“I still have my music, even though I don’t perform. And I love teaching your sisters. It’s so rewarding to see them awakening to the power of music, to see it change them. Music makes us feel. It makes us weep and laugh. I wouldn’t want to live without it. It carries us away from the humdrum and places us amongst the stars, with light shining all around and shimmering in our ears. Music will always be there for me, even when I’m old and my hair has turned gray.”

The light shining in her eyes, the brightness of her smile, her graceful hands caressing the piano keys had a similar effect on West. She was dazzling. He had to look away. He should leave now. And yet he wanted to linger. To stay close to this vividly alive woman.

“That’s all well and good,” he said gruffly, “but don’t you want to have a family of your own?”

“I always wished that I was born into a large family like yours. I wanted siblings rushing around. A mother and father. My chance for a large family of my own is long past. I’m perfectly content to be an aunt to my friends’ children. And I hope to perform the same role for your sisters after they marry. I do dote on children. And I can’t imagine a mother abandoning her child. Mine must not have loved me at all.” She played a soft melody with her right hand. “What was your mother like?”

“She was like . . .” West closed his eyes. “Like summer roses, so beautiful it almost makes your eyes hurt to look at them. She was sweet-tempered and tried so hard to please my flint-hearted father, but she never could. And that turned her sweet nature to sadness. She was ill for many years before she died. In a way, I’m glad she went before Bertram, my younger brother. At least she was spared the pain of his loss.”

Her fingers never stopped teasing a soothing melody from the keys. “Your sisters speak of Bertram often. They miss him every day.”

“As do I. I always expected that he would be the one to continue the line since I’d set myself on a collision course with an early death.”

They sat side by side. The lamplight made the ivory of the keys warm and soft and she was warm and soft beside him.

“It should have been me that died, not him. He had everything to live for. He was the apple of our father’s eye. He would have made a wonderful duke.” Now why had he said that? Must be the aftereffects of the gin.

“Don’t say that.”