I cannot believe that you developed feelings for her. When did this take place? It had to have been under cover of darkness because I did not suspect a thing."

  Christopher roughly passed a hand over his face. "It didn't work out-, that's all you have to know. I was a fool to follow her, and now I wish to put it all behind me. I would rather hear about what is ailing you at this moment. You seemed firmly under the hatches when I first clapped eyes on you. What has this Helena done to trouble you?"

  Nathaniel had half a mind to press his friend about this shocking revelation of his dalliance with the widow, but Christopher evidently was not ready to divulge that information just yet.

  "You will have to tell me about your relationship at some point, but I shall push the matter to the side for now. I do feel the need to get this matter of Helena off my chest."

  "Start from the very beginning," Christopher insisted. "I do not want to miss a single detail. This story seems inte
resting, indeed."

  Nathaniel hesitated just a moment before he began his story at the opera. He was careful to leave out the feeling of awe he had had during his very first interaction with Helena. I don't want Christopher getting the wrong idea. He'll believe that I carry a tender for the woman, which is simply impossible. I loathe the aristocrats! I can never fall in love with one.

  Nathaniel got to the point where he realised that the woman at the opera and his student were one and the same. Christopher suddenly laughed, slapping his thigh repeatedly.

  "You mean to tell me that you had absolutely no clue that the Pembroke of the opera is the very same one Debussy mentioned? That's unlike you to forget such details. I wish I had seen your face when you saw Helena for the second time."

  Nathaniel pursed his lips. "I'm glad that you find such amusement in this matter. It's hardly a laughing matter to me. The woman is a menace!"

  Leaning forward, Christopher wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes before folding his arms on the desk.

  "Go on, finish your story," he urged.

  Nathaniel continued with the account of his lessons with Helena ending with the most recent one. Finally done, he sat back in his chair and waited for Christopher to give his opinion.

  "Seems to me that this woman has done nothing but be nice to you," the man commented. "I have yet to hear anything to cause me to dislike her."

  That was just the problem, wasn't it? Helena had done absolutely nothing to make Nathaniel dislike her beyond being an aristocrat. He was undoubtedly on a slippery slope where she was concerned, and he was heading downhill fast.

  "You know how I feel about her kind of people. They're all the same, and nothing can make me think otherwise. I just don't understand her."

  Helena was a colourful woman, and one couldn't help but wish to be in her world of positivity. Nathaniel was willingly being drawn into her world of joyful living and was finding her increasingly captivating as the weeks passed. It wasn't just her beauty, although that was cause enough, but her character. She's either a really good pretender, or she is genuinely kind and cheerful.

  "What if she's different?" Christopher asked.

  Indeed. What if she was different? "Her beliefs about the world around her seem far different from the norm, and yet by birth, she represents all that I have worked to keep away from for most of my life."

  Nathaniel had seen her kindness to those of lesser status and had witnessed how much the servants loved her. Helena clearly respected the working class and never lorded her position above them. And yet, whenever Nathaniel thought about what his mother had to suffer from Helena's kind, he felt that he couldn't trust the woman. My mother was fooled by an aristocrat. Who is to say that I will not be fooled as well?

  "I don't think it fair to judge her on your past experiences, my dear fellow," Christopher reasoned. "Helena seems a lovely woman."

  "The operative word here is 'seems'. She seems good and kind, but is she? What if inside all that cheerful exterior is a woman who looks down her nose at people below her?"

  Christopher shook his head. "I do not think any woman can pretend to be this nice all the time. They are bound to show their true colours, and yet Helena hasn't. Could it be that she is simply different from the rest?"

  Helena was certainly nothing like the image Nathaniel had had in his head about aristocrats. Even when he had plied her with theory and other tedious work, she had not complained once. Yes, she continued to pester him about playing for her, but other than that she was perfectly fine. Could she be different from the rest?

  Nathaniel didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at, but Helena had asked him to look out of the window and tell her what he saw.

  "I guess I'm looking at a bunch of trees," he said uncertainly.

  "Look up higher," she commanded.

  He did so, still confused. "A blue sky?"

  "Precisely. A clear blue sky. Why on earth are we having a lesson inside when the weather is perfect outside? I'm confident I can play outside as well as I can inside. Today is only a practical lesson, yes?"

  The lesson was whatever she made it out to be. Helena was a law unto herself and often changed the format of his lesson plan. Surprisingly, Nathaniel let her do it.

  "I don't want nature distracting you," he reasoned. "I would like to at least complete three-quarters of this lesson today."

  "Which you will do. Imagine how much faster I shall be outside in the fresh air? We can sit in the garden."

  If Nathaniel said no, Helena would probably give him a disappointed look and make him feel like a cad. But if he said yes, then he might as well give up control. How has it come to this? At what point did I start to give in to her requests and treat her differently? It all started with that blasted day when he heard Helena play the pianoforte. Since then, his resolve to remain cold and indifferent was near non-existent. These days they seemed to do more talking and less work despite his best intentions. Helena need only lead the topic off the conversation to get them started on something far removed from what they were supposed to be doing. I have to somehow put a stop to this.

  "Your parents are paying me to tutor you, Lady Barclay. What will they think when they see me frolicking about in the garden?"

  "They will think that you are versatile and not at all stuffy like most tutors. Besides, they will likely know that I insisted we sit in the garden. I enjoy being around nature- I find it inspiring, but not as inspiring as listening to you play the violin."

  There she went again. Helena had not ceased to ask or hint at him to play the violin for her. I've never met a more tenacious and stubborn woman. No matter how many times I turn her down, she doesn't give up. How was a man supposed to deal with a woman like this? I warrant you don't deal with Helena, you simply let her be.

  "Very well, we can resume our lesson in the garden. Promise me that we will complete most of the lesson for today."

  Helena crossed her heart, grinning. "I give you my word, Monsieur Baudelaire."

  "Then, by all means, lead the way."

  Helena jumped off her stool, bolting out of the room with her violin in hand as though she were worried Nathaniel might change his mind. She would probably talk me out of changing my mind. The woman has a silver tongue.

  Following behind her, he couldn't help but notice a new painting he had not seen before. The house seemed to be full of pictures of landscapes, people, and blobs of colour that had neither shape nor form. Oddly, the paintings were not signed.

  "What do you think about it?" came Helena's voice at his left ear.

  Nathaniel tilted his head, admiring the movement the brush strokes had created, and the incredible use of colour. It was exquisite, really.

  "This painter is talented. I wouldn't mind having one of his works in my own home one day. He hasn't signed his name. Do you perhaps know who he is?"

  A slow smile spread across Helena's face. "Indeed, I do know the artist. In fact, I know him personally. Would you like to see some of his other works? They are in the attic."

  Why on earth would anyone put such valuable pieces in the attic? It was bizarre, to say the least. Still, they had a lesson to complete.

  "Perhaps another time, Lady Barclay."

  "Oh, but it won't take too long at all, Monsieur Baudelaire. The attic is but a few steps away from us. Surely we can take a quick look?"