The Art of turning heart

14 |

I looked at Edward with a determined expression. "Edward, would you be willing to teach me to play? I have always wanted to learn."

He scratched the back of his neck, a modest grin gracing his lips. "I am not certain I am the best instructor, but if you insist, I shall do my best."

With excitement, I moved to sit beside him at the piano. His hands, warm and steady, gently rested on mine as he guided me through the initial notes. "Now, Isabella," he murmured softly in my ear, his breath sending a shiver down my spine, "place your fingers here, and let the keys respond to your touch."

My heart raced, each delicate touch of his fingers sending a flutter through me. "Like this?" I asked, attempting to follow his guidance.

"Precisely," he whispered, his voice soothing. "Feel the music, let it flow through you."

As he continued to guide me, the proximity of our bodies and his gentle touch made my heart pound even faster. His closeness was intoxicating, and every shared glance or brush of his fingers left me breathless.

Suddenly, a knock on the door jolted us apart. Edward looked at me with an apologetic smile as the valet entered. "My lord," the valet addressed Edward, "Miss Whitmore is needed. Her sister has fallen ill at school and requires her immediate attention."

A sigh escaped my lips as I rose from the piano bench. "I should have known the sweets would be a mistake," I murmured, a hint of frustration in my voice.

I turned to Edward, my expression apologetic. "I am terribly sorry, but I must go. I need to fetch my sister from school."

Edward's gaze remained unwavering as he took my hand, his grip firm yet gentle. "May I accompany you?" he asked, his voice earnest.

I shook my head softly, offering a reassuring smile. "Thank you, but it is quite alright. I can manage on my own."

He held my hand a moment longer, his eyes locked with mine. "Very well. Be safe, Isabella."

With a final, lingering glance, I made my way out of the room, my heart still racing from our earlier closeness. The echoes of his touch lingered as I departed, the warmth of his hand still felt on mine.

As I entered the imposing establishment known as St. James Academy, a place I had never quite cherished, I made my way swiftly through its corridors. The institution, with its austere architecture and rigid discipline, had never been a source of fond memories for me. Today, however, my focus was solely on retrieving my sister, Seraphina.

Upon reaching the classroom, I was greeted by Seraphina's beaming face as she ran towards me, her arms outstretched. She embraced me warmly, her small frame shaking with the excitement of being reunited.

A young man approached us, his countenance somewhat self-assured and charming. He had an air of youthful confidence, with dark, wavy hair that fell in a casual manner and eyes that sparkled with mischief. His tailored attire and the slight tilt of his hat gave him a dashing presence.

"Miss Whitmore," he said, his tone smooth, "it is always a pleasure to see you. I trust that you have been keeping well?"

I managed a polite smile, though his flirtatious demeanor made me uneasy. "Thank you, Mr. Langley. I've been quite well, though today has been rather hurried."

Mr. Langley leaned in slightly, his gaze lingering on me. "Indeed, I hope the day's events have not been too taxing. Perhaps, if you have a moment, we might discuss how you've been faring over a cup of tea?"

I blushed, not sure how to respond. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Langley, but I must take my leave now. My sister is unwell, and I need to see to her."

He tipped his hat with a charming smile. "Of course, Miss Whitmore. Until we meet again, then."As I walked briskly, holding Seraphina's hand, I could feel her small fingers struggling to keep pace. "Seraphina," I said, trying to keep my tone gentle despite my irritation, "you must be more careful with sweets. It seems they've affected you quite a bit."