Lord Love a Duke (9 page)

"I have never thought in this manner before.
I find myself intrigued by your intimation that I may actually be
quite vain, flaunting myself with my eccentricities. How utterly
shameful."

A look of alarm passed over his features as
he feared he may have gone too far in his assessment. She seemed to
be aghast that her efforts to highlight her inappropriateness
actually just highlighted herself alone. "Let me also add that you
are quite delightful exactly as you are. You are unique, and that
will always stand out from the familiar, and not always in a
negative manner."

"I think you have managed to dress me down
and compliment me simultaneously. I will take both with grace and
aplomb, and say 'thank you.' You have given me much on which to
think." She straightened in her seat as Miranda entered the room
with a look of unease across her face. Juliet threw the Duke a
mischievous look with a sparkle in her eye. "
Zut!
" she
murmured. She begged he excuse her as she stood and moved from the
chaise to attend her friend, his rich laughter following her across
the room.

Juliet clasped hands with Miranda,
immediately sensing her friend's unease. They walked over to a
window seat removed far enough away from the ears of the assembled
guests.

Calma. Nessuno nota la vostra assenza.

Calm down. No one noticed your absence.

Sei sicuro? Ho tanta paura vorrei essere
catturato.

Are you sure? I was so afraid I would be
caught.

The two friends fell into speaking Italian
to thwart possible eavesdroppers. They had developed the habit soon
after learning they could keep scores of secrets when they spoke a
language their brothers could not understand. French was too
commonplace and Latin too dreary to remember. Juliet never realized
her love of Italian opera would lead them to hijack the language
for any clandestine purposes.

Ho promesso. Nessuno se ne fosse accorto che
erano spariti.

I promise. No one noticed you were gone.

Mi sento come tutti a guardare a me.

I feel like everyone is staring at me.

Miranda's voice shook as she spoke and she
glanced around nervously, her breath coming in short pants. Juliet
softly rubbed her friend's hands in a gesture of comfort but her
words were serious with warning.

Si considerano colpevoli. Fate un respiro
profondo e uscire arrossito!

You look guilty. Take a deep breath and quit
blushing!

Juliet hissed her last statement in quiet
command.

Sto cercando.
Mi piace essere nudo.

I'm trying. I hate being naked.

Juliet's eyes deepened to the color of slate
and widened as she choked on a sudden laugh. Miranda's gaze flew to
hers and she knew she had misspoken and mistranslated.

Credo che lei
intende nervoso, non nudi. Ti piace essere nervoso.

I think you meant nervous, not naked. You
hate being nervous.

Miranda laughed now but it was high-pitched
and somewhat brittle, and succeeded in bringing several stares
around to her. Miranda's grip tightened painfully on Juliet's
hands.

Per mettere l'attenzione su di me. Mi
chiedono di suonare il pianoforte.

So put the attention on me. Ask me to play
the piano.

The last thing Juliet wished to do was call
attention to herself, but Miranda was growing paler and more
nervous with each passing moment.

Ma tu hai in odio a suonare il pianoforte di
fronte a persone.

But you hate to play the pianoforte in front
of people.

Sì, ma io sono un buon amico. Ora sbrigati
prima A cambiare la mia mente. O di rompere le mie dita stringendo
loro troppo stretto.

Yes, I do, but I am a good friend. Now hurry
before I change my mind. Or you break my fingers by squeezing them
too tightly.

Juliet sent Miranda a pointed look followed
by a quick grimace before smoothing her features to calm her
friend. Miranda immediately released her hands with an apologetic
face. She cleared her throat and stood to draw the attention of the
party guests. "I think we need some music to enliven our party.
Juliet, please say you will play for us." She turned her wide eyes
on her friend, still unsure if Juliet could summon the courage to
play for a crowd.

Juliet looked down at her hands and took a
calming breath. "I am sure you could find someone else to play."
She spared a look at Miranda and gathered courage when she saw her
friend's frightened face.

