Page 59 of A Bride for the Cruel Duke

“What...” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What is it...?”

“You’ll see...”

A moment then. One in which he looked right at her, and she felt seen again. He sat up, leaned forward, and despite herself, she prepared for him to kiss her. More than that, she wanted him to kiss her.

“Come on.” He rose suddenly and pulled her to her feet.

“Oh...” Caroline’s heart crashed, disappointed because it was clear that whatever this surprise was, it was not what she assumed.Which is a good thing! And it is lucky for him he did not try anything...or so she told herself.

Anthony led her from the booth and down the hallway, but rather than heading for the exit, she realized he was taking her in the direction of the stage. From there, he led her toward the back until they were standing outside a dressing room.

“Anthony, what is...?” She frowned at him, searching for an answer.

“You will see,” he said, his excitement palpable.

He knocked on the door, they were called to enter, and through the door they went. Inside sat a small man with a large nose, dressed in a suit, sipping a glass of wine. He jumped to his feet and bowed as soon as he saw who it was.

“Your Grace,” he said. “It is an honor.” His accent was Italian, but he spoke English perfectly. “And who is this?” he asked when he spied Caroline standing nervously by the door.

“This is who I was telling you about.” Anthony turned and gestured for her to come closer. “Caroline, this is Antonio Abate, the composer of tonight’s opera.”

Her eyes widened. “Mr. Abate!” she said a little too loudly. “It is an honor to?—”

“Ah, ah...” He held up a hand. “The honor is all mine, I assure you.” He swept toward her, taking her hand and giving it a kiss. “But if it is such an honor, allow me please to repay it.”

“I... I do not...” She looked at her husband for an explanation, but he stood back, appearing rather pleased with himself. “There is no need.”

“Of course there is,” Mr. Abate insisted. “Shall we start as soon as possible?”

“Start what?”

Anthony stepped in. “Mr. Abate has offered to help you with your lessons.”

“Lessons?” She had no idea what was going on.

“The pianoforte,” Mr. Abate explained. “His Grace has told me that you’ve started learning. A wonderous instrument, the pianoforte, and I should know as I consider myself a master. It has been a while since I have taught but for you, Your Grace, I relish the chance.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You... you are going to teach me?”

“If it suits you.”

“It does,” Anthony answered for her. “And I will send instructions at once, concerning dates and times.”

“I eagerly await.”

Caroline was rendered speechless. She looked between her husband and Mr. Abate, mouth still open, eyes wide, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Growing up as she had, not once had someone gone out of their way for her like this, seeking to help her for no other reason than it was the right thing to do.

She feltseen, she realized, something which was becoming a commonality in this marriage. More than that, she felt grateful and underserving.

“Anthony...” She did not know what to say. “I cannot —”

“It is fine,” he cut her off. “Truly, if you are going to learn, you best do it properly.”

Knowing not what to say or how to say it, Caroline did the only thing that she could think. She threw herself at Anthony, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him. And Anthony, surprised at first, hugged her right back. It was not sexual. It was not promiscuous. It was a showing of thanks, and she could feel in the way her husband held her how much he appreciated it.

“Thank you,” she said as she hugged him. “For everything.”

“For you, Caroline,” he whispered back, still holding her. “Anything.”

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