Page 40 of Duke of Moonstone
“I have not, but you do not strike me as a woman who does anything by half measures.”
Something shifted in her expression. A softening, brief and unguarded, that went through him like a hand pressed flat against his chest. Then she turned back to the viscount, and the moment passed.
“Music is a curious thing,” she said. “Most people hear it. Very few listen to it. There is a difference.”
“And what is the difference?” the baron asked.
“Hearing is passive. Listening requires attention—real attention. When you truly listen, music does not simply enter your ears. It reaches something deeper. It touches the heart. But only if you allow it to.”
The table fell silent. The viscount was watching her. So was the baron. So was the admiral, who had put down his spoon entirely. Their attention rested on her like light pooling on a single point, and Alexander sat beside her and felt something move through his chest that he identified, after a moment, as pride.
She is extraordinary.
The thought was there before he could stop it. He picked up his wine glass, drank, and told himself that pride was a reasonable response. She was his duchess. She was representing theWhitestone name at a table full of influential people. Of course, he was proud. It was appropriate.
It was also, if he was being honest, not the only thing he was feeling.
The viscount leaned closer. “You must play for us sometime, Your Grace. I should very much like to hear what music sounds like when it has been truly listened to.”
Frances’ laugher echoed—the one from the schoolroom and the carriage, the kind that filled any space and altered its temperature.
Something tightened behind Alexander’s ribs.
“You are very kind,” she said. “Though I warn you, I am partial to Beethoven, and he requires patience.”
“I have a great deal of patience,” the viscount said, and smiled at her in a way that was entirely too warm, and Alexander set down his wine glass with more force than he had intended.
The conversation continued. Frances answered questions about Italian opera and the differences between Handel and Mozart with an ease that suggested she had forgotten she was at a formal dinner and had simply begun talking about things she loved, and the effect was magnetic. The baron asked her opinion on a concert he had attended. The admiral wanted to know whether she sang as well as she played. The viscount continuedto lean, continued to smile, continued to direct his attention at her as though she were the only person at the table worth seeing.
She is free to speak with whomever she wishes. This is an arrangement. Nothing more.
Alexander repeated this to himself as the second course was cleared and the third arrived.
An arrangement. She owes me nothing beyond propriety. These men are being polite. That is all.
The feeling in his chest did not go away. It sat there, hot and tight and entirely unreasonable, and it grew worse every time the viscount spoke to her, worse still every time she answered him, and worst of all when she laughed again at something the man said that was not even particularly amusing.
This is foolish. You are being foolish.
He knew it was foolish. He knew it with the same clarity he applied to estate accounts and parliamentary strategy. The knowledge made no difference whatsoever.
By the time the pudding course arrived, Alexander’s jaw ached from clenching.
He set down his spoon, deciding to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.
CHAPTER 17
Alexander turned to Lady Halford, who sat at the head of the table with the serene composure of a woman who had hosted a hundred such evenings and would host a hundred more.
“Lady Halford, I must beg your forgiveness,” he said. “I find myself unwell this evening. A headache that will not abate. I fear we must take our leave.”
Frances turned to him. “A headache?” Concern moved across her face—seemingly genuine and immediate. “You did not mention it.”
“It came on suddenly.”
She studied him for a moment, and he kept her gaze with the calm confidence of a man who was not, in fact, suffering from anything that could be remedied by rest and a cold cloth. Then she turned to their hostess.
“Please forgive us, Lady Halford. I do hope we have not disrupted your evening. Everything has been truly wonderful.”
