Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sometimes, Philip felt as though his only outlet was music. It communicated his heart and thoughts far better than his words ever could, even back when he was good at socializing. While playing, he could forget his position in life and every bad thing that had ever happened to him, and do something he truly was good at.

He hadn't expected an audience when he turned around.

Typically, no one was permitted into the music room when he was there. There was a sort of judgment to it that he could not stand, even if it were his own mother. He had been biding his time before showing Lady Jacqueline his face, but his efforts had been in vain, because there she was behind him, staring at him.

He should have been appalled, and he knew that, but then he saw the tears in her eyes. He hadn’t been ready, but he had to admit that he could never have prepared her for what he looked like. Even so, when he looked into her eyes, he did not find disgust or pity in them. Even his mother had pitied him too much for too long.

It was a refreshing change, as though she understood him. He laughed at himself, for it was a strange and impossible thing to think, but it was his thought all the same.

“My apologies,” she said at last, wiping her tears away. “It was terribly rude for me to intrude on you, but I… you play beautifully.”

“Do you think so?”

“Most definitely. I have never known a man to be so skilled, nor so genuine, with a pianoforte or otherwise.”

He quickly wiped his face. There were many ways that he had been described throughout his life, but that had never been one of them.

As he finished drying his face, he considered turning his back to her once more. She had seen him, and that had to be enough to satiate any curiosities she had had, yet he still could not see any sort of aversion in her eyes. For the first time since the accident, he dared to maintain their eye contact, and she did not shrink away from it.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he replied. “I must admit, however, that I am not used to having an audience when I play.”

“That is a terrible shame.”

“Do you… like music?”

He was waiting to see some sort of disgust in her face, and it made it so difficult to continue being so open with her, even if he truly wanted to try his best to be.

“I adore it,” she sighed. “Though I have never been much good at it, nothing like you at least.”

“Surely you can play. Aren’t all young ladies taught?”

“Believe me, efforts were made by my mother, but having an adoration for music does not translate to having any real aptitude for it. I can play, but no better than most of the young ladies of the Ton . You, on the other hand, are very talented indeed.”

“I could show you a few things, if you like.”

He had said it quickly–too quickly, and he did not know why he had done so. Teaching her would mean her coming even closer to him, and surely she would not wish to do that? It was a foolish thing to suggest, but he had felt a strange rush of good emotion when she spoke so kindly to him. The words had fallen from his lips before he could compose himself.

“I would like that very much,” she replied, and he bristled.

She seated herself beside him, looking at him with a smile on her face as if he was not horrifically disfigured. He almost felt like his old self again, which had not happened in a long time. She looked up at him expectantly, her lips parted slightly, awaiting his instruction.

“For a start,” he began, clearing his throat. “I shall assume that you learned your scales.”

“Was I taught scales? Yes. Was I ever any good at them? No, no I was not.”

Philip chuckled, placing his hands on the keys at the beginning of a scale. She studied his hands for a moment, and he wondered if she was looking at his scars, but she soon placed her own hands on the keys, copying his stance.

“Like this?” She asked.

Philip nodded, scolding himself for doubting her even though she had given him no reason to do so.

“Now, you do this.”

Philip did a run of scales, slowly so that she would see what he was doing. She then copied him clumsily, hitting the wrong note on more than one occasion, which made her smile a little wider. She had always appeared so careful and gentle, and yet when she tried to play an instrument known for emitting gentle sounds when played correctly, she was clunky, loud, and giggly. It was another side of her completely, and he enjoyed it.

He played it again, and she watched him with a furrowed brow and determination sparkling in her eyes. She copied him once more, doing better the second time but still not perfect. She sighed, tilting her chin up to the ceiling.

“I am not made for this,” she smiled. “But I must say, listening is just as entertaining. More so, in fact, because then I have no fear of doing things wrong. I am good at listening, you know.”

“I have noticed, yes,” he nodded with a smile. “Now, one more time.”

He wondered if she would groan at him and try a third time with a sulk, but of course she did not. She watched him one final time, and then she attempted once more. At last, she did it without making a mistake, and when she succeeded at last, she looked at him with her mouth open, practically shaking with pride for herself. He could not help but feel the same way.

He also could not help but feel dazzled by her. She was beautiful, especially when she was curious and determined, and he realized that his heart was pounding in his chest. He wiped his hands on his sleeves, noticing how they had been sweating while she was beside him.

