Page 32 of The Duke’s Duet

Chapter Nine

Melody had stared at the handwritten note that had arrived with her morning chocolate, her fingers trembling slightly as they traced Brightwood's elegant script.

‘I have reconsidered. We shall perform the duet tomorrow evening. Might you come early today to rehearse? – B.’

She'd read the words a dozen times, yet still could hardly believe them. After their heated discussion about the duet, after his initial refusal, after the way he'd avoided any mention of it in their subsequent rehearsals... what had changed his mind?

Now, a few hours later, standing in Brightwood House's music room, watching him arrange scores on the pianoforte with precise, careful movements, she hardly dared breathe lest something shatter this fragile moment.

"Your Grace?" Her voice emerged softer than she’d intended. "Are you certain about this?"

He turned, and something in his expression made her heart skip. Gone was the careful mask of Ducal authority, replaced by a quiet determination that transformed his features.

"Quite certain."

He held out the score for Marcello's ‘Heart's Surrender’ - the piece she'd suggested for their duet.

"Though we'll need to practice intensively. The harmonies in the final section are particularly challenging."

Melody moved closer, acutely aware of his proximity as she took the music from his hands. His fingers brushed hers in the exchange, and that tiny contact sent awareness shooting through her like lightning.

"I've been practicing my part," she admitted. "Just in case..."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Why does that not surprise me?"

They began with scales to warm up their voices, but even these simple exercises revealed their natural harmony. Their voices seemed to seek each other out, blending and twining together as if they'd sung together for years instead of minutes.

When they moved on to the actual piece, Melody found herself almost holding her breath between phrases, amazed by how perfectly their voices matched. Harper's rich baritone supported and enhanced her soprano, adding depths she'd never heard in the piece before.

They worked through the morning and into the afternoon, stopping only when Mrs. Williams insisted that they take refreshment. Even then, they continued to discuss interpretation, phrasing, and the subtle ways that they could make the piece their own.

"Here," Harper said, pointing to a particular passage, "if you hold this note just a fraction longer, I can adapt the tempo to match. It will make the emotion more immediate."

Melody leaned closer to see where he indicated, catching the scent of sandalwood that always seemed to cling to him.

"Yes, and then when the harmony shifts here..."

Her voice trailed off as she realised how near they stood, how his breath stirred the loose curls by her ear.

He stepped back quickly, clearing his throat.

"Shall we try it again?"

They sang until their voices began to tire, until the sunlight slanting through the windows turned golden with approaching evening. Until Melody knew with absolute certainty that tomorrow's performance would be either their greatest triumph or their most spectacular disaster.

For how could they possibly hide what passed between them when they sang together? How could anyone who heard them doubt that this was more than just music?

*****

The next evening, Melody stood in the small antechamber adjoining the ballroom, her heart thundering against her ribs.

Her gown of deep crimson silk rustled with each nervous movement, the rich fabric catching the light from the wall sconces and throwing warm shadows across her skin. She hadn't consciously chosen the colour to complement the formal black Harper would wear, yet seeing their reflection together in the long mirror earlier had made her breath catch.

They looked like two halves of the same whole, his darkness to her light, his restraint to her passion.

Through the door, she could hear the usual pre-concert murmur of conversation, louder tonight than at previous performances.