Eloquence

Eloquence Chp.3

                                                                   Chapter Three

                                                               Eloise wants to love.

                                                 How can you marry when you don't love.

                                          How can you love when society refuses to allow it.

I was pacing back and forth pausing every so often to press my ear against the wood; it was no use as the door was of the highest quality. Practically sound proof. What had Father been so furious about? My tutor had just been like all the rest, although he seemed more handsome some how. Something about him was different. He was obviously only around nineteen or twenty, but that wasn't it.

"Remington," I whispered his name pausing against the door. I felt those tiny little shocks fly through my body, again. I smiled at the odd sensation.

I hit the floor with a thud feeling a sharp pain radiate from my shoulder down, I rolled onto my back looking up at Mr Remington and my Father. Neither were impressed, now it looked like I had been listening. Hoe improper. Father gathered his composure and strode from the room with a huff storming into his office and slamming the door behind him. I guess I wouldn't be reading first afterall.

"Get up Miss," Mr Remington walked away leaving me to help myself up from the floor. Some gentleman he turned out to be.

"For the purpose of our learning, I-I would like to, well I want to-" Mr Reminton's head swung toward me, an eyebrow raised. He was obviously thinking what the rest had thought at first. A women actually allowed to say want to a man.

"Hmm?"

"I would like to know your name," I didn't look at him as I said this. What if he wouldn't respond?

I felt his gaze boring into my head and heart, he didn't show any sign of answering my question and quickly flipped the lid up on our grand piano up setting out his yellowing note sheets on the fragile stand. He pushed his hand through his hair this looked like a nervous habit he had and it made me smile.

"I thought that we could start you off with some Franz Hunten as you can already play the basic notes and read music," Mr Remington pulled the bench backward gesturing me to take a seat. My legs quickly moved forward sitting me down, "Now play," Mr Remington moved off to the side.

I looked at the notes before me and remembered what books which I had read in my Father's library about playing piano. Treat the piano as a fragile newborn. I slowly tinkered out the first notes not pressing to hard. Just playing with feather light touches begining to think that this was okay afte-

"No!" I froze, hands still on the keys, looking over at Mr Remington to see him shaking his head.

"Lean foward and try again," I leant foward, which was most uncomfortable in the corset women were forced to wear, and attempted another go only to have Mr Remington place his hands on top of mine and phsically stop me playing.

"What? what am I doing wrong?" I'd hit every note jus right.

"It's perfect. It shouldn't be perfect. Your touch is too light, hit those low notes like they've offended you tap those high notes as if they're next. Loosen up and lean into the paino, let go." Let go. Let go of what? 

"You try and let go whilst being strapped into whale bone ribcage crushers!" I felt completely insulted and rather angry.

His hands pulled the stool back whilst I was still sat on it, I went to get up only to have him froce me down onto the bench. He knelt in front of me clasping his hand around my ankle gently removing my shoe. So slow that it felt tortureous like he was worried that I would run at any given moment. However I did not. His hand tossed the shoe to the side of the room and slowly removed the other. I sat stunned at his boldness unsure of what to do.

"Let go."

He grasped the hem of my many skirts and slowly drew them up my legs, his hand grazing the pale skin there as he went, tugging them up seeming as if he was never going to stop. Endlessly dragging them over my modesty. He stopped somewhere around mid thigh causing me to blush and look away. I was practically naked. Remington was however was looking at my face, blushing pink. He tucked the skirts under me so that they didn't just fall back down.

"Feel free."

He thankfully removed himself from down there and walked around to stand behind me his hands rested on my shoulders but slipped down quickly unclipping three top clasps on the front of my dress then sliding back up and over to rest on my shoulders, he let his fingers dance a hot firey trail over my shoulder blades and flutter down my spine loosening the dress off of my shouders and skin. He slowly plucked the laces from the second layer and expertly undid them all until it felt like the dresses I wore would pool at my feet in a mess of fabric and embaressment. He pulled all the little clips from my hair tossing them to the floor.

"Now lean foward," his hands gently pushed me out of my perfect posture, "breathe and relax," he massaged my shoulders, "and play," he placed my hands on the begining notes and moved away from me completely.

I touched the first note feeling how being closer made it easier to tinker with, feeling my hair on my shoulders. Tickling my neck and face. Closed eyes and trusting my instincts to do the music justice. Quivering with excitment pushing the boundries of belief. I'm sure my fingers were a blur that flew arcross the notes.

 I felt a light sweat sweeping on my brow and a manic laugh bubbling in my chest. I was rocking my body back and forth testing the pedals on the floor. This felt so good like I was building up to some great release of power. Tossing my head into the air as my fingers crashed to the last note. Panting hard but grinning madly.

I felt hands back on my shoulder, "That's how you play music," Mr Remington massaged my loose shoulders whilst I turned my head to regard his face. He was so close that I could feel his breathe tickling my face and mine do the same to his. He smelt like the books in Fathers library, a smell that I loved dearly. Leaning closer, which couldn't be