"Jules, you have more talent in your fingers
than most in their entire bodies. Please, favor us with a song.
Pick whatever you like best." To her ears, Miranda's request
sounded like desperate begging, which only strengthened Juliet's
resolve to aid her friend. She stood and smoothed out her skirt,
wiping her damp palms on the fabric as she went.

"Very well, but only one
song, and then another must play.” She moved silently to the
pianoforte and settled herself on the bench. “I fear my tastes are
quite boring to most, so I apologize in advance if I cause everyone
to feel drowsy after that fine meal we just enjoyed." Adjusting the
bench to fit her frame, she mentally scrambled to select something
she knew by heart. She elected to play a beloved and familiar piece
to her, Mozart's
Piano Sonata No. 9
.

Juliet rested her hands on the keys then
began to play the notes quickly and cheerfully, as they were
written to be played. Trying to overcome her feelings of
awkwardness at playing publicly, she slowly smoothed her style and
evened her fingering. As she progressed into the second movement,
she relaxed and let familiarity take over, closing her eyes, the
cadence of the music markedly slower than the first section. The
key moved from major to minor in a perfect pattern of dissonance
then harmony.

By the beginning of the third and final
movement, Juliet was unaware of her surroundings, completely lost
in the emotions of the note combinations. She played with energy
the technically demanding section, her fingers flying over the keys
with surety and skill. Her body swayed slightly, moving subtly with
fluidity to the music. A dramatic and fast chromatic scale
concluded the end of the sonata, and Juliet rested her hands in her
lap after playing the final note. She slowly raised her head and
opened her eyes, aware again of the fact she was playing for a
large group which was unused to her performance.

Clapping immediately
erupted
and she felt herself blushing. She
stood and nodded her thanks but was prevented from moving from the
pianoforte by the arrival of Viscount Melville and Mr. Burke. The
Viscount raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles
sloppily as she inclined her head in appreciation of his
notice.

"That was truly remarkable, Lady Juliet. You
have an incomparable talent for the pianoforte."

She blushed under his extolling and
demurred. "Thank you, my lord, but I have no more talent than most
can claim for this instrument."

"You are too modest, my lady! I have heard
many play and I feel I must agree with Melville. Please, continue
to play for us. I will turn pages for you, if I may." Mr. Burke
moved closer to the instrument before realizing she had no sheets
for him to turn. "I say, you played all that without music?
Famous!"

Juliet blushed further and took another step
away from the instrument. "I did, sir, but only because I have
played that piece for so many years. It is one of my favorites, so
I benefit less from talent than from repetition." The Viscount
stepped easily into her path to block her escape.

"Repetition only increased the talent you
already possess, more likely. I must insist, as I know everyone
wishes me to, that you continue to play for us, Lady Juliet. I for
one have not heard Beethoven played with such ability or beauty.
Please play again." He grabbed her hand and again pressed a kiss
there, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary, in her
opinion. He moved to usher her back to the bench as she dropped her
head to hide her distaste and embarrassment.

"I really dislike playing for crowds and
prefer to inflict my music only on my family. Please allow me to
thank you for your compliments, but I must insist someone else play
now." She politely but firmly pulled her hand from his grasp and
sidestepped her way back to the window seat and Miranda. They
surreptitiously grabbed hands between the folds of their skirts in
strengthening reassurance of each other. Miranda cast a pleading
glance at her mother, who immediately stood and took control of the
party.

"As I am sure none of the rest of us want to
try to follow that performance, which was Mozart, by the by," she
said with a smile at the Viscount, "I suggest we group up to play
some cards." She nodded at several footmen and immediately four
tables with chairs were arranged, with cards supplied for whist and
Vingt-et-un. "Grab a partner!" she called out cheerily.

