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

by Aria Norton

  Nathaniel got the feeling the man knew what heartbreak was. Had he also fallen in love, only to lose the woman?

  “I'm sorry as well.”

  Nathaniel turned away, taking several steps before he heard the butler call out to him. Stopping, he waited for the man to reach him.

  “Sir,” the man said slightly out of breath. “Lady Barclay always looks out at the stars at this time. If you walk a few paces to your left, you'll see a balcony. She'll be standing there.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  The man smiled sadly. “One should always help where true love is involved. Many of us go our whole lives never experiencing it. Others do but take it for granted. You seem like a good man, Monsieur Baudelaire. One last look at your lady will not hurt anyone.”

  Nathaniel thanked him and hurried to the precise spot the man had directed him to. At first, he couldn't see Helena and wondered if the man had gotten his timing wrong. Or perhaps she's not coming out tonight? Nathaniel spoke too soon. Helena walked out and lifted her face to the moon, the light illuminating her and giving her an ethereal glow.

  “Beautiful,” Nathaniel breathed.

  He was thankful for the cover of darkness, or he might not have been able to drink his fill of her. Although stunning, Nathaniel could see the misery on Helena's face.

  “I was a fool not to have seen it before,” he whispered to the night air.

  His own hurt and jealousy had prevented him from seeing that Helena had been suffering as well, shaming him.

  "I caused this through my own stupidity. I do not have the right to ask for Helena's forgiveness."

  Helena had been a victim of the situation, more so than him. Nathaniel could just imagine how confused and hurt she must have been.

  “I made everything worse by hinting that I shall marry Beatrix soon.”

  He winced, recalling the pain and surprise he had seen in her face. Nathaniel had not wanted to accept it for what it was back then, not when Luke had stood beside her as though she belonged to him.

  "This evening, I can see everything I have done to her, and I cannot take it."

  Nathaniel blinked when he felt a droplet fall on his eyes. Was it raining? No, that wasn't possible- there wasn't a stitch of clouds to be seen in the sky. Frowning, he looked up and noticed Helena's wet cheeks. Nathaniel felt his knees buckle, but he remained standing.

  “I cannot even go to her! I cannot comfort her!”

  He could do nothing, and it was all his fault. Nathaniel recalled the twinkle in her eyes, her bright smile, and merry laughter, and knew he would never see or hear them again. Gone was the woman who had taught him the joy of life. In her stead, was a woman he didn't recognise. What had he done?

  Nathaniel wasn't able to continue gazing at her. He stumbled away like a drunken man, hardly knowing which direction he was going in. Did it matter?

  Chapter 24

  Helena sampled a plump strawberry, giving a little squeal when it unexpectedly burst in her mouth.

  “Are you all right, dear?” her mother asked.

  Helena swallowed, reaching for another fruit. “Oh, yes, Mama. Rose has brought an excellent basket of fruits this time. They're so juicy and rich in flavour! I hardly bit into the strawberry before it burst in my mouth.”

  “I'm glad,” her mother replied. “I know how you enjoy your summer fruits. Have you tried the smoked ham yet? Cook said it's her best one yet.”

  “Are you trying to fatten me up for my wedding, Mama?” Helena smiled. “Usually, it's the other way around.”

  “You're perfect the way you are, darling. I wouldn't change a thing about you.”

  Helena's mother said it with such feeling Helena wondered if there was a hidden meaning to the frank words.

  "You do not seem to be eating," said Helena. "Do you expect me to eat everything? I can try, but I doubt I'll get very far. You've only had a cup of tea and a biscuit. If I didn't know any better, I would say you were nervous about something."

  Helena said it half in jest, half in sincerity. Something did appear to be plaguing her mother's mind, but the woman had yet to say anything. Perhaps it's one of those 'don't worry your head about it, dear' things. Helena's parents still treated her like a child at times, yet she was old enough to get married. This irony never ceased to amuse her.

  “I do have a lot on my mind, child,” her mother confessed. “But you're quite right. I should be eating a little more since I did not eat much at breakfast.”

  “I meant to ask you about that, Mama. Are you not feeling well? Perhaps you should spend the day lying down. I would hate for you to push yourself.”

  “That's not it, dear,” her mother assured. “Sometimes, when you have so much on your mind, normal things such as eating or cleaning one's teeth become secondary.”

  “Are you admitting you did not clean your teeth today?” Helena chuckled.

