Page 20 of The Duke’s Duet

"You look troubled, dearest. Was the concert not successful?"

"The concert was..." Melody sank into her chair, trying to find words to describe the complex emotions of the previous evening. "It was perfect. Too perfect."

Emma's eyes narrowed as she poured the chocolate.

"Tell me everything."

So Melody did, the words pouring out in a rush - the way that Brightwood's playing had evolved, the connection they'd shared through the music, Lady Sophia's unexpected request, the Dowager Duchess's intervention.

Only their final private moment in the music room she kept to herself, too uncertain of its meaning to share it, even with her dearest friend.

"Melody." Emma's voice held warning. "You're falling in love with him."

"Don't be ridiculous. I simply admire his musical talent."

"The way you speak of him... it's not just about the music. I've never heard you talk about anyone this way."

"He's a Duke, Emma. I'm nobody."

"Exactly." Emma reached across the table to grasp her hand. "Which is why you must guard your heart. Do you remember Maria Bellini?"

Melody's throat tightened.

Everyone in their circle knew that story - the brilliant soprano who had fallen in love with an Earl, only to be cast aside when he tired of her.

She had fled to Italy, her reputation in tatters.

"This is different," she protested. "His Grace is not like that. He's honourable, dedicated to his art—"

"He's a Duke," Emma cut in gently. "Whatever his personal qualities, he has obligations to his title, his family. He cannot marry a music master's daughter, no matter how talented she might be."

"I never said anything about marriage!"

"No? Then why are you blushing?" Emma sighed. "Just... be careful, dearest. I couldn't bear to see you hurt."

Melody stared into her chocolate, remembering the way that Brightwood had looked at her in the music room, the way that his touch had lingered when he’d helped her into the carriage.

"I know that you're right. I do. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"When we perform together, when the music flows between us... it feels like anything is possible. Like all those barriers don't exist."

"But they do exist." Emma squeezed her hand. "And they always will."

Melody nodded, trying to accept her friend's wisdom.

But even as she turned the conversation to safer topics, she couldn't quite forget the way that Brightwood had smiled at her during their performance - that rare, genuine expression that transformed his entire face and made her heart soar higher than any music ever could.

"Tell me about Lady Sophia's request," Emma said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "That could be quite an opportunity."

But before Melody could respond, the tea room door opened to admit several elegant ladies of the ton.

Among them was the Dowager Duchess of Brightwood, who caught Melody's eye and inclined her head in gracious acknowledgment.

Melody's pulse jumped.

What was she doing here, so far from her usual social circles?

And why did her knowing smile suggest that she had plans that went far beyond arranging music lessons for Lady Sophia?