Natalie made a face. “No thank you. I do not fancy losing to you again.”
“You did not lose that badly last time.” Emily smiled.
Natalie gaped at her. “It took you nine moves to checkmate me.”
“That is better than 5. You're improving!” Emily laughed and ducked out of the way of the pillow Natalie threw at her. “Ow!”
“I am not playing chess with you until I have honed my skills enough that you will not thrash me so thoroughly.” Natalie’s stomach growled. “Besides, I am feeling rather peckish. And you must be ravenous, you have only eaten lunch today.”
Emily’s own stomach let out a most unladylike noise and she laughed with Natalie. “Perhaps a light snack would do us good.”
“Wonderful, I suspect Alexander will have had the cooks make something special to celebrate Marie's engagement.” Natalieglanced at Emily, concern in her face as they began to make their way towards the kitchens.. “I know you did not want to marry Lord Baine, but I imagine this is all rather hard on you.”
Emily was about to tell Natalie that she was fine, and then stopped herself.You have to let them in.“It is and it is not. It is hard knowing that I will not be leaving here engaged. But I do not begrudge Marie and Lord Baine their happiness. I am glad they have found one another. And we would have been a lacklustre pairing at best.”
“I wonder why your sisters thought he would be such a good match for you?” Natalie mused.
“I am not sure. In some ways I think that was what hurt so much. In pairing me with him it felt like they did not truly know me.” Emily sighed. “Oh well, at least I can rest safely in the knowledge that their matchmaking days are over. This was, after all, my last chance.”
Natalie gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You never know what might happen. There are some women in the ton who have been married at a far later age. I believe that Dame Harriet Winsby was only married last year, and she is at least four and thirty!”
“Dame Harriet is also a highly respected peer of the realm and happens to be one of the richest women in the country.”
“Well, we just need to figure out how you can become fabulously wealthy and respected. Or I suppose we could alwaystry and find you a husband abroad.” Natalie pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Peter will no doubt go on his tour of the continent, and Alexander has said I might also travel, though not in the same way as my brother. Perhaps you could come with me?”
Emily’s heart sped up. “Really?”
“I see no reason against it. Though it is still several years away, you may well be married by then and you might not wish to go.” Natalie’s face fell.
“Well, perhaps we shall both be married and then we can go on a couple’s trip around the continent.” Emily said, though she did not feel particularly hopeful that she would be married. “Or I shall be that elderly and bedraggled spinster who dogs your every footstep and whom your husband loathes because of it.”
“He shall simply have to get used to it.” Natalie laughed.
Emily could not help but laugh with her. It eased some of the pain in her chest. At least a little. Her eyes drifted to the music room as they walked past, and she stopped. The pianoforte lingered before her, and she could almost smell the amber.
She could see Luke sitting at the keys, mapping sounds to notes and colours. Nodding as she spotted patterns and encouraging her when she was disheartened.
Without thinking, she took a seat at the pianoforte. She heard Natalie stop walking, and watch her from the door. Emily couldsense her hesitancy, and jerked her head towards her, extending the invitation to her friend.
She closed her eyes.How can the smell of amber still linger so strong?Her fingers played a few experimental notes. Warming up. She thought about the day and all that had passed.
Smiling, she played a melody that was the brown she thought would be Lord Baine’s favourite colour and she married it with the sweet red that was Marie’s. It was a bouncy and light tune, and she heard Natalie gasp.
She has not really heard me play. Not like this. Not for a long time.Amber washed over her, mixed with rain water, so strong that Emily could have sworn that the Duke had entered the room. But it was just her imagination.
Her longing. She kept her eyes closed, but the smell… She changed her tune, capturing all the moments she had shared with Luke. The treasure hunt and the clues.
The sweet pink of the joy she had felt as she had read them. The purple note of admiration in his voice when she had told him about everything she had done.
“A forest chase.” She muttered. “Stolen treasure – green and amber.”
She let everything that she had pushed to the side flow through her and into the pianoforte. And then, other notes joined hers. These were deeper, richer.
It reminded her of Thursdays, of arguing with Luke about which colour they should be. It reminded her of a night, when she had found him playing by himself.
“Luke.” Her eyes flew open.
The smell of amber had not been her imagination. Luke stood before her, his fingers on the pianoforte, a small puddle forming around him.
