Page 30 of The Defiant Governess
“Perhaps,” he answered gruffly.
As Jane made her way slowly back to the main part of the house, she reflected that she wasn’t the only one hiding painful secrets. Under the influence of the music, Saybrook had let his mask of icy hauteur slip, giving her a glimpse of a vastly different persona than he normally presented to the world.
Why did he wish to appear cold and unfeeling when he wasn’t that way at all?she wondered. She had thought that men had all the freedom in the world to be whom they chose. A surgeof empathy for him welled up within her. They were more alike than he knew!
She dabbed once more at her eyes with the handkerchief to remove any last vestige of tears. The heavy silk held the faint fragrance of bay rum and some mysterious scent she couldn’t put a name to, and the mingled effect sent a tingle up her spine. She fingered the large embroidered “S” at one of the corners, then carefully folded it and put it in her pocket.
The wrong noterang out loud and jarring.
“No, no, you must spread your fingers like this,” corrected Jane as she positioned Peter’s fingers on the keys. The lessons had been going on for a week now, and the boy was proving to be a quick learner. “Try it again.”
This time the boy completed the simple tune without a mishap.
“Well done, Peter,” she laughed.
A slow clapping made them both turn around.
“Yes, bravo,” called Saybrook from where he was lounging against the doorway. “You’ve made great progress.”
“Oh, Uncle Edward, listen to this. I can also play a sea chantey,” cried Peter, and he began to pick out a simple melody, making only two or three mistakes.
“I see we have a prodigy in the making,” said Saybrook dryly as he came and sat down on a corner of the bench. “Have you learned this duet? It was the first piece my music master taught to my sister and me.” He showed the boy one part, then began to play his own melody.
Peter laughed in delight. “Oh, that’s ripping. Can we do it again?”
Jane had slipped off the bench to make room for the marquess, and now stood watching the two dark heads bent over the keyboard. A warm smile stole across her face. Saybrook looked up for a moment and caught her look. He smiled back at her before returning his attention to the boy and the music.
Jane noted how some of the small lines of worry around his eyes had been erased, and how he looked even more handsome, now that the look of cold boredom had been replaced by sunnier emotions.
“Excuse me, my lord.” Glavin stood in the doorway. “Cook sends word that supper is ready.”
“Thank you. Tell her we are coming.”
“Sir, just one more time,” coaxed Peter.
Saybrook grabbed the boy around the waist like a sack of grain, setting off a fit of giggles. “Enough, brat,” he chided. “Cook will ring a peal over our heads if we ruin her dishes.”
‘Tomorrow, then,” begged Peter. “Please say we can do it again tomorrow.”
Saybrook rolled his eyes at Jane.
She had to suppress a fit of giggles herself. “It seems, sir, you have opened Pandora’s box.”
“Who’s Pandora?” demanded the boy. “There’s no one in the house by that name. Is it a special box? Can I see it?”
“We are just getting to mythology,” said Jane to Saybrook. Glancing at Peter, she added, “And no, Peter, there isn’t anyone named Pandora here. And there isn’t any actual box. It is a type of fable that we shall learn about soon in our lessons.”
“Oh,” said the boy, sounding a bit disappointed. He thought for a second. “Then how can Uncle Edward open it?”
Saybrook’s eyes flashed with mirth. “Yes, Miss Langley. How is that?”
“Beast,” she hissed, before answering Peter’s question. “It’s rather like the stories Reverend Burke tells in church, whichteach us lessons about life. Pandora and her box is a story created by the ancient Greeks. And there is a moral to it as well.”
“I don’t think I will like that story—Reverend Burke is boring.”
“Peter,” warned Jane.
“Yes, Miss,” sighed the boy. “Don’t speak ill of your elders.”
