Page 9 of The Earl's Christmas Deal
I barely know the woman; how can she have such an effect on me purely through music?
It had been years since he had felt joy at that sound. His mother and Anastasia had both loved the piano and playedit often, butnothinglike that. Even his mother’s playing was not as exquisite as what he had just heard. He swallowed convulsively around the lump in his throat and was just about to head outside when someone called his name.
Lionel approached his cousin as quickly as he could, having seen him sprint past the room he was in, looking pale and upset.
In the carriage that afternoon, Lionel had watched Adam’s face growing paler and paler as they reached the house, and now he found him almost sprinting out of the door as though he might run all the way back to London.
“Bentley, old chap, whatever is the matter?” Lionel asked lightly, coming up behind him and attempting a cheerful tone. Close up, Adam looked even more discomfited, and Lionel placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling deep concern for him. “What is it, cousin, are you quite well?”
Adam closed his eyes in despair.
“I was about to take a turn in the grounds,” Adam said stiffly. Lionel looked past him at the frost on every surface. He hated the winter months, disliked being cold, and had no time for snow and ice. He preferred the balmy spring days and warmth of autumn to the white wonderland that faced him now.
“Excellent, I was just about to do the same,” he said swiftly, the lie rolling off his tongue effortlessly. Summoning a servant, Lionel placed a hand on Adam’s arm in an attempt to forestall his swift escape.
Once wrapped up against the cold, they both walked slowly out of the door and into the wide grounds of the house.
Frost adorned every stem and flower before them, and cobwebs cascaded from every tree, catching the early evening light as the day surrendered to twilight.
Lionel kept quiet, admiring the scenery. He might hate the winter, but he would admit it had a beautiful charm about it when one paid close attention. He kept stoically silent, waiting for Adam to speak. He knew his friend was not accustomed to a party such as this. Indeed, Lionel had admonished his mother for insisting his cousin attend it at all, but she had been adamant that Adam just needed to get out, and then all would be well.
Looking at his cousin’s pale and worried face, it seemed his mother had made a grave error.
“What is it?” he said finally. Adam was wringing his hands together repeatedly and hadn’t uttered a word for many minutes. Neither of them had thought to bring gloves, andtheir fingers were pink and swollen in the freezing air.
“You will think me very foolish,” Adam muttered.
“I can promise you I will not,” Lionel insisted. “I have never thought you foolish. Not even when you climbed up that tree when we were fifteen to fetch conkers and broke your leg.”
Lionel was gratified to see a smile flicker over his cousin’s face as they turned a corner and made their way down a gravel path against the side of the house.
“I cannot wholly explain it,” Adam confessed quietly, gazing at the grey sky above them.
“Are you unwell?” Lionel inquired, concern etched upon his features.
“No. No. Nothing like that, but I just experienced something… odd.”
“I am intrigued.”
“Lady Emilia Sterling was playing Bach’s Fugue. The one mother always played.”
“I know it well.”
“It was her favourite. Usually, I would have walkedawayfrom the sound. The pianoforte brings such bad memories Itend to avoid it at all costs, but the way she played that piece. It filled my soul. As though my whole body had been dead for years and suddenly came alive. I have never heard anything like it, and I have heard that piece over one hundred times in my life.”
Lionel remained quiet.
“I am overwrought,” Adam continued. “I should not feel such things. The guilt is rising within me even as I think of it. To see a woman play my mother’s song, just as Anastasia used to. I should not be entertaining such emotions. It is very wrong, and I do not know why it has overwhelmed me in such a way. I feel as though my mind is in twelve places at once.”
“My dear fellow,” Lionel began gently, “I would never presume to understand your grief, but it has been three years since Anastasia’s death, and you have done little but work in the intervening time. Perhaps this is a sign that you are ready to rejoin the world, to allow yourself some relief. It could be as simple as enjoying music again, and that is a wonderful thing.”
Adam glanced at him uncertainly, looking appearing all the more confused as they continued on their way.
“This party affords you a splendid opportunity to embrace some joy, Adam,” Lionel insisted. “Anastasia would want you to live again. You cannot mourn her forever, and your mother would want you to enjoy something she loved without guilt.” He clapped Adam on the shoulder. “None of this is a bad thing.”
They had walked a loop of a small garden beside the house and both of them were making their way back to the main entrance without discussing it. Their breath was rising in great clouds all about them, and Lionel was already chilled to the bone.
“Perhaps you are right,” Adam said with a rueful smile. “I confess, when we came here, I could not think of anything except getting through the next few days and returning to myoffice. Perhaps Ihaveworked too hard and for too long and closed myself off from the simple pleasures life has to offer. But it was a foreign feeling, the exuberance her playing triggered in me.”