He knew what his feelings were all too well, and they were most dangerous. He had admired her, to be sure, but he had not been attracted to her. That was a crucial part in his offer to let her go if she wished; he did not love her, or have any such feelings at all, and so what was the harm?

If he did fall for her, however, she would have so much power over him–power that Lady Ophelia had used against him until he had become the shell of a man he was now.

He shook his head, the thoughts of Lady Ophelia falling away as he did so. This was not her, this was Lady Jacqueline, and she was nothing like the lady that had broken his heart. She was worthy of his trust, and he knew that he had to give her that, even if it terrified him completely.

“I have never done that before,” she breathed. “I know it seems quite far-fetched, but believe me it was the last thing I expected to succeed in.”

“Well, now you can say that you have succeeded in it,” he smiled, proud of her even if he had not known that she had struggled with it. “Though I must ask about your sister. Did she ever learn?”

“Somehow, yes. She received lessons while my mother was alive, of course, and perhaps it was those lessons that got her far enough, but after Mother’s passing, Elizabeth’s schooling fell to me. I could tutor her in most things, but when it came to music… let us just say it was a struggle.”

The two of them laughed, and Lady Jacqueline gently stroked a key with a finger.

“Did you have a music teacher?” She asked.

“Many, yes, which is perhaps why I am any good at it. I had tutors for everything, and as a child I never had a moment to myself. I learned history, geography, and mathematics. Reading and writing were a given, and then there were special lessons about my family’s history, as well as the area I would be in charge of. It was a lot, but I always tried to be grateful for it. I never once wanted to seem unhappy about my life, given how fortunate I had been.”

“Fortune is an odd thing, isn’t it? I always considered myself to be more fortunate than Elizabeth, because I was able to enter society when we had money, and debut while we still had access to such luxuries as tutors. Then, one day, she told me that she had always seen it as the opposite, and that she had had far more luck in that her tutor was her closest friend.”

“Even so, it would have been wrong for me to dislike how many opportunities I had been given.”

“At the expense of being a boy,” she pointed out. “You can be grateful while still wishing you had lived a normal life. I am grateful to my father, against all odds, because I know that he has done his best for my sister and I, but that does not mean I have to feel only good things for him. I am angry with him, unbelievably so, and it is entirely possible for me to feel those two ways.”

Philip considered her words carefully. She was entirely correct; he had spent his entire life trying to be perfect—the perfect gentleman, the perfect son, the perfect duke, and after his accident he had seen it as all having been in vain. The truth, however, was that he was a person with bad experiences as well as good, and he could not be too unkind to himself because of that.

“I do not know how you do it,” he sighed.

“How I do what, Your Grace?”

“Remain so good. You are kind and wise and intelligent, where most people would have been furious and given back every unkind thing that had happened to them twice as hard as they had ever received it.”

“Well, I suppose that it simply would not help anyone to do so. I could be angry. I could be positively furious, but what good would it do? Perhaps I would momentarily feel better, but what then? It would only cause hurt to others, and that is simply not the person I am.”

“And that is remarkable.”

“Were you…” she said gingerly. “Were you ever angry, Your Grace?”

He had not expected that.

“I… yes, for the longest time I was, and I did not know how to contain all of that anger. When I was recovering, I could hardly do anything at all. After spending my entire life constantly learning or doing things, I had to lay there and do nothing, and it infuriated me. All that fury, of course, had nowhere to go, as I could barely even speak at first, never mind raise my voice. It was all locked within.”

“That must have been horrible,” she said gently. “But the relief you must have felt when you played the pianoforte again for the first time must have felt magical.”

“It did, but I cried the first few times.”

He bit his tongue. Lady Jacqueline seemed to naturally pull secrets out of him, and he did not want to fight it.

“I mean,” he continued, “it was this great release of months of anger and hurt. It was tremendous, but I could not look at the pianoforte for a while after. I had missed it so much, but I couldn’t bear the sight of it.”

“Then you have come a long way, much further than anyone would ever know from looking at you.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, but not for long before Lady Jacqueline gasped, rushing to her feet with a smirk.

“In spite of our situation,” she blurted out with a giggle. “I believe it is improper for the two of us to be here alone together.”

“Oh! Yes, I suppose that it is.”

He could see the blush creeping across her cheeks, and he dared to believe that it was because she was near him, even if he knew it was impossible. She took her leave, and he watched her go, hoping it would not be too long before she stumbled her way back to him again.