  “I might never clean my teeth again if it brings forth your laughter.”

  Helena's laughter died away. Why did her mother seem so morose? I always laugh, don't I? Yes, it may not be the belly-splitting laughter of before, but she always tells me to control myself. I'm doing everything my parents expect of me, so why do they not seem happier? Helena couldn't understand it.

  “Papa might protest if you do that, and you might lose all your teeth. Imagine having to eat mashed up food for the rest of your life?”

  “You're right,” her mother agreed with a laugh. “Your father might never kiss me again, and I'll never be able to sink my teeth into a lovely piece of roast meat. I'll clean my teeth as soon as we've had our tea.”

  As though for Helena's benefit, her mother put several slivers of meat on her plate. At least she is eating. They ate in silence for a moment or two, but Helena could see something was bothering her mother. Finally, with a sigh, Helena put her teacup down.

  “Are you going to tell me, or will you continue to look worried?”

  “What, dear?”

  “I can see the wheels turning in your mind, you know. Are you worried about the wedding? You shouldn't be. Lady Staten wishes to be a part of it from beginning to end as she has planned other weddings in the past for her daughters. She'll be a great help.”

  “Oh, darling, that's not it at all!” her mother suddenly cried.

  Helena pulled her head back at her mother's sudden outburst, not knowing what to make of it.

  “Mama? What is the matter?”

  “I simply must ask you about something, dear, and I need you to be completely honest with me.”

  “But I am always honest with you,” Helena protested. “When have I ever lied to you?”

  “Then you will tell me the truth when I ask if you're happy with Luke.”

  So this was what all the fuss was about. “Luke is a wonderful man, Mama. I know that he'll do everything to make me happy. I have nothing bad to say about him.”

  Her mother shook her head. “That's not what I asked, dear. I want to know if you're happy with him. Is he your first choice?”

  Helena thought about that carefully. Luke wasn't her first choice because she didn't love him, but he was the first man to ask her to marry him. She wouldn't be lying if she said yes.

  “Yes, he is my first choice. As I said, he's a good man.”

  Helena's mother sighed. “Are you saying this to please your father and I?”

  “You and Papa are part of the reason why I decided to accept Luke's proposal,” she said truthfully. “But you're not the only reason. Besides, you were right when you said I needed to grow up and settle down. I'm doing just that. Why? Aren't you happy?”

  Her mother smiled sadly. “We're happy if you're happy, child.”

  “Then it's settled. There's no more reason to worry, yes? Let's enjoy our tea while we still have time together. I'll be a married woman in a few months, and moments like these will become few and far between.”

  Her mother appeared to grow sadder. What on earth is the matter? I cannot understand what M
ama could be thinking. She should be happy about my wedding, for goodness, sakes! I will not confuse my children in this manner.

  “I don't hear you play the violin any more, dear. Have you given up on it?”

  It wasn't just the violin Helena had ceased to play, but the pianoforte and harp as well. Music was tied to Nathaniel, and she didn't want to be reminded of him.

  “A woman is taught music to attract a suitor, but now I am betrothed. I no longer have a need to play any musical instrument.”

  “But you love music!”

  “I used to,” Helena corrected. “I do not care for it any more.”

  “That's a shame.”

  No, it wasn't. It was survival. “Do not feel terrible about it, Mama. I'll be married soon, and that is the goal of every woman.”

  “You never used to think so.”

  No, she hadn't. In fact, Helena used to fight against the thought of getting married simply because she was a woman. She always believed love should be the determining factor, not duty.

  "I have grown up and seen the merit in following the ways of our society. A woman is to be docile, meek, quiet, submissive, respectful, and respected by all. She must always remember that she represents her husband and must never bring him shame. A woman must know her place in the household, and support her husband in all he does’ whether she agrees with it or not. Her opinions do not matter in light of her husband's. A wife must bear an heir for her husband, or she will have failed. Marriage is not about love, but fulfilling a role to better one's husband." Once Helena had finished reciting the words she had learnt in a book on etiquette and proper behaviour of a woman, she smiled. "Did I miss anything?"

  Her mother looked ready to cry. “Is that all I have taught you, dear?”

  “Of course, not, Mama. You've taught me how to run a household, to hire servants, to sing, to sew, to-”

  “Stop, stop, stop!” her mother commanded, her voice cracking. “This is terrible. Oh, what have I done?”

  Bewildered, Helena moved to her mother's side, taking her hands. “Mama, whatever is plaguing you? Did I say something wrong? I've taken such care in remembering all you have taught me, but perhaps I have missed something. I will do better, only do not cry.”

  Helena's mother pulled her hands away, taking out a handkerchief. “You've been the perfect daughter, child. 'Tis I who have not done right by you. Oh, what a fool I've been!” the woman bawled, her shoulders shaking.

  “But Mama!” Helena protested. “What is all this? What are you saying?”

  The woman waved her hands about, looking away. “Oh, don't mind me, dear. Just the tears of a foolish woman. I'll be all right in a moment.”

  Helena didn't think so. She had never seen her mother in this state before. “Are you certain?”

  “Quite. See? I'm feeling better already,” she said, turning bloodshot eyes and pink cheeks to Helena. “I'm all right, dear. Please, let's continue our tea.”

  Helena was hesitant to leave her mother's side, but her mother was so insistent and almost frantic that all should return to normal. Taking her seat, Helena kept a watchful eye on her mother. Perhaps I should speak to Papa about this.

  “You will not say anything to your father about this ridiculous outburst,” her mother said.

  Helena's eyes widened. “But I never said I would!”

  “I can see it in your eyes, dear. Leave your father out of this matter- this is just between you and I. Now, drink up your tea and let's forget about this, yes?”

  Helena agreed to drink her tea, but she was not going to forget about it. How could she? It was so uncharacteristic of her mother that it begged attention.

  “Monsieur Baudelaire is an excellent violinist, is he not?” her mother said quite out of nowhere. “I heard him play at the ball, and I must say that he has a rare talent. Did he ever play for you during your lessons?”

  She has never spoken about Nathaniel before. Why now? "He once played for me but refused to play again. He has such a way with a violin, doesn't he? I remember seeing the passion in him as he artfully pulled his bow across the strings and created music that I found otherworldly."

  Helena found herself smiling as she remembered their days together, their discussions and arguments.

  “You enjoyed your lessons together,” said her mother.

  It wasn't a question, but a statement. “I did,” Helena admitted. “Nathaniel is a wonderful tutor and a marvellous violinist.”

  “You call him Nathaniel and not Monsieur Baudelaire?”

  Helena coloured. She sounded as though she knew him better than she should, but she had. Or, at least I believed I did.

  “We became friends. It's hard to remain immune to a man with such a gift. I wanted to know what drove him, and the only way to know that was to find out about his life.”

  “I see. Monsieur Baudelaire made a big impact on your life.”

  Once again, Helena sensed an underlying message in her mother's words. “No more than any other tutor. Oh, did I tell you what Luke said the other day? He can be rather amusing when he wishes.”

  Helena hoped her mother would cease asking about Nathaniel and focus on Luke. I do not wish her to doubt my commitment to this marriage. Nathaniel was her past, but Luke was her future – and a rather bleak one at that.

  Margaret could no longer sit by and watch her daughter's life ruined by selfishness. She had seen the light enter Helena's eyes when she spoke about Nathaniel and knew without a doubt, her daughter loved the man. She stood up, placing her cold tea on the table.

  “Dear, I must see your father. Can we pick up where we left off tomorrow?”

  Her daughter looked a little confused and surprised, but she nodded. “Of course, Mama.”

  Margaret dropped a kiss on her daughter's head and left the room, increasing her pace once Helena could no longer see her.

  “I have to make things right, and Henry will listen to me. I refuse to see my daughter's life ruined.”

  It wasn't too late to make things right- propriety be damned!

  Margaret found her husband pouring over journals in his study. “My love, I need you to stop whatever you're doing and listen to what I have to say.”

  “My dove!” her husband exclaimed. “Why, you're positively flushed! Did you run all the way here?”

  “Almost, but it was worth it. Henry, we must make a final decision for our daughter's happiness. I have seen with my own eyes that she loves Monsieur Baudelaire. She even calls him Nathaniel!”

  “But, my dove-”

  "Please, don't interrupt me just yet," she pleaded. "Hear what I have to say, and then take a moment to think about Helena's future. From where I'm standing, there are only two solutions to this mess we got our daughter into. We either let Helena marry the right type of man and have her remain miserable for the rest of her life, or we allow her to marry the wrong type and see her happy for the rest of her life."

  “You mean you want me to allow her to marry the violinist?” Henry asked.

  “That's precisely what I'm saying.”

  “He's beneath her status, Margaret,” her husband protested. “What would people say?”