Page 43 of The Duke’s Duet

"Italy offers many opportunities for a talented musician," he said carefully. "Greater freedom to pursue one's art without... complications."

The word 'complications' struck like a physical blow. Was that all she was to him now?

A complication to be dealt with?

Had their duet changed everything between them, not just by revealing their feelings but by making those feelings impossible to maintain?

"You're very kind to think of my career prospects, Your Grace." The formality felt like armour, protecting her suddenly vulnerable heart. "Though I wonder if Signor Bianchi's interest is entirely his own, or if perhaps someone suggested that he might find suitable talent here in London?"

A muscle ticked in Brightwood's jaw, and his fingers clenched on the window frame.

"Does it matter? The opportunity remains valuable, regardless of its provenance."

"Yes, I suppose it does." Melody rose, gathering her music with hands that trembled slightly. Each sheet felt heavy with memory - their annotations, their shared discoveries, all the moments when music had brought them closer together. "Though I find it interesting that you mention it now, so soon after our duet seemed to cause such... comment."

"Melody." Her name escaped him like a breath, soft and pained. He took a step towards her, then stopped, his hands clenching at his sides. The morning light caught in his eyes, revealing a storm of emotion that he couldn't quite hide. "I only want..."

"What, Your Grace?" She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes directly. All pretence of distance crumbled in that moment of connection. "What do you want?"

The question hung between them, weighted with everything that they couldn't say. Sunlight caught the angles of his face, highlighting the conflict in his expression. For a moment, Melody thought that he might actually answer, might finally speak the truth that sang between them whenever they made music together.

Instead, he turned away, and she watched his shoulders straighten as duty reasserted its grip.

"I want what's best for everyone involved. The concerts must continue - the veterans depend on the funds they raise. But perhaps... perhaps some distance would be wise."

"Distance." She repeated the word softly, tasting its bitterness. "Yes, I suppose it would be. Wise, that is. Though I'm beginning to wonder if wisdom and music have anything in common at all."

She moved towards the door, her skirts rustling in the suddenly heavy silence.

But his voice stopped her before she could escape.

"Will you consider it? The opportunity in Italy?"

Melody paused, her hand on the doorframe. Without turning, she asked the question that burned in her heart.

"Will you tell me honestly why you want me to?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.