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Belle laughed, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. Her shoulder bumped Stephen’s and, unable to stop herself from indulging, she leaned slightly into him. “Forgive me, my mistake.”
Lily nodded her acceptance of the apology and said, “While you four enjoy these sweets, Julia and I will be performing for you.”
“Oh, truly?” Anne said, perking up. She looked at Belle and Stephen. “These two are quite talented, you know. My favorite thing is to watch them perform.”
“We’ve written a song for this occasion specifically,” Julia explained. She brought over a small stool and set it down in the middle of the room, sitting with her legs crossed. Lily went over to the corner of the room where she pulled a large white sheet off to reveal a pianoforte. She sat in the chair and ran her fingers lightly over the keys.
Belle couldn’t believe her eyes. “You know how to play?”
“My aunt is a singer in opera,” Lily said. “And she was the one who taught me a long time ago. I haven’t played in a while, though.”
“I thought you had given up on it,” Robert commented.
“I just hadn’t found the time to do it anymore, but I think it would be nice to show our guests what we’re made of. Don’t you think so, Julia?”
“Most certainly,” Julia agreed with a broad grin. “I’m ready when you are.”
Lily pressed her first key. The sound of the single note filled the room gloriously, bringing Belle back to the time she had learned the pianoforte herself, the hours she had spent on a stool similar to Lily’s when she’d wanted nothing more than to go riding.
Soon, the room was filled with the beautiful sound of Lily’s playing. Belle studied her friend as she played, watching the way she swayed gently to the melody she created. She’d swept her hair to one side and the softness of the candlelight washed her face in an ethereal glow that seemed to bring her music to life. And then Julia began to sing.
Belle’s eyes darted to the younger sister. Her eyes were now closed, her lips parted slightly as she started on a low, breathy tone. Her voice was beautiful, so calming yet it made her hair stand on end. She matched Lily’s playing effortlessly, as if the two of them were one and the same.
I could listen to this forever.Julia sang a song of romance and love, of happiness and beauty. The words washed over her, bringing a tear to her eye. Belle felt something touch her hand and when she looked down, Stephen was taking it in his.
She looked up at him. Their hands were hidden between each other and with everyone else preoccupied with the performance, they wouldn’t see what they were doing. They wouldn’t see the soft look in his eyes and the way he squeezed her hand, as if he wanted her to know that the same words Julia sang were the ones he felt. Belle didn’t know if she should interpret it as such, but goodness, she wanted to.
Lily and Julia’s performance came to an end entirely too quickly. When they were done, Belle pulled her hand away from Stephen’s to give them her best applause, not bothering to wipe away the tear still on her cheek.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a marvelous performance,” Belle said honestly. “That was certainly more beautiful than I expected it to be.”
“It was indeed wonderful, my dears,” Anne said. Belle was relieved to see that she wasn't the only who had been moved by the song. “That might have been the best one I’ve heard yet. And you say you two came up with that song”
“We did!” Julia said excitedly. “We were hoping it would capture what you and Father felt for each other.”
“It did,” Robert said. “And then some. It was truly lovely, girls. And this cake is quite delicious as well.” He lifted the slice he had in his hand and the sisters laughed.
Lily got to her feet, took her sister by her hand, and they both bowed to everyone else in the room. Belle was tempted to give them another round of applause.
“I’m happy you all liked it,” she said. “Now, enjoy the sweets. I worked really hard on them both. You know baking isn’t my strong suit.”
Before Belle could attempt to, Stephen leaned over and cut a slice, handing it to her. Belle tilted her head to the side, lifting her hand to her face. “That’s odd. For a moment, I thought my hands weren’t working.”
Stephen huffed a laugh. “Is it so wrong for me to want to help you?”
“Not at all,” she said, “but you always want to help me.”
“I can’t seem to help myself.”
Belle found it difficult to breathe when he said things like that. Especially when it was in such a low, breathy tone. The others were talking among themselves and Belle was suddenly happy to be secluded from the conversation. “What will you do when I can walk again then?” she asked him.
“You mean when you’re gone?” Stephen made a show of thinking about it. “I’m not sure. Perhaps I’ll simply cry myself to sleep thinking about how much I miss helping you at every chance I get.”
She giggled. “Somehow, I don’t doubt it, Stephen.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
She wanted him to kiss her again, but since they were among company, Belle resigned herself to simply enjoying their conversation. But, before long, her need grew to towering heights. She could no longer control her yearning for him, could no longer have him by her side and not be able to at least hold his hand without thinking about how the others would react. So, she faked a small yawn and said, “I’d hate to be the first one to say this but....”
