Page 16 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
The notes became darker near the end. The melody became sharper and more fragmented, and the tempo seemed to be racing to a violent end.
She gasped, as John had to push his usually calm self to reach the heights of her music.
Then, there was silence.
John was breathless, his fingers trembling over the keys. When he twisted to face her, his face was full of concern.
“Y-You didn’t like it?” Alexandra asked.
If there was one thing she was confident about, it was her music. If she couldn’t have even that, then what was her purpose?
“It’s stupendous, Your Grace. But is there something the matter?” His brow was furrowed as he rested his elbows on his lap.
He seemed prepared to listen to her—to whatever woes she might share.
“Nothing is the matter, John,” she lied.
Everything was wrong. She was married, not out of love but for convenience. Her father was drowning in debt, and his life might be in danger. And on top of all that, she could not even sell her music with her name on it.
“The music is frenzied. It is beautiful, but there is anxiety in it. Loss of control. It deserves more than simply being played at dinner parties. It must be played at concertos,” John spoke, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“W-Well, that is a marvelous compliment coming from you, John.” Alexandra realized that her shoulders had been hunchedthe whole time they were conversing. She straightened her spine as hope bloomed in her chest. “And it could fetch a good price?”
“Yes. However, you must be honest with me, Your Grace. Why do you need the money so badly? You are a duchess. Forgive me for asking, but is the Duke a cruel man? Has he not given you an allowance, as he should?”
“No, John. He is not cruel,” Alexandra responded a little too sharply. “He is a decent man. He provides for me, but I have to earn my own coin. Why can’t a woman earn her own living, even by using a man’s name?”
“If he is a good man, you should not need the money. Your husband is more thrifty than other men like him. He is wiser than most people think he is. At least, that is what I have heard. Alexa—Your Grace, what you are doing is dangerous.”
“Dangerous? How can it be? You take my sheet music and sell it under the name J. Lewis. You said they can be sold as concerto pieces.”
J. Lewis was a name she came up with—J for Julian, her late brother, and Lewis, a variation of her mother’s name, Louisa.
“That may be true. However, these compositions are excellent. People will want to know who wrote them. They won’t be happy about the secrecy.”
“What about that painter, Eric Westback? I have been informed by a friend that despite him remaining anonymous, thetonstill buys his art,” she responded, recalling some of the letters she’d exchanged with her friend Lady Mary Barrington.
John sighed. “That is true, but they are constantly speculating about his identity. Word travels fast in theton, Your Grace. One wrong move and you—and eventually this Westback character—would be found out.”
Alexandra fell silent. She knew there were risks, but she did not know exactly what. Nobody was willing to discuss such things with women, especially ladies like her, who were born in supposedly respectable, noble families.
John took her silence as a prompt to continue. “Your reputation can be ruined. You keep visiting me without an escort. You came here when it was still dark out. And I am quite certain your husband is not aware of it.”
“No, he is not,” Alexandra replied, looking up.
“Even if you do not fear for your reputation, think about your husband’s name,” John advised. “He is a man of great status. Imagine if people think his wife is breaking her marriage vows. If you are ostracized, Your Grace, no one will buy your music.”
“I am aware of the risk, John. But I need to do this.”
“Your Grace, if your identity is unmasked, it might expose you to accusations of fraud. As a woman, you are not expected to sell sheet music. You are of genteel birth and a good marriage.”
“I will sell them under a man’s name, John, as I said. It is not for myself, but for someone whose life may be in danger. Use the name J. Lewis. Please.”
A shadow passed over his face, as if he could tell exactly who it was that needed saving.
Alexandra took a deep breath and smoothed down her cloak. She had to go before her husband discovered her absence.
“Very well, Your Grace. I shall find you a buyer. I will contact you once it’s done.”
