After his usual exploration of a new space, Tristan took up residence in a sunbeam on the windowsill facing the street and patentlyignored Ezekiel and Nora.At least the beast had decided to behave himself today.
The repeated measures of a simple, quiet melody further veiled their conversation as Ezekiel regarded her from his place on the bench.He’d already discarded his jacket, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, an entirely too appealing look.“Now that we don’t have an audience, how are you really faring today?”
Nora blew out a breath as she thumbed through the pages of the libretto he was composing the score for.How did she answer truthfully without crying yet again?He’d endured enough of that from her already.Surely there had to be an end to these tears at some point.
“Like Mum died, and I’ve been denied a funeral or the right to acknowledge that she’s no longer part of my life.”
His free hand captured hers.“There’s always hope she will recover and be released.”
Not really, but it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know.She’d continued to hide her family’s secret even after he’d shared his.Oh, she wanted to tell him.Sort of.Maybe she’d be more willing if she didn’t constantly feel the need to look over her shoulder or see Winston everywhere she went.But that niggling fear she would turn into Mum made her want to shield him from the truth, to protect her heart from watching his opinion of her change.Right now, he thought her worthy of pursuing.He truly cared for her and noticed things about her that no other man had.Those sardines would forever stand out in her mind as proof.And then there was the way he looked at her even now.Tender.Gentle.Affectionate.
His making little circles on the back of her hand made it harder to be honest about her past and likely future.
“Nora.”Even the way he said her name made her want to curl up in his arms and pretend they had a future beyond friendship.“I know you’re scared that it won’t be true, but what does it hurt to hope?”
“It hurts to hope because when it doesn’t happen, it hurts all the worse.”
He didn’t shame her for her honesty, only nodded and squeezed her hand.“Then I’ll hope enough for the both of us.”
She pulled free and waved the libretto.“We came here to work on composing music, and I, for one, need the distraction.”
“All right.Do you want to hear what I’ve composed so far or jump right into the heroine’s aria about love?”
Good gracious, did he have to be so direct about the type of aria?“Perhaps it would be best to start from the beginning.Did Mr.Linville tell you which voices he wanted for each role?”
“He left it up to me, but I took into account the types generally used for particular story roles.Although I am tempted to change Princess Seraphina from a soprano to a mezzo.”And there went that flirtatious smile.
“And I suppose if you did, you would want to change her love interest”—she flipped to the list of characters at the beginning—“Captain Alaric, into a bass.”
“I don’t see why not.”He stared at her as his hands toyed with a harmony of bass- and mezzo-range notes.“I think they’d make a striking duet.”
Given basses weren’t ever seen as romantic leads, she got the distinct impression he was referring to more than the piece, but he wasn’t wrong about the melodic lines working well together.The motifs he played did sound good.There was a certain longing and yearning to the musical phrases, like a heart afraid to hope but daring to try.How well she resonated with that.Maybe starting with the duet wouldn’t be a bad idea.“But wouldn’t you have to start over with what you’ve already written?”
“Not really.Composers regularly write the music for the singers they have in mind.”
“It’s your score.I’m only here to give my opinions and suggestions.”
“You’re more than opinions and suggestions.You’re my partner in this.So what do you think—should we start with ‘Whispers in the Dark’?”
She flipped to the section labeled as such and read through thepassionate duet where Seraphina and Alaric confessed their love, though neither knew the identity of the other.This operetta had more parallels to her life than she cared to admit.Ezekiel did not know her true identity as Eleonora Brisbane and all that it entailed.She could easily understand Seraphina’s desire to be known and loved by Alaric, to share who she was, but too afraid of the consequences.
“It’s exactly where we should start,” Nora said.“And we should work with that combination you just played.I think it will fit.”
For the next while they alternated between testing musical phrases, exploring how music could support and convey the emotions of Seraphina and Alaric, and even singing sections to see if the desired effect had been achieved.It was marvelous.All the troubles of the last week became distant worries as the music and working with Ezekiel captivated her.She loved watching the song take form beneath his fingers as he became lost in playing and feeling the music.He’d figure out a section, rush to record it on the musical ledger, play it again, and add more.They only had a rough working, but as they neared three o’clock, he wanted Nora to sing what they had straight through to ensure they were on the right path before he left.
Having worked with the song’s creation, she knew it better than anything she’d ever practiced with Mum.How I wish I could share this with her.She’d be thrilled to hear Nora had performed, even if only in a parlor where the audience was the composer and a neighbor.A tear slipped out as she prepared to sing.Ezekiel might need the music to fulfill his obligations, but she needed it to feel close to Mum.To hold on to a piece of her that would be lost if Father had his way.She couldn’t let music go.Not again.Never again.If this was the only way to keep Mum in her life and memory, Nora would sing.Maybe she’d even perform on a stage.
Yes.That’s what she’d do.If Mrs.Reed’s offer still stood, Nora would take those lessons.What better way to take the stage than with the music of the man who’d brought something back to her she’d thought forever lost?A life full of music, opera, and perhaps the stage.Maybe she, like Princess Seraphina, would toss aside hermask, declare who she really was to the man she loved, and rebel against Father’s tyranny.Of course, she didn’tloveEzekiel yet, but it didn’t take much time with him to consider love an eventual possibility.
She nodded for Ezekiel to begin and sang with all the yearning and hope for a future free of the chains that her soul contained.The crescendo of Seraphina’s love declaration met with Alaric’s own in a passion rivaling Juliet’s for Romeo.When she finished, Ezekiel stared at her with the awe and admiration of a man in ...well, a manheading towardlove.Instead of the realization terrifying her, it made her heart do a strange little dance.
He rose and took her hands, looking at her as the most treasured gift he’d ever beheld.They were close enough that their shoes touched and her skirts brushed against him.It would be far too easy to bend a little at the waist and lean into him, maybe even rock to her toes and kiss him.She blinked.Goodness.What was wrong with her?She swallowed hard against the rogue desire.They were friends.That was all.It was simply the magic of music muddling her brain.Mum had always said that to sing one’s best, one must become the character.That’s all Nora had done, and she was still trapped as Seraphina, looking into the eyes of the man she dared to love and wishing for all the things she could not have.
“Nora.”He tilted forward as if he too felt the forbidden draw.He stopped too far away to expect a kiss, but his voice was huskier than usual.“That was ...You were magnificent.Even if you don’t take lessons with Mrs.Reed, you have to let me introduce you to Graham.I cannot imagine another woman playing Seraphina.”
“You’re saying that because we worked on it together.”
“I say it because it’s true.”His hand cupped her cheek as his fingertips stroked the curve of her jaw with maddening tenderness.“You belong on a stage, Donna Anna.”
