Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

“ U tterly irritating, infuriating man.” Emily fumed as she strode down the corridor. “How dare he say those things to me?”

Her steps echoed around her, blood thundering through her. I did not think you were the kind of person to give up so easily . The Duke’s words echoed in her head, the disappointment clear in every syllable.

Emily clenched her jaw and fists. What would he know? He is a man, and a Duke. He has power, and education. He does not know what it is like to only ever be an afterthought. Some part of her knew that she was being unreasonable.

After all, she had been so excited to start their lessons and then. “How did this even happen?” Emily muttered to herself as she slowed down.

“Yes, miss. Very rude of him.” Lucy panted as she drew up beside Emily, evidently only having heard Emily’s anger at the man.

Emily turned to her, stopping so abruptly they almost collided with one another. “You should get some rest, Lucy.”

“But-” Lucy began but Emily cut her off, “I need some time alone. Do not worry, I will not need a chaperone.”

“If you are certain, Miss Emily.” Emily could see the tiredness in Lucy’s face.

She smiled at her. “I am. Thank you.”

“I shall see you in the morning.” Lucy curtsied to her and left.

Emily turned away and continued to walk, muttering to herself. “I do not push help away.”

But wasn’t that what she had just done? Why had she been so on edge? Why had she been so angry?

She could feel the panic and shame as she had read from the book Luke had given her. The joy of her realisation about the letters, and her frustration that Luke clearly did not think she was correct.

“Why should it matter if he thinks it a mad idea?” Emily muttered. “It’s hardly like he thinks well of me anyway. And definitely not after tonight.”

She supposed she ought to try and find him, to make some kind of amends, but she could not bring herself to. She felt as though there were a whirlwind of emotions within her, each jostling to be heard over the other. It was a confusing cacophony.

She shook her head, and realised that in her wandering she had ended up in one of the music rooms. A scattering of instruments lined the walls, a few guitars, some cellos, a harp. There were cases for flutes, a few violins, but one instrument caught her attention: the pianoforte.

“Drat it.” She cursed moving towards it. “He already thinks little of me, and I need some way to speak. Since he is determined to think th worst of me.”

Emily sat down at the pianoforte and looked at the keys before her. She placed her hands, feeling as though she had come home to an old friend. Even with her irritation and shame, she could not keep a smile from her face.

She began to play, welcoming the array of colours and shapes that rose in her vision. Her own emotions had colours and as she let her fingers dance across the keys, she found herself trying to marry the two together.

“Red of anger.” She whispered, letting the melody sing out. “the deep green of shame. Yellow for fear.”

She named the emotions, creating them in her mind with the music she was playing. They became a swirl of patterns before her. She lost herself in it, letting the music say all the things she could not even bring herself to think.

Amber. She played thinking not just of the colour, but of the smell. The image of cold, distant winter formed in her head and she matched what she was playing to that. The first frost of winter.

And then the image of cold, blue eyes flashed into her mind and she realised she was thinking of the Duke. The jangled mess of notes broke her fantasy as she abruptly stopped.

“Your sisters were not mistaken when they spoke of your skill.” A deep, rich voice said from behind her.

Emily whirled around and found herself staring at the Duke. How long has he been there? Goodness, how long have I been playing? Colour rushed to her cheeks, and she was grateful that there was only moonlight illuminating the room.

“I-” she began not sure what she was going to say, but before she could think of anything, Luke said, “what were you just playing?”

“What do you mean?”

“The music. It was… It was beautiful. It was haunting and yet tender. It made me think of…” Luke tapped his fingers on his chin as though thinking. “Well, lots of things. But the last part. It… It reminded me of winter mornings. When everything is frosted over. It seems hard, and yet… beneath it there is still life.”

Emily only just managed not to gasp, a flood of embarrassment washing over her as she remembered exactly what the winter was inspired by. “I did not know you could be so poetic.” She said, trying to sound teasing and hoping this would help steer away from the topic.

I dreamed that I told him he was like winter. Did I really do that? Would he know what it meant? Emily felt panic surge through her, unsure how she would explain why she had been playing that when she herself did not understand.

“Perhaps it is simply that your music moved me.” The Duke smiled, but there was a brittleness to it that confused her. “It was beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Emily replied. “I had not realised how much I had missed it.”

“How long has it been?” Luke’s voice was soft, but he made no effort to move closer.

“I do not know. A few months perhaps? Whenever this whole scandal first arose.” Emily sighed. How long has it been?

She had forced herself not to think about it. She knew that she could not dispel the rumours, not without revealing her secret. All she could do was stop playing music, and hope that this would convince the ton that she was not the arrogant person she had been made out to be.

Silence stretched between them. She knew she should apologise, that she had been behaving unreasonably. Before she could say anything, Luke moved into the room and said, “You were right.”

“I- what?” Emily shook her head, unsure what she had just heard.

“About the letters.” He held up the slip of paper she had scrawled her embarrassing letters on. “I can see it now. You were right.”

Of the many things Emily had expected him to say, that was not one of them. She gaped at him.

“Did you come here simply to tell me that?” she asked.

“No.” Luke shook his head. “But the realisation made me realise I could not simply allow you to give up.”

“Why?” Emily asked. What does he mean?

Luke gestured from her to the paper and then to the pianoforte. “Because your mind, your way of thinking. It is unique. I would not see that go to waste.”

