Ravenwood(57)
After dinner, Hayter took her hand and led her to the sitting room, heedless of her protests, and sat her at the piano. He’d found some Victoria’s music scores, one already lay out on the instrument. Elinore grit her teeth and wondered what was worse - attempting to play the piano or being forced to have conversation with Hayter.
It was horrible. Her playing was atrocious. She was somewhat adequate on a few bars, but was hideous on the rest. Wrong notes, bad rhythm, discordant melodies. She’d rather listen to a pack of shrieking hyenas than to herself stumble through piano pieces. At each wrong note, at every misplaced finger, she could see Hayter out of the corner of her eye, smiling, as though delighted somewhat in her discomfort. She felt like a recalcitrant child who needed to be monitored during practice time. At the end of the first song, she made a move to stand, but Hayter came to her side and rested a hand heavy on her shoulder.
“Dear Nora, how will you ever improve if you do not devote your time accordingly?”
“I fear such improvement is beyond my skill set,” she answered carefully.
His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “Nonsense. You shall be a wonderful player. If you devote the time.”
How to escape now? Hayter’s hand pressed down on her shoulder, anchoring her to the seat. Movement caught her gaze, and she could see one of the young maids hovering in the doorway, as though she wanted to come in and interrupt. Elinore had no doubt that would end disastrously. She moved her head slightly to the side, hoping the young woman understood it as Elinore’s wish for her not to interrupt. Elinore supposed that if Hayter was with her, he wasn’t wandering about scaring the staff. And all she had to do was play the piano.
Play she did. Horribly, awfully, obnoxiously.
Hayter declared although she was rough around the edges (a phrase at which Elinore couldn’t hold back a snort - she wasn’t rough around the edges, she was appalling), he was sure that with practice, she would be as proficient with the piano as her aunt had been. They would come to the sitting room every night after dinner and she would practice.
Elinore wanted to burst out laughing. It was absurd. But she must choose her battles carefully and if it would keep Hayter in a good mood…. She could do it. If he wanted her to play the piano, she would play the piano. She would play it most horrifically every night until one of them, if not both, were bleeding from the ears with her clunky musicianship. Hopefully that would be all he would demand from her.
That night, as he took his leave from her, he gripped her fingers tightly and leaned in closely, placing his lips against her cheek. She held body as still as possible, like a rabbit caught in the woods. His lips were slightly wet where they pressed against her skin and she flinched slightly, feeling a tremor of amusement run through him as she did. He pulled back, his eyes roving over her.
“Sleep well, my dear.”
Elinore walked as calmly and carefully as she could, feeling his eyes on her back as she left the room and headed down the long hallway. She felt that, should she run, he would only be enticed to chase her. Once around the corner, she paused, placing a hand over her chest and willing her heart to slow its maddening pace. She felt sick with the speed at which it beat, the prospect of Hayter looming over her.
Once back in her room, Elinore changed into her nightgown and placed the chair under the handle of her door securely. She again wondered when Caleb would be coming back. Hayter was not as… disturbing with Caleb present. Thinking of Hayter’s lips pressed against her cheek, she wrinkled her nose, taking out one of her handkerchiefs and wiping at her face until the skin was pink and bright. She couldn’t help but contrast it with the memory of Caleb’s lips against her knuckles. His lips had been soft and dry, and quite a lovely shade of pink, now that she thought on it. While she feared the idea of Hayter coming to her room in the dead of night, she felt very differently thinking of Caleb being the one to sneak in. Falling down on the bed, she turned her head to the window and stared out at the darkened sky, imagining. The door would creak open softly and she’d possibly be able to see his outline from the low candlelight in the hallway. She would recognize the tread of his footsteps on the floorboards. Would she pretend to be asleep? Present him with her back and keep her eyes firmly closed? Or would she sit up? Say something? What could she say that wouldn’t break the silence in a horrible and awkward way? The bed would dip under his weight as he sat on the mattress. Her heartbeat sped up as she imagined it - not with a sick and awful feeling as it did with Hayter, but with an accompanying flutter in her belly. She would inhale and catch the familiar scent of him once he was close. She could find out if his hair was as soft as she imagined it must be, as soft as it looked. A wave rolled through her stomach, pleasant and terrifying at once. She placed one of her hands low on her belly, as though she could calm it with her touch. What would happen next? Would Caleb lean over her, his body framing hers? Would he stare at her for a moment and she back at him - memorizing his features? How much of him would she be able to see in the dark? The only light that would be in the room would be from a left-over candle or the fireplace. The new moon was rising this evening and there would be no moonlight cast down. Or would it be even more seductive if she couldn’t see his face at all? If she only knew it was him by scent… and by touch. Elinore felt flushed at the thought - giddy and nervous, but also powerful. These were her thoughts and she was allowed to have them. No one could take them from her. No one could chide her for them. She could think whatever she liked.