Chapter 32 - MARK—BANGING OUT THE TUNE

Chapter 32

MARK—BANGING OUT THE TUNE

Staying the night at the duke’s house didn’t make sense, but I did. I was clearheaded, not inebriated. I could get in my gig and be off to my lodgings. Or I could walk beneath the stars to my mother’s.

Instead, it was me and Dido and the beautiful, lonely pianoforte.

My fingers hammered across the keys of the pianoforte.

Seeing the duke and Georgie dancing together incensed my blood. I’m not sure what happened. I thought her knowing I had more time to work on this composition would mean something. Her concerns that we might be rushing would be eliminated.

But somehow my news pushed her into the duke’s arms and made her a willful participant in his bet.

One brief touch during our minuet, one smell of roses in her hair as we switched places in the cotillion, raced my pulse. I had nothing, not a farthing, not a complete song, only an undeniable dream of her.

I loved her.

At this hour, close to midnight, she was upstairs slipping into bed.

And all I wanted was for her to be here by my side or for me to be by hers.

How did I bungle this so badly?

Playing the piano again, I let my mind and fingers work the tension out of my soul.

Clapping.

When I looked up, I saw the duke standing in the doorway with his arms extended. Nightshirt and slippers, sporting his fancy pearly robe, he offered a full-bodied applause.

“I’m probably waking everyone up or keeping everyone up.”

“Little Lydia is asleep. Lady Hampton left to do some paperwork for Mr. Thom. The other sisters are doing whatever young women do before retiring.”

“Well, I apologize.”

“Never, Sebastian. A master at work is a thing of beauty. To hear such passion in this song is amazing.”

“Mozart is a wonder.”

“Mozart played by a maestro with all the emotions—anger and loss and hunger—is a gift to the world.”

He stepped to the Kenwood portrait. “I keep thinking of the resemblance between Georgina Wilcox and Dido. I see why you were instantly taken by her.”

“It wasn’t instant. I’d asked about Miss Wilcox for over a year before I found her in your garden.”

His back was to me, with his arms folded behind. “You knew where she lived. You could’ve tried to visit. I did not know where Katherine was, not until she’d married Tavis Palmers.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened? Why you abandoned a woman you obviously loved, or why you proposed to her sister?”

“Nyet and nyet. But I will say I will never again wait or have the woman I love wait for me to build or do. I will act. Time is a gift we cannot manage.”

I jumped up with my fists extended. “I want her to be happy. And I want to beat senseless any man she chooses who is not me.”

“You’re funny, Sebastian. We both know I’d break you. But I am not the person you should be mad at. She hasn’t chosen me but the idea that a man will want her hand and have his life in order so that they can build a new world together.”

“Georgina Wilcox is too smart to allow you and a bunch of men to pick her husband.”

Torrance chuckled. “You had a spring flower in your hands, the bud opening at your touch, and thought you could delay watering it until autumn. When a rose is in full bloom, it will not wait. It will be in someone’s hair or buttonhole.”

The man was right.

I was a fool. “These weeks they’ve been coming here, when Miss Wilcox was resistant to marriage, I stopped pushing so hard. I wanted to give her time, but she may have been testing my resolve.”

“The logic of a woman is something I will never fully understand, except that Scarlett—she frightens me with her intensity. But I’ve learned two things. Honesty in both your desires and fears is important. And a woman must never doubt your feelings for her. If she does, that’s ground for someone else to harvest.”

I sank to the bench. “I doubted her and myself. Now she’ll be someone else’s wife.”

I began to play. This time it was the tune stuck in my head.

Torrance hummed, but all I heard was Georgie’s voice from our practice earlier today.

“She will partake in the parade of suitors that starts tomorrow and has agreed to marry whom I choose for her. As her guardian in the matter, I’ll not pick a volatile choice. Nor will I be swayed by a man who’s unsure.”

The duke strolled to the door, his long white robe fluttering like an angel’s. “Stick with your music, Sebastian, and Dido. She will wait an eternity to be admired.”

My fingers shrank away from the keys.

Nothing Torrance said was untrue. My love deserved the world—something kind and free, where she ran or twirled for pure pleasure, never fear.

A better man would leave things to the duke and let Georgie enjoy her choices.

Good thing that wasn’t me.