Page 46 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
Her mother, standing nearby with her friends, cleared her throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome,” she announced. No trace of her earlier nervousness showed—she sounded relaxed and calm. “The performances will be beginning in a few minutes. Please make your way to the chairs provided.”
Anastasia smiled proudly. Mama always shone at socialevents, in no small part because she loved them. She shuddered, thinking of Lord Ridley—he was in many respects even worse than their own father, and he would crush the life out of Anastasia much the way their father attempted to do with Mama.
“My lady.”
A voice at her elbow made her turn. She felt her stomach knot up as she saw Lord Ridley standing there. He looked less than usually sober. If she breathed in, she could smell alcohol.
“Good evening,” she greeted him.
“Might I...be seated beside you?” he asked a little unsteadily. Anastasia spotted her father, watching her intensely. She cleared her throat and nodded.
“Of course, my lord,” she answered.
“Grand. Grand,” he repeated, nodding as though the answer pleased him. Camilla cleared her own throat.
“I will sit beside you, Anastasia,” she said firmly.
“Thank you,” Anastasia replied. She did not like Lord Ridley’s company at the best of times. When he was likely to lose his inhibition, she liked it less.
She made her way to the seats.
A young lady went up and Anastasia felt her stomach knot up with nerves, more intensely because of the solid, reekingpresence beside her.
If only Mama had included one more name, she thought wistfully. Papa would never have allowed the duke to be on the guest list. If he even looks at the guest list, she reminded herself.
“Capital!” Lord Ridley murmured, as the young lady sat down. Anastasia winced. It was not exactly polite to speak during a performance, but she watched stiffly, ignoring the man and his antics. How he behaved was not her fault, after all.
“I will perform a sonata by Scarlatti,” the young lady announced. She was around Lily’s age and Anastasia glanced over, seeing Lily smile reassuringly for her.
The piece began and Anastasia listened intently. She enjoyed all manner of music and she fought to sit still as the stirring, bright music poured across the crowd. She wished the duke was there. He would understand if she tapped her foot sometimes.
They applauded the young lady politely, whose performance had been good. A harp had been brought in alongside the pianoforte. The evening was not excluded to piano or voice, though many young ladies were highly accomplished at both.
“I will perform a piece by Vivaldi,” another young lady announced.
Anastasia sat nervously. She knew Camilla wanted to go next. They would be the first duo to perform together. Her stomach was already knotted up and she gazed at the candles on the pianoforte’s top, willing herself to calm.
“Capital,” Lord Ridley murmured. He was barely watching or listening, and Anastasia tried to focus on the performer. She applauded as the young lady concluded her piece, her stomach twisting queasily, and her fingers laced together as Camilla stood up. They would go next.
“We will perform a vocal piece set to music by Haydn,” Camilla announced. The words were beautiful, a poem by one of Camilla’s favourite poets. Anastasia felt her fingers settle on the keys, so automatic after a month of practice that she did not need to think about it.
She inclined her head, counting internally as she waited to begin. They would start on the count of three, so that neither of them was taken by surprise by the other.
One, two, three,she counted silently. Then her fingers began to weave the melody. A short introduction led into Camilla’s vocal performance. Camilla had warmed up beforehand—or she had promised that she would—and the first notes were resonant and beautiful. Anastasia shut her eyes for a moment, losing herself in the beauty of the music that poured from them both.
She felt a slight breeze, stirring the flames that flickered before her eyes. She opened them and gasped.
A gentleman was seated opposite her, one she had not noticed. She wondered if the breath of wind had been the door opening to admit a late guest, but all thought was secondary to the astonishment flooding her.
The duke is here.
His green eyes were focused on her and his face was lit with a tranquil half smile. He looked as though he was enjoying the music as she was, but the look in his eyes was more intense. It was more than admiring, more than interested, and Anastasia felt her heart thunder, sweat tingling on her fingers at the sight of his stare.
A slight fumble on the notes brought her attention back to her performance and she tensed, but skipped ahead to the next phrase, keeping pace with Camilla. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for how many hours they had spent preparing. If she had been even a little less well-schooled in the piece, she would have lost her place entirely.
The duke’s smile broadened as the music continued. Anastasia stared at him, forgetting everything. Her fingers played of their own volition, the weeks of rehearsing informing them in ways that her mind could not. Her gaze was locked on the green eyes before her. The piece shifted and she was conscious with some part of her mind that they were about to conclude, but the rest of her was aware only of the man who was in the middle of the audience, who watched her with love in his eyes.
