The honesty in her voice made the room feel heavier for a moment. Amelia studied her carefully before speaking, choosing her words with care.
“Was she… unkind to you as well?” she asked softly, keeping her tone neutral.
Valerie’s jaw tightened slightly as she shook her head. “She did not hit me, if that is what you mean,” she replied, the words clipped but controlled.
Amelia nodded slowly, understanding that the absence of violence did not mean the absence of harm. She had learned that much about families in far less gentle ways than she would have liked.
“No,” she said quietly, “I did not think it was that simple.”
Valerie looked at her then, as though surprised by the answer, but she said nothing further. Amelia exhaled softly then changed direction deliberately, as though refusing to let the moment sink too deeply into sorrow.
“Have you ever danced properly?” Amelia asked suddenly, her tone brightening with purpose.
Valerie hesitated, clearly caught off guard by the shift in subject. “Of course, I have,” she replied, though she did not sound convincing.
Amelia smiled slightly, stepping closer. “Then you will not mind practicing with me,” she said, already turning as if the decision had been made.
Valerie immediately shook her head. “I could not,” she protested, taking a step back.
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “You will be making a public debut soon,” she reminded her gently. “You cannot frighten the entire room by refusing to move your feet.”
Valerie opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it again.
Amelia seized the opportunity, turning toward the doorway. “Which servants play instruments?” she called out, already thinking ahead.
After a brief exchange in the corridor, a maid confirmed that two footmen played violin and one cook occasionally played the pianoforte.
Amelia nodded decisively and clapped her hands once. “Perfect,” she declared. “We shall have a small orchestra.”
Within an hour, the drawing room had been transformed in ways that would have made any strict chaperone faint. The servants assembled awkwardly, instruments in hand, while Valerie stood frozen near the center of the room.
Amelia moved among them with brisk efficiency, arranging positions and offering encouragement where necessary. “This is not a concert,” she explained cheerfully. “It is merely practice.”
Valerie gave her a long, uncertain look. “This feels like a performance,” she muttered under her breath.
Amelia ignored the complaint with practiced ease and stepped back into position.
“Now,” she said, clapping her hands once more, “we begin.”
The first hesitant notes filled the room, uneven but earnest. Valerie stood still for a moment longer, then finally, reluctantly, shifted her weight. Amelia smiled to herself as the music gathered strength, thinking that sometimes movement was simply a matter of refusing to let stillness win.
Perhaps I will get through Valerie’s walls just yet.
Chapter Twelve
What nonsense now?
Gabriel heard the music long before he reached the drawing room though calling it music was generous at best. It drifted through the corridor in uneven waves, occasionally interrupted by discordant notes and what sounded suspiciously like laughter.
He paused halfway down the hall, frowning slightly as he tried to identify what in his household could possibly be responsible for such chaos. It was not scheduled, not approved, and certainly not something that should be happening under his roof. Yet the sound continued with infuriating persistence, as though rules were merely suggestions someone had chosen to ignore. With a resigned exhale, he followed it.
What he found made him stop entirely in the doorway.
The drawing room had been transformed into something unrecognizable, all polished order replaced by movement, noise, and careless joy.
David was spinning in circles near the center of the room, his laughter bright and unrestrained, while Valerie stood nearby, attempting something that resembled dancing but lacked her usual rigid control.
Even Grover darted between them, barking happily as though he had been invited to participate. Servants stood along the edges playing instruments with visible uncertainty, producing a mixture of fiddles, flutes, and uneven rhythm that somehow held the entire disaster together. And at the center of it all was Amelia.