"That odious Melville. I'm not sure how he
managed an invitation to this party. I thought my brother
thoroughly vetted his guest list for suitable marriage partners. As
if I would ever entertain a suit from that bounder," Miranda
whispered to Juliet. "Even if you discount the rumors of his
debauchery at the bawdy houses, it is common knowledge that he is
slowly gambling his fortune away at the tables and track. He may be
heir to an earldom, but what will be left to inherit? And to
confuse Beethoven with Mozart!" she gave an unladylike snort and
rolled her eyes.

Juliet smothered a laugh. "Many people are
guilty of confusing composers of music when they play no instrument
themselves."

"Yes, but they rarely open their mouths to
give voice to their ignorance. His shallow flattery was meant to
inflate himself, not commend you."

"I realize that, and agree that the Viscount
is a profligate. You might ask your brother how his name came to be
on the guest list. I am not averse to knowing his sister better,
however. I am sure she has a terrible time of it with that man as
her entrée into Society.” Juliet smiled softly, fatigue showing in
the fall of her shoulders and slight droop to her eyes. “I am going
to bow out of the rest of the entertainment for the evening. My
nerves are thoroughly finished, between the pianoforte and the
other." Juliet took a deep breath and released a tired sigh.

Io le tue scuse. La proverbiale pistola è
caricata. Ora dobbiamo attendere per il primo assaggio di mio
fratello, denti blu.

I will make your excuses. The proverbial gun
is loaded. Now we wait for first glimpse of my brother's blue
teeth.

Juliet laughed gently and gave her friend a
quick hug. "I will see you at breakfast then. It should be
entertaining!"

After her early night Juliet was surprised
at how well and long she had slept. She awoke with a desire to see
the fruition of their joke, yet dreaded its discovery all the same.
Hopefully, the Duke would suspect his fellow lords; when he
inevitably discovered their guilt, she feared his response. He had
been very polite towards her of late, seeming to finally see her as
an adult, or at least no longer seeing her as the gangly tomboy she
had been.

She involuntarily cringed as a
nearly-forgotten memory washed over her. She was twelve, an
ungainly mixture of arms, legs, and blossoming figure. The Duke, or
as he was known at that time, the Earl of Middlesex, was eighteen,
a prime specimen of a young man in Juliet's eyes. He had joined her
brothers to fish, and she had sneaked into the trees to spy on the
trio. Her memory demanded honesty so she acknowledged to herself
that only Jonas commanded her attention. His manner was much more
carefree then, these years before his father's death, and he
laughed with ease and frequency as the friends joked more than
fished. As Juliet's thoughts wove girlish fantasies in her mind,
she became distracted, initially failing to notice that the angling
had finished and the swimming begun. Her attention was first drawn
to the pile of clothes on the
bank, and then to
the sounds coming from the pond.

Juliet flushed at the memory of her reaction
to seeing the wet Duke roughhousing with her brothers in the water.
The sight was impressive; she could even admit now that her
brothers would draw an appreciative eye. As a twelve year old girl
hanging precariously in a tree, she did not fully understand her
interest in the Duke's body; she knew enough to admire all that she
could see, however. She found herself daydreaming again, this time
of Jonas fishing, riding, and fencing, all activities she had
watched him do many times. This time, she realized, she pictured
him without his shirt. Shaking her head to gather her wayward
thoughts, she became aware of the lack of noise in the pond and the
approaching sounds of the trio's voices. She started suddenly and
her perch became unstable, and she knew in an instant she would
fall.

This time, Juliet grimaced as she relived
her graceless fall to the earth. Time had seemed to move so slowly
as she dropped, then all too fast she landed. The two feelings she
retained from her disgrace complemented each other well: pain and
mortification. The pain she could blame on her sprained ankle and
wrist. The mortification came from being discovered in such a
state. She was equally embarrassed from lacking the skills to
maintain her perch as from being caught spying. While her brothers
laughed and jeered, Jonas checked her for broken bones, brushed the
leaves and other wooded detritus from her person, then picked her
up to carry her all the way back to Belle Rêverie. It was a trip
that gave her much to dream on for months.