Duke of Camellias

TWENTY-SIX

Two days passed, with Emmanuel spending his days entertaining Blair and Laurence, rather than painting. Yesterday he had showed them his library and the two men had poured over his antique books, rare translations of The Arabian Nights, Dante's Inferno, and Goethe's Faust.

Laurence had talked with Blair about all sorts of literature, and Blair was surprised how well-versed he was, and they had gotten along better. Despite his bluntness and occasional foolishness, he seemed to mean good will.

Today the three had ventured back to the piano room. Although it had contained bad memories for Blair back when Christopher was there and he could not fit in, Laurence enjoyed it a tremendous amount, and he circled the black grand piano in amazement.

"It's lovely! My mum payed the piano, too, but ours was nowhere near as glorious as this! Tell me, do you play?"

"Of course," Emmanuel replied. "Why would I have a piano otherwise? To decorate a room?" Blair didn't say he thought that was quite likely among the wealthy.

"I've never heard you play," Blair said. He thought of the times he mentioned Christopher playing, and yet it never occurred to him the Duke could play himself.

"I've played a few times, at night, or when you were busy in your room," Emmanuel replied simply. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"You wouldn't be disturbing me, I love music. Eleanora always sang."

"Can you play for us, your lordship?" Laurence asked, a grin spreading on his face. Emmanuel raised an eyebrow. He wasn't one for performing in front of people; he only ever played to calm his nerves or because of his insomnia.

"I have never heard you play, I'm curious," Blair admitted. He looked down at his hands, and Emmanuel couldn't help but think his sly request endearing.

"I've only heard my mother play. Besides that I've only heard it a few times at banquets or pubs," Laurence added. It was much less endearing.

"How did you learn how to play?" Blair asked.

"We had to join the choir or play an instrument at the Academy," he replied nonchalantly. Blair realized it might have held bad memories for him, as it was related to the academy. However, Emmanuel's expression didn't change, and he stood there, back straight, arms crossed.

"What can you play?" Laurence asked.

"Mozart, Debussy, Beethoven, Satie, and some Tchaikovsky," he listed. Blair marveled.

"Please, if you don't mind, play some for us?"

Together, the two turned to Emmanuel and fixated their gaze on him expectantly. Emmanuel turned away from the two.

"I'll play it for you," Emmanuel remarked. He didn't want it to get to Laurence's head.

He settled on the stool and then raised the fall. He poised himself, elbows at an angle, and Blair found his heart thudding at the excitement.

Slowly, the Duke unfurled his hands and brought down a finger, then another. The tune was familiar, but Blair could not bring a name to it. Instead, he listened to it and watched as Emmanuel moved to the music, graceful fingers gliding across the keys like they had only brushed it, and his eyes, half-closed as he looked down at the keys. He nodded his head along, his lips opening and closing the tiniest bit.

The song was very sad, and Blair couldn't help but think of Eleanora, dancing in her dress, cradling a cat, smiling, and then lastly, there was the face of the Duke that Christmas. Lit by the candlelight, and looking at him gently, before he brought down his face.