Page 40 of A Marquess' Season of Secrets
“Do not concern yourself with that,” Juliana urged. “Go along, and I’ll make my way to the drawing room.”
Kitty gave her fervent thanks and hurried up the stairs to the west-wing rooms while Juliana went down the hall to the main drawing room. She did indeed recall everything Lady Stratford had wanted and also how the woman had insulted her at every turn. Juliana longed to ask the woman what she had done to earn such hatred, but a servant never questioned her betters.
Oddly, I do not feel that she is my better. Would that be akin to heresy?
Fortunately, all the furniture was light enough to lift or push, but the pianoforte would have to stay in place.
“Well,” she said aloud, planting her hands on her hips. “Where do I start with you lot?”
The room could do with a little more colour, but the same could be said for most of the house. The only room in the house that truly appealed to Juliana was dedicated to the duke’s parents. The room boasted artefacts from the east, wooden sculptures from Africa, and some things Juliana did not know, but she enjoyed looking at them.
Mrs Black had given her the duty of keeping the room clean after Juliana had expressed some knowledge about the eclectic collection. The housekeeper had assumed it would overwhelm her, but the complete opposite had happened.
Juliana started with the chairs, moving them to the walls so she could deal with the tables. The drawing room was large enough to comfortably sit fifty or more people, but it was nothing compared to the splendour of the ballroom. That room could hold three hundred or more people and featured a continuous painting on the ceiling that appeared to move whenever she walked about the place. It indeed was magnificent.
Oh, to dance in a room like that!
Kitty had mentioned that the duke would always have an artist come in and draw on the floor before the guests came in. Of course, the artwork would be destroyed once the dancing began, but it was likely a lovely start to the evening.
Sometimes, when everyone was asleep, Juliana would use all the misshapen candles she would make from all the wax drippings and draw something on the papers salvaged from Lady Stratford’s wastebasket.
She would never know what she was drawing until it was complete, and still, she would be confused for the most part. The images never seemed to be anything she was currently familiar with, which made her wonder if her memory was coming back, but through artform.
The tables were the next to be pushed, but one of them caught the edge of a carpet and nearly tripped her.
“Oh, you stubborn thing!” she cried, righting herself.
Perhaps she needed a short break as she had been moving furniture around for quite some time. Leaning against the wall, Juliana’s eyes drifted to the pianoforte. Her attention had strayed to it time and time again as though it were beckoning her, but the task at hand had kept the temptation at bay.
It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look. There must be something about it that appeals to me.
Crossing the room, Juliana opened the lid, revealing the keys beneath it. A vague memory of fingers dancing across the instrument swam up to her mind, and before Juliana could fully realise her actions, she was seated before the pianoforte with her own fingers on the keys.
Briefly looking about her, she turned back to the instrument and took a deep breath before playing whatever came to mind. It was an uplifting piece of music that made her smile and think of sunny weather, walks in the park, and ices that dripped down one’s fingers if they were not eaten fast enough.
Juliana’s fingers danced along the keys in fluid motion, telling her a story she couldn’t quite recall. When the melody came to an end, she found herself strangely exhilarated.
“Goodness,” she breathed, putting a hand on her chest.
How in heaven’s name did I do that? Surely a commoner does not know how to play the pianoforte?
Turning away from the instrument, she sucked in a sharp breath when she found the duke watching her.
“Your Grace!” she squeaked. “I can explain precisely what I was doing.”
Juliana frowned at her words. She couldn’t explain any of this, not in a way that would get her out of trouble. The duke had caught her red-handed at the pianoforte— there was no use denying it. Knowing she had no excuses to give, Juliana hung her head in shame.
“Where did you learn to play like that?” the duke asked.
Juliana lifted her head, releasing her lower lip from the death grip of her teeth. She faintly tasted something metallic, but she wasn’t in the least bit concerned. She had bigger things to worry about.
“I do not know, Your Grace,” she said truthfully.
“Can you play something else?”
“I do not know, Your Grace.”
The duke smiled. “You do quite a lot for a woman who does not know much. Simply put your hands on the instrument and let your fingers lead you.”
