Page 42 of The Highlander's Princess Bride
True to his word, however, the earl had somehow managed to bring his brothers under a semblance of control. It had been almost two weeks since she’d accepted the position, and Alec had departed for Glasgow with Braden. In that time, the twins had stopped bedeviling her, Royal had ceased being entirely surly, and even Mr. MacDonald had mostly pulled in his horns.
It helped that everyone at Kinglas was devoted to Kade, so when the earl decreed that Victoria was vital to achieving the mission of restoring the boy’s health—even if she was a womananda Sassenach—the family was forced, however reluctantly, to fall into line.
Kade’s fingers stumbled when he launched into the final bars of the rondo.
“Pianissimo,” she murmured. “This section is more delicate, almost like dance music.” She reached in front of him and played a few notes with her left hand to illustrate.
“Oh, I see. Then I build to a rush at the end, is that right?”
She smiled. “Exactly. Try it again.”
This time, he got it. Victoria watched in admiration as his fingers flew over the keyboard, easily managing the rapid scales of the left hand, offset by the trills of the right. It was a composition that defeated performers with more experience, yet Kade dashed through the notes, throwing his soul into the performance.
When he ended with a triumphant flourish, she enthusiastically applauded. “That was splendid, Kade. You’ll have the entire piece down in no time.”
He swiveled to face her, joy shining in blue eyes that were almost a mirror image of the earl’s. Whenever Kade sat down to the piano or practiced his violin, he seemed to forget his troubles. He was beginning to heal from his trauma, making steady progress every day.
Teaching Kade, knowing that she was truly helping him, had brought Victoria a peace of mind and a sense of purpose that had been missing since that awful night at Welgate Manor.
“Thank you,” he said. “I love Beethoven, and this piece is particularly wonderful. Wouldn’t it be grand to be able to write something so beautiful? I wish I could.”
“Have you ever tried composing?”
A little crease appeared between his eyebrows. “I suppose I never really thought to do so. Besides, I’m not that talented.”
“You never know until you try.”
“Have you ever written music?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yes, and I am definitelynottalented in that regard. The results were appalling.” One of her music teachers at school had delivered that message, although Victoria’s ears had already told her the same. “My destiny is to be a teacher.”
“But you’re an awfully good musician.”
“Not as good as you.” She thought for a moment about what she wanted to tell him. It had to be in a way that didn’t embarrass him or indicate that she knew his deepest secrets. “The greatest composers are more than just technically proficient. They also feel great emotion, and see the world with a sensitivity and perception most of us lack. They can draw on the experiences of their lives—good or bad—and translate their feelings into music in a way that truly touches their listeners. You already bring that sort of emotion to your playing. It’s something similar with composing, if that makes sense to you.”
“I think I understand,” he said softly. “It’s almost like explaining without having to talk about it.”
“Exactly. Some of the best composers did not lead easy lives. But they used their pain, sorrows, and joys to bring their music to life . . . to make it sing.” She patted his shoulder. “I believe you have that kind of sensitivity, Kade. I’d bet you a bob you could write something lovely if you put your mind to it.”
“You really think so?” he asked with a touching eagerness.
“I do, but only if you wish to. There’s no need to push.” She had the sense, though, that immersing himself even more deeply in his music would help.
“It might be fun,” he said. “If you don’t mind that I spend a little more time on that instead of practicing.”
“Not at all. And I am happy to assist in any way I can.”
He surprised her by throwing his arms around her neck. When he pulled back from the hug, his eyes were shining with boyish happiness. “Thank you, Miss Knight. Have I told you lately how splendid you are?”
It took her a moment to be able to control her voice. “I believe you have, sir, and I am most grateful for your approval.”
“It’s jolly to have a lady around the house again,” he said as he turned back to the keyboard and began practicing trills. “Although Taffy is wonderful, of course. It’s not that I don’t appreciate my brothers and my grandfather, but they can be a bit . . .”
“Rambunctious and argumentative?” she finished in a droll tone.
“Yes, and they’re not really interested in my music. Nick tries, of course, but he’s usually too busy to listen. I’m so happy he’s home, though. I missed him terribly during the war.”
“I’m sure you did.”
