Silas raised his hands as if indicating the answer was obvious. “Then you are still with the trio and I am here to help with organizing yourtours.”
He squeezed Emily’s arm to emphasize his earlier conditions on his help. “It is all up to you, mydear.”
Emily forcefully pulled her arm away from Silas’sgrip.
* * *
Emily had just finished a vigorous practice with Giles at his studio. Emily was exhausted and took several glasses of water after she closed the cover on the piano’skeyboard.
“Splendid, Emily. The Scarlatti piece is coming along nicely. Are you happy withit?”
“I believeso.”
“You sound uncertain,” Gilesadded.
“Oh, Giles, I am greatly conflicted. What am I to do about continuing with thetrio?”
Giles came over and sat next to her on the piano bench. “Cara, we have discussed this repeatedly. You know how I feel. And here you have this wonderful opportunity from the Duke to become a successful soloist and yet you hold back out of loyalty to your family—quashing any hope you might have for a truly magnificentcareer.”
“I know, Giles, you are correct. I do want that career, but I am also torn by loyalty to my family. If I were to break away, I would have to know there was some provision for my sisters to be able to continue on with their careers as well. I cannot just abandonthem.”
Giles sat with his hands folded in his lap, thinking. “Maybe there might be away.”
“Oh, really? What do you have in mind?” she asked, looking over at him, hopeful that he might have theanswer.
He wagged his finger at her, cautioning her not to press too hard just yet. “I have an idea, but I must speak to several peoplefirst.”
Emily grabbed his arm and turned toward him on the bench. “Giles, you are too terrible. Tell me atonce.”
He laughed. “Not yet. You must be patient with me. It is a long shot and I do not want to get your hopes up justyet.”
She swatted at his arm. “You had better have a great idea and it had better be a stellar success.” She laid her arms on the keyboard cover and rested her head on her arms. “Giles, I really want this to happen. I realize now, I want this more thananything.”
Giles patted her back. “I will do everything I can for you, my dear. You knowthat.”
Chapter 7
When Mark was restless, or confused or troubled, he liked to go for a long ride around the estate. He had his favorite places he liked to go. One of which was a marshy area at the edge of a lake. There were reeds and cattails growing along the shore that hid him from easy view should anyone pass by and he could indulge himself in one of his guilty pleasures—fishing. He kept a fishing pole hidden underneath a clump of bushes, and when he wanted to empty his mind he would dig near the edge of the marsh and find a few earthworms to use as bait on his hook. Then he would cast out his line and watch the bobber and think about nothing. And when, with great surprise, he actually caught something, he would unhook the poor creature and toss it back into the pond, relieved that he would not need to gut and scale the poor fish. Of course, he could just take the fish to Cook to prepare, but there was rarely enough meat on the scamp to make itworthwhile.
Sophie had been on his mind ever since the day of the meeting with Emily and Giles. There was an unspoken assumption of marriage between the two. They had grown up together and it was convenient not to have to go scouting for a suitable wife. They were comfortable together, but hardlypassionate.
Sophie was the kind of woman who loved being courted but was not at all enthusiastic about showing any real emotion, except for the pouty jealousy she showed the other day when confronted withEmily.
Mark had to laugh at that. He had given her no evidence that he was particularly interested in Emily, but it still elicited Sophie’s unpleasant response. And then he remembered how gracious Emily had been by insisting Sophie stay for lunch. What a splendid gesture and that only made Emily rise in hisesteem.
And what about this Emily? There was no doubt in his mind she was a handsome, attractive woman. She had a dignified, almost statuesque, beauty that was elevated almost to the level of the classic beauty found in the paintings of his art collection. And that did not even take into account her stunning talent. But why was he even thinking of her? She would not be an acceptable wife to either his father or his grandmother. She was not of his class and could not seriously be considered as the newDuchess.
“Ah, a bite,” he exclaimed as he jerked on the pole to securely hook the fish. And up it came wriggling and twisting on the line. But yet anotherdisappointment.
Mark unhooked the poor baby. “Not worth the effort, old man. Back you go. You need to grow quite a few more inches to be of interest to me.” And he tossed it back into thelake.
Mark stood thinking about his situation with Sophie and decided he needed to have a visit with his father. And that made him even sadder. How much more time would the old man have? Not verymuch.
He put the rod back in its hiding place, went to his horse, and headed out toward Linfield Hall, but not before giving the horse a good stretch and himself a breathlessride.
* * *
“How are you doing this morning, Father?” Mark asked, as he stood beside his father’s chair by the window in his spacious and well-appointed room. His nurse sat close byknitting.
