Page 15 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
Somehow, she did not feel as thrilled at the thought.
She knocked on the wooden door, barely breathing. She knew that what she was doing could do irreparable damage to her reputation. While she pretended she didn’t care how people felt about her, she still felt uneasy about being shunned. About ruining her husband’s reputation. About forever losing people’s affections. Her life was already as lonely as it could be.
“Come in,” a soft voice called out.
She exhaled and opened the door.
Meeting John was a dangerous necessity. However, as soon as she heard the strains of music coming from his piano, she calmed down.
His home was private and dimly lit as usual, and the sun had not yet risen. Alexandra inhaled the scent of candles and old sheet music as she wandered closer to the piano. Even in her cloak, she shivered a little.
“Good morning, John.”
“Alexandra! Or should I now say,Your Grace?”
John Prescott, her former pianoforte teacher, was a handsome man in his late thirties. He was slender, with long fingers suited for playing the piano, and kind brown eyes.
He raised an eyebrow at her, perhaps wondering at the urgency of her visit and secrecy.
“Please John, call me Alexandra. My title stifles me, and I need to be myself while I am with my music.”
“No, Your Grace. I shan’t call you Alexandra again. Please make yourself comfortable,” John urged, gesturing to an ottoman inches away from the piano bench.
“Thank you,” Alexandra sat down primly, placing her clasped hands on her lap.
Under them was her portfolio case, ready to change hands. Her dark cloak made her look like a young widow about to come out of her mourning.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” John asked.
Alexandra gulped, her heart racing. Why was she nervous? She had been so determined up to that moment, but now, she felt like her heart had crawled all the way up to her throat.
After a long exhale, she declared, “I want to sell my music compositions.”
Chapter Six
“You wish to sell your music?” John echoed.
“Yes. I will bring more compositions once I have more time to play the piano,” Alexandra answered.
“Let me see them,” John requested, his voice even.
Alexandra could not read his emotions, and it was making her palms sweat. Her hand shook a little when she passed the folio to her old tutor.
“T-They, uh, should be appropriate for dinner parties and balls.” She fiddled with the lace peeking through her thick coat.
“As most things are nowadays,” John replied dryly as he sifted through the sheets. He then set them on the music rest.
Alexandra’s heart raced. The music that was in her head, that she had worked on for weeks, would now be heard by someone else—someone who could decide if it was good or not.
She balled her fists as John nodded while reading the sheet music. Then, he straightened his back and stretched his fingers over the keys. Alexandra squeezed her eyes shut.
Suddenly, music filled the room.Hermusic.
The ivory keys echoed the harmony and contrast, recreating a world of dreams and wishes. It spoke of Alexandra’s hope for her future. The music was lighthearted but unique.
When she opened her eyes, she could see John swaying to the rhythm. She envied how his body had become one with the notes, ones that she had painstakingly written but could not claim.
She was, after all, only a woman.
