"They were friends. As children. Like us."
"What happened to them?"
"Life. Matrimony. Class divisions. The usual things that destroy friendships."
"But the song survived."
"Songs always survive. It's people who don't."
"We're surviving."
"Barely."
"Still counts."
She left then, before the conversation could circle back to dangerous territory. But as she climbed the stairs to her room, she could hear him playing again, their mothers' song, over and over, as if he was trying to remember something or forget something or possibly both.
In her narrow bed, Clara stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about Gabriel's hands on the keys, or the way his voice hadsounded singing with hers, or the fact that in a few months, she'd have to leave.
Until spring, she reminded herself.That's all. Just until spring.
But spring, she was beginning to realise, was both too far away and far too close.
CHAPTER8
“Disgraceful! The state of this house! And I hear you've hired some common girl…"
Clara woke to the sound of arguing.
This wasn't unusual in itself…Gabriel and Edmund had taken to having spectacular rows at least twice a week, usually about Gabriel's refusal to engage with the outside world. But this argument had a different quality to it, was a female voice, shrill and demanding, cutting through Gabriel's lower rumble like a knife through butter.
Clara dressed quickly, curiosity overcoming propriety, and made her way downstairs. The voices were coming from the entrance hall, and as she drew closer, she could make out words.
"Aunt Agatha." Gabriel's voice was flat, dangerous. "What an unexpected displeasure."
Clara peered around the corner. The entrance hall contained Gabriel, Edmund, and a woman who could only be described as aggressively aristocratic. She was tall, thin and dressed in purple silk that had probably cost more than Clara had ever seen in her life. Her expression suggested she'd smelled something unpleasant and suspected everyone else of being the source.
"Don't take that tone with me, boy," Lady Agatha snapped. "I'm your father's sister. I have every right to check on the estate."
"You have no rights here at all."
"I have a duty to the family name, which you seem determined to destroy."
"How efficient of me."
"This isn't amusing, Gabriel. The rumors in London…"
"Are none of your concern."
"A duke hiding in his crumbling estate with only a mysterious woman for company? That's everyone's concern!"
Edmund coughed. "I'm also here frequently."
Lady Agatha dismissed him with a wave. "You don't count."
"I'm constantly telling him that," Gabriel said.
"This isn't a joke!" Lady Agatha's voice rose to a pitch that probably disturbed bats. "You have responsibilities! You need to wed, produce an heir, take your seat in Parliament…"