Emily’s mouth felt dry. “But what if I am beyond helping?”

“We will not know that unless we try.” Luke’s voice was gentle, and it reminded Emily of her dream.

For a moment, she almost asked him about it. Wanting to know how much of it had been real and how much had been her delirium. The question burned within her, but she bit it back.

“I am sorry.” She said eventually.

“For what?” Luke canted his head towards her.

“For my outburst. Emily made a vague gesture with her hands.I was being… what did you say, prickly? Though I do not understand why.”

Luke shrugged. “I should have been more patient. Should have understood your excitement about the letters and not been so hard on you.”

“You did say that you would make me work hard.” She smiled at him, hoping it would soften the tension.

“I suppose I did.” He smiled back.

“I was so excited. All day I was looking forward to it and then… Somewhere, somehow that turned to something else.” She sighed. “I do not really know how to explain it. I do not understand it myself. I suppose I was little caught off guard by needing to read so quickly.”

“How else would I have understood how much help you would need?” Luke asked, his voice matter of fact.

“Logically, I know what you are saying makes sense. Yet emotionally… I do not know, suddenly I felt like a girl again. All awkward and inadequate.” Judged. She looked into his blue eyes, fighting an urge to run away.

His voice was gentle. “I had no wish to make you feel like that.”

“It would be a rather cruel thing to wish to make someone feel like that. And you are many things, but cruel is not one of them.” Emily said.

There was a beat of silence, the Duke moving so his face was further in shadow.

“What made you play tonight?” Luke asked gesturing to the pianoforte.

“I… I needed to understand my feelings. Needed to get everything out somehow.” Emily explained, unable to stop herself, her head still half caught up in her music. “It has always helped me make sense of things, to work through them and come to some kind of understanding. The notes, they are like old friends.

“And I can match the colour of them to the colour of my emotions.”

“Colour?” Luke’s voice had an odd catch to it.

Well, he already thinks poorly of me. I might as well show him the extent of it. Emily nodded and said, “Music… Well, sometimes it makes shapes and colours. Goodness, I have never told anyone that. I expect you think I am utterly mad.”

To her surprise, she saw a look of mingled surprise and excitement on Luke’s face. “It does the same for me. I thought… I thought there was something wrong with me.”

Her jaw dropped, her heart speeding up as she asked, “Is it just music? Sometimes food does it for me, certain textures or even the sound of someone’s voice.”

“It is why I am so fond of peas. They are exactly the right shade of green.” A mix of pain and happiness crossed Luke’s face. “My mother apparently said the same thing. Perhaps one day they will study this, and we will understand it better.”

“Perhaps. It is rather nice to know that I’m not the only one.” Emily smiled.

“Yes, it is… reassuring.” Luke nodded.

“The colours arewhy I like Thursdays the best. They are the most wonderful colour.” Emily played a few notes on the piano, trying to create the same colours that Thursdays were in her mind.

She caught Luke smirking as she said it and frowned at him. “What is so amusing? You disagree?”

“Yes. Though, that is not what is amusing. I have just realised, this means I am right.” Luke sat up a little straighter, looking like a child who had just discovered the teacher made a mistake.

How does he look so endearing and yet so smug at the same time? Emily frowned at him. “What do you mean? Right about what?”

“That music is about order, and structure.” Luke gestured to the pianoforte.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “And how do you come to that conclusion?”

“You were playing for patterns. Is that not order?” he grinned.

Emily shook her head. “You are the one who was so moved by my playing! Besides, patterns do not mean order. It was about marrying the emotions to the sound.”

“And is that not bringing something chaotic into structure?”

Emily opened her mouth to argue, but shook her head. He is right, but I am not going to say it.

Luke seemed to have read the answer in her silence as he gave her a satisfied look. “And to answer your other point, Thursdays are grey for me, they sound more like this.”

He played a few notes on the piano and Emily saw a swirl of colours and shapes.

“That sounds more like Tuesdays to me.” Emily played another few notes on the piano.

“Tuesdays sound like this.” The Duke replied.

Soon, the two of them were simply playing together, each adding to the melody of the other. They stopped speaking, and it was as though they were completing and complimenting whatever the other person could see.

Emily played notes that seemed golden and happy, the Duke met her with notes that seemed rich and deep, like warm honey. They moved from emotion to emotion, and suddenly she was laughing, the sound of it joining the music they were making.

Luke was laughing too. And it filled her with a warmth that was breathtaking. They stopped playing and he looked at her, a fire in his eyes.

“I think I know how we are going to teach you to read.” He grinned and pointed to the pianoforte. “What if we matched things to music?”

He played a few notes on the pianoforte. “Tell me which of these sounds like ‘ah’.”

“That one.” Emily played it.

“Now trace the letters with your finger, while I play the note.” Luke played the note again, and Emily thought.

She traced an a and an H. Then she turned to Luke and beamed. “I think this might actually work!”

“There is only one way to find out. Let us get some paper, a quill, some ink and the abecedarium.” Luke said.

“I will race you.” Emily leapt to her feet.

“And what does the winner get?” Luke asked his eyes dancing.

“That is for me to know, and you to find out.” Emily laughed and sprinted from the room.

The sound of Luke’s footsteps echoed behind her, and she laughed all the way down the corridor.