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Chapter Eight
Molly looked up past the simple black-and-gold Vogel Piano sign to the second story of the tidy brick building. Frederick’s quarters were above the workshop, near Golden Square in Soho.
Could I live here?
Her heart pounded as she contemplated the notion. Moving had no appeal—she didn’t want to leave the Robertson household. Nor was she eager to leave service, especially since she disbursed most of her wages to her family.
For all her excitement about Frederick and his impending proposal of marriage, somehow she hadn’t thought through the implications of living arrangements until she arrived at this shop.
Can I even truly be a wife?
The thought of giving up her own attic chamber brought terror. That space was hers, a retreat where she had no cause to hide her true self.
“Make way, miss!” Thomas warned.
She opened the door so that Thomas and Alvin, a footman, could carry in the first of various large piano cabinet pieces for Frederick to restore in his workshop. He’d disassembled the entire instrument in the music room, and while some refurbishment could take place there, certain parts required more time and specialized tools.
“Good day!” Frederick intoned briskly without looking up. He wore an apron over his suit and was concentrating on the tuning pin he held.
Molly paused in the doorway, struck by the care with which he held the object as he rolled it in his large fingers, inspecting its every surface. She crossed her arms over her chest to contain the tingles that moved through her breasts. Only when he set it down did she swallow and greet him quietly.
He looked up with surprise. “Molly!” As the shock wore off, a grin spread.
“Good day, Frederick. I hope you don’t mind my calling.”
“It’s the best thing that’s happened to me this week! Please, come in.”
When she entered, he looked curiously at the fabric-wrapped parcel in her arms, and she hugged it protectively, trying not to look suspicious as Alvin and Thomas passed her on their way out to fetch more parts.
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. As soon as the door closed, she spoke urgently. “If you have the time today, would you invite me to stay for a bit?”
He nodded happily. “I have no appointments this afternoon. It’s a workshop day.”
“When they return, could you ask me to stay behind to discuss the refurbishment? Or perhaps the music library?”
His eyes sparkled, though he shuttered the look as soon as she opened the door again.
He cleared his throat and addressed Molly when the young men stepped in. “I’ve drafted the correspondence in German to the publishers on Lady Clara’s behalf, but I require more information from you before I can finish it. Forgive the disturbance to your schedule, miss, but would you have time to remain for a bit today?”
“Oh! I shouldn’t want the requests for the scores to be delayed. Most certainly not. Very well, yes, I shall stay for a spell. Erm, Alvin, you needn’t wait for me. I’ll find my own way back.”
Alvin nodded, focusing on carrying his end of the large piano lid. Thomas bit his lip, a thick hank of blond hair falling over his forehead. He shot her a quick look, and she saw his worry.
“I’ll be fine, Thomas.”
They settled the lid on the large worktable covered with padded fabric.
“It’s sad seeing it apart from the piano like this. It looks terribly warped,” Molly observed.
“It needs restoring, that’s for certain.” He spoke with quiet confidence. “It will look new when I’m finished.”
Molly listened to his description of the process, finding the details reassuring. She felt personally responsible for the outcome of the project now that her duties were so specifically tailored.
“The last step when the wood’s reshaped is a good French polishing.” He gestured to the workbench against the wall. “Several layers of shellac will give a considerable gloss and deepen the color of the wood. It’s a lovely grain on that lid, it just needs some care and attention.”
Fortunate lid, she thought before glancing over to the area he’d indicated.
Mercy! She nearly dropped the carefully wrapped books. Tightening her arms and swallowing, she stared at Frederick’s work space.
