Page 41 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
“Me, too!” Camilla grinned. “I’m excited about our piece, too. I want to try something new.”
“Of course,” Anastasia agreed at once. She stood, flexing her fingers. She had rested them that morning, since they had practiced wildly the previous day, so much so that she had worried that Camilla would hurt her throat or that she herself might strain something. They had to be careful, Mama had teased, or they would not be able to perform at all at the musical evening.
“Let’s begin!” Camilla said excitedly as Anastasia sat down at the pianoforte. She reached for the music book; the pages of their song well marked. She rested her hands for a moment on her skirts, which were white muslin decorated with a pattern of tiny flowers. Then she began.
Camilla’s voice soared as she began to sing after the shortintroduction that Anastasia played. Anastasia was dimly aware that her finger hurt a little from having practiced too hard the previous morning, but as the piece progressed, she forgot about it, enjoying the sound of Camilla’s voice and the way the soaring harmonies blended with the notes that she played. She loved music whether she was dancing or whether she was listening or playing it.
They reached the concluding section and Anastasia grinned up at Camilla, who was definitely performing it a little differently. She was holding the low notes for longer and the effect was beautiful. Camilla grinned back.
“Whew!” she let out a sigh, then giggled. “I thought I might break something.”
“You did beautifully,” Anastasia told her. “I don’t know how you managed to sustain those notes so long!”
“I think I’ll hurt my stomach if I do that much longer,” Camilla said with a laugh. “The muscles are already sore from all our singing.”
“Don’t strain yourself,” Anastasia told her, also giggling.
“I won’t,” Camilla assured her. “Let’s open that window.” She went over and pushed the window open. It was the one that looked down to the street, and the noise of coaches and of people talking drifted in from the road below.
“Is there a piece you’d like to practice again?” Anastasia asked. “I would like to go to bar forty-two. The phrasing there is tricky, and I’d like to practice it again. If you want?”
Camilla nodded. “Of course. It’s easier for me...you’re doing all the trills in that bit.”
“Yes. I am,” Anastasia teased. “My fingers know too.”
They both laughed.
They returned to the bar that Anastasia wanted to try again, and then Camilla suggested they went to the middle section, where there was a passage that she still wanted to work on. A moth flapped in through the window and Camilla shrieked as it fluttered past her face.
“I’ll let it out,” Anastasia said. She had never had a horror of insects—the only crawling things that scared her were spiders. She went to the window where the poor thing was flapping helplessly and pushed it out over the sill. Camilla came and joined her.
“Off it goes,” she murmured.
Anastasia nodded and smiled. She watched the insect flutter down and gazed down to the gardens below. The front of their house had no garden to speak of, resting directly on the pavement.
“Oh! Look!” Camilla said, interrupting her thoughts. She was pointing. “There is a little market down there. I can see a ribbon stall. Shall we go?”
Anastasia frowned. Since her father had seen her dancing with the duke, he had been particularly hard on her about doing anything that might put her good name in question. The townmarket was far from a scandalous place to be seen, but perhaps he would disapprove. “I am not sure,” she began.
“Oh, come, dear friend!” Camilla chided gently. “There’s no harm in a market! We can take Rachel to chaperone us—of course we shall. Then there is nothing untoward about us being seen there.”
“You are right,” Anastasia agreed. Her heart lifted at the thought of being out of doors. She had been in the house too long. Being outside and doing something diverting like visiting the market felt good.
They hurried downstairs to fetch their bonnets and shawls and to find Rachel to accompany them.
“I shall race you!” Camilla challenged, laughing, as she tied on her bonnet. “Whosoever is first prepared shall be the victor...though I know not what the prize may be."
“A Chelsea bun!”
“Yes!”
They giggled and laughed, and Anastasia’s spirits soared as she tied on her bonnet. Camilla was fractionally faster, and they were still laughing as they rushed outside, Rachel hurrying behind them.
“I won!” Camilla grinned as Anastasia caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs that led down from the front door. “I can’t wait to have that delicious bun.”
“I’m having one too,” Anastasia insisted. Chelsea buns were delicious—thick, doughy buns well-stocked with raisins and iced with thick sugary icing.
They both laughed as they hurried down the street towards the market. Rachel hurried to keep up and they were, all of them, laughing and giggling breathlessly as they walked briskly towards the stalls.
