Page 43 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

“Thank you, Mr. Beethoven,” she whispered, a happy smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Even with the piece finished, she couldn’t bring herself to stop and brushed her fingers silently over the ivory and ebony keys. It was a beautiful instrument—one of the finest she’d ever sat behind—and her playing certainly hadn’t done it justice, not after two years of not practicing and not being able to press both levers to enhance the notes. Yet her heart could have sung with happiness!

Michael had been right that afternoon when he said that the wonderful tea he’d put together for them during their ride would spoil their appetites for dinner. She’d been unable to stomach the idea of a large roast beef dinner with all the trimmings and wanted only a long, hot bath to wash away the scent of horse and sooth her sore muscles—and other parts of her—that were unused to sitting on horseback for so long. She also needed space and quiet to think. So she’d retired upstairs after they’d returned and asked Mrs. Hansen to arrange for a small tray for her in her room.

Michael had been right about the other, too, though. Drat him.

She couldn’t spend the rest of her life hiding in her room, simply watching while the world went by. Today’s ride had proven that. She’d been certain she couldn’t do it, that she wouldn’t be able to control the horse or maintain her seat, that she would fall and hurt herself. The thought of it had terrified her, right up until the little mare carried her so steadfastly down the lane and into the field. Then she lost her fear and let herself be swept away by the exhilaration of being on horseback again.

So she decided that if she’d been able to ride a horse, there was no reason why she also couldn’t enjoy playing the pianoforte…alone in a dark room, that is, with the pianoforte top closed to dampen the sound so no one could hear her mistakes. Dinner was long over by the time she asked Thomas to bring her into the room, with the children up in the nursery, Michael settling into his own rooms for the evening, and Mrs. Bailey once again busily attending to some obscure task in the work rooms. Gratefully, Clara had the music room all to herself with no fear of being seen or heard.

Her rusty playing lacked the smooth finesse it had once possessed. But the act itself…oh, how she loved running her fingers across the keys again! Just as with riding that afternoon, the thought of playing had initially terrified her, with doubts swirling in her head that she could ever play the same as she had before the accident, that she was a fool to even try.

Yet once she’d taken a deep breath and plunged intoFür Elise, the sensation was wonderful, the sound heavenly.

She trailed her hand across the keys, thrilled to hear any sound at all coming from her own fingers again.

As the soft vibrations of notes faded into the shadows, she paused in the silence that followed, lowered her hands to her lap, and took a slow look around. A glass of claret waited for her beside the comfortable chair in front of the fire when she finished playing, while the tall windows gave sweeping views of the moonlit park stretching out from the house. Being here was lovely and so much better than her bedroom, she had to admit. Warm, dark, quiet…

“Free.” The word was nothing more than a breathless whisper on her lips, but she felt as if her heart had shouted it from the hilltops.

A soft scratch sounded at the closed door, and she turned on the bench.

“Yes?” she called out.

The door opened slowly, and Eads stepped into the room. “Pardon me for interrupting you, my lady.”

“No interruption at all.” She smiled, having grown found of the butler and all the servants at Northbourne. “What is it?”

“Our groom Gordon just returned from his trip north with Lord Camden.”

Anthony.She caught her breath, steeling herself for news from Raleigh Hall and praying all was well with Marie. “Yes?”

“He brought this message for you.” Eads came forward to present the letter on a silver salver.

She mumbled her thanks and took the sealed note card. “Does Wakefield know yet that Gordon’s returned with news from my brother?”

“Yes, my lady.” He lowered the salver to his side. “His Grace asked me to tell you that he is in the nursery, saying goodnight to the children, but will be down as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.” Of course Michael was with the children. He doted on them. But Clara also knew he would delay to give her time to read Anthony’s note in private. He was nothing if not considerate. He always had been.

Eads closed the door after himself, giving her back her privacy.

Taking a deep breath, she broke the red wax seal and offered up a silent prayer that Marie and the baby were both fine as she unfolded the letter.

Dearest Clara,

I wanted to send word to you as soon as possible to put your heart at ease.

Good news, then. He simplyhadto have sent good news…

Gordon and I reached Raleigh Hall safely after much delay along the northern roads due to the increasing depths of drifted snow. The nearly impassible road conditions coupled with the cold made me certain I had made the right decision in asking you to remain at Northbourne until you could be brought safely north.

Askingher to remain behind? She couldn’t bite back a laugh at that.

Marie sends her love. She is well, although still very much with child, and being well cared for by her parents, who arrived a fortnight ago from Edinburgh and are as anxious as Marie and I for the birth. The baby’s refusal to be born undoubtedly demonstrates a stubborn trait picked up from his Auntie.

Clara grimaced at the teasing. Leave it to Anthony to try to put her at ease by baiting her.