Page 45 of The Duke’s Duet

"Less rigid?" Harper gave a harsh laugh. "Have you forgotten the rumours after our duet? The whispers, the implications? And that was just from performing together."

"Ah, but what a performance! Even my Lucy, who's seen every notable musician in London, said she'd never witnessed anything quite like it." Pembroke's voice grew serious. "That connection between you - it's rare. Beautiful. Are you really willing to throw it away because of what society might say?"

Harper's fingers tightened on his glass.

"You make it sound so simple. As if there weren't generations of duty and responsibility to consider. As if my choices affected only myself."

"No, not simple. But perhaps not as impossible as you think." Pembroke set his empty glass aside. "Consider this - you're taking her to Vauxhall tomorrow, ostensibly to advance her career. Yet we both know Signor Bianchi could have met her anywhere. You chose this setting - an evening of music and illuminations, of relative informality - for a reason."

"Your point being?"

"That despite all your protests about duty and distance, you're still finding ways to be near her. Still creating opportunities for connection." He rose, moving to clap Harper on the shoulder. "Maybe it's time to stop fighting yourself quite so hard."

After Pembroke left, Harper returned to standing at the window, watching rain trace patterns on the glass while his mind traced equally complex patterns of possibility. His friend wasn't entirely wrong - he had chosen Vauxhall deliberately, hoping that its informal atmosphere might ease some of the tension which had grown between him and Melody.

But was that kindness or cruelty? To offer her glimpses of connection while knowing that they could lead nowhere? To create moments of intimacy that would only make their eventual parting more painful?

The note inviting her had already gone out. Tomorrow evening would bring what it would bring.

But as Harper finally moved away from the window, he couldn't quite silence the hopeful whisper in his heart which suggested that maybe, just maybe, Pembroke was right about more than just his motivations.

*****

Vauxhall Gardens glowed with hundreds of lanterns, their light turning the evening into something magical. Harper found himself watching Melody's face as she took in the spectacle - the illuminated walkways, the elegant supper boxes, the distant sound of music drifting from various pavilions. Her evident delight made his chest ache with an emotion he dared not name.

She looked different tonight, somehow both more and less formal than during their rehearsals. Her evening gown of pale blue silk caught the lantern light, making her seem to glow from within. She'd dressed her hair more simply than usual, and occasional breeze caught at the loose curls around her face in a way that made his fingers itch to smooth them back.

"The Chinese Pavilion is particularly lovely this evening," Lady Pembroke commented, steering them along one of the illuminated paths. "And I believe that's where Signor Bianchi's party has settled."

Harper noticed how she'd manoeuvred things so that he and Melody walked slightly ahead of herself and Charles, giving them the illusion of privacy while maintaining proper supervision. Lucy Pembroke's romantic nature clearly extended to matchmaking.

"I've never seen anything quite like this," Melody said softly, her eyes taking in everything. "It's like something from a fairy tale."

"The gardens are famous for their illuminations." He found himself matching her quiet tone, drawn into the intimacy of the moment despite his best intentions. "Though I confess, I usually avoid such public entertainments."

She glanced at him sideways, a hint of mischief in her expression.

"Too informal for a Duke's dignity?"

"Too..." He hesitated, then decided on honesty. "Too exposed. Here, people feel free to approach, to initiate conversation. The usual barriers of society grow thin."

"And is that such a terrible thing?" Her voice held genuine curiosity. "For barriers to thin occasionally?"

Before he could answer - before he could decide how honest he dared to be - they reached the Chinese Pavilion. The structure blazed with coloured lanterns, casting rainbow shadows across its elaborate decoration.

"Ah, Your Grace!" A booming voice with a pronounced Italian accent cut through the evening air. "And this must be the songbird I have heard so much about!" Signor Bianchi proved to be a short, rotund man whose energy seemed barely contained by his elegant evening clothes. He swept into an elaborate bow, then seized Melody's hand and kissed it with theatrical flourish. "Such a pleasure, my dear! Your reputation precedes you. The Duke has written most eloquently of your talents."

Harper caught Melody's quick glance in his direction and silently cursed Bianchi's loose tongue. He hadn't meant her to know about his letters praising her abilities - it would only confuse an already complicated situation.

But watching her engage with the impresario, he found himself caught between pride and pain. Her knowledge of music was evident in every word, her passion for the art shining through as she discussed different interpretative styles. Bianchi was clearly impressed, his initial flamboyant manner giving way to genuine professional interest.

"You must come to Italy," the impresario declared finally. "Such talent, such understanding - you would be a sensation! I am preparing a series of concerts in Florence, beginning in the autumn. The very thing to establish your international reputation."

Harper watched Melody's face as Bianchi outlined the opportunity - the concerts, the potential patrons, the artistic freedom she would have in Italy. Her eyes lit up at certain details, particularly the mention of performing lesser-known works, of having input into program selection. Everything about the offer was perfect for her talents, her ambitions.

So why did his chest feel like it was being squeezed in a vice?

"The Duke tells me that you have a particular gift for emotional interpretation," Bianchi continued enthusiastically. "This is exactly what we need! Italian audiences, they understand passion in music. None of this English restraint."