Page 23 of The Duke’s Duet

"Would you like to try it?"

"Very much." Something in her tone made him look up sharply, but her expression was perfectly proper. "Shall we begin?"

As they worked through Richter's composition, Harper found himself increasingly caught up in the joy of sharing music he'd previously kept private. Melody's interpretation matched his own instincts perfectly, as if she had somehow divined the way that he played it during his solitary hours. She understood the tension in the piece - the way that it balanced strict classical form with moments of almost unbridled emotion.

When she suggested a slight variation in tempo for one particularly passionate section, he found himself agreeing without his usual resistance.

"Here," she said, touching a specific passage, "listen to how Richter builds the tension between what's proper and what's passionate."

The music flowed between them with growing confidence, each phrase building on the last until the room seemed to vibrate with shared understanding. Harper felt himself responding to her subtle cues, letting go of his rigid control as they explored the piece's deeper meanings together.

"Oh!" The Dowager Duchess's voice from the doorway startled them both. "Do forgive the interruption, but Miss Piper, might I have a word about Lady Sophia's proposed lessons?"

Melody glanced at Harper, who nodded, though it cost him to break their connection.

"Of course, Your Grace. I'll return shortly."

Left alone, Harper remained at the pianoforte, his fingers moving restlessly over the keys. Without conscious thought, he began to play the next section - the part where Richter had finally let passion overcome propriety, where the melody soared with all the composer's repressed feelings.

The music pulled him in, as it always did when he played this piece privately. His body swayed with the rhythm as he added his own small touches, subtle embellishments that made the interpretation uniquely his. When the vocal line began, he sang it softly, letting his voice carry all the emotion that he usually kept locked away.

Then another voice joined his - pure and perfect and utterly unexpected. Harper's hands faltered on the keys as Melody's voice wrapped around his, their harmonies blending as if they'd rehearsed it a hundred times. The piece seemed to take on new life with their voices joined, becoming something more than either of them had created alone.

He should stop. Should apologise for taking such liberties with Richter's work. Should retreat behind his careful walls. Instead, he found himself continuing to play, their voices weaving together in an intimate dance that made his heart race. In that moment, he understood exactly why Richter had risked his position at court to write such passionate music. When the piece ended, silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken things.

"Your Grace," Melody breathed, her eyes bright with something that made his pulse jump, "I ask you again, why did you never tell me you could sing like this? When you demonstrated that difficult piece last week, I understood that you were skilled, but this… this is far beyond that."

"It's not... that is..." He struggled to find words that wouldn't reveal too much. "A Duke should not..."

"Shouldn't share such a magnificent gift?" She moved closer, until he could see the tiny flecks of gold in her eyes. "Shouldn't let himself truly feel the music? Shouldn't let others see his passion?"

Each question struck like an arrow, piercing the armour he'd built around his heart.

"You don't understand. There are expectations, duties..."

"I understand that you're fighting yourself." Her voice softened. "I hear it in your playing - especially at night. Just as Richter fought himself, until he finally chose to be true to his art."

Harper's breath caught.

"You've heard..."

"My father always says music carries further than we think." A slight flush coloured her cheeks. "Sometimes, when I have stayed late to practice, I have heard you playing, as I leave. You're different then - free, passionate, alive with the music. Like you were just now."

He should be mortified that she'd witnessed his private moments. Instead, he felt strangely relieved, as if some burden had lifted.

"And what do you think of my late night performances, Miss Piper?"

"I think..." She hesitated, then lifted her chin with that challenging look he was coming to know too well. "I think that's the real you, Your Grace. The man behind the Duke. The artist behind the aristocrat." The truth of her words shook him. She saw him - truly saw him - in a way that no one else ever had. The realisation was both terrifying and exhilarating. "This piece," she continued, her voice taking on an odd tension, "do you know how it ended for Richter? What he chose?"

"He chose truth over safety." The words emerged rough with emotion. "Passion over propriety. And created something immortal in the process."

"Yes." She was standing too close now, close enough that he could see the rapid pulse at the base of her throat. "Some choices are worth any cost."

He knew the truth of that. God help him, he knew.

Just as he knew that they were no longer talking about Richter's music.

Before he could respond, footsteps in the hallway announced the Dowager Duchess' return. Melody stepped back quickly, turning to gather her music with hands that trembled slightly.

But as his mother entered the room, Harper found himself unable to look away from Melody's profile. The connection they'd found through Richter's piece had changed something between them - something that could never be unchanged.

And for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure he wanted to change it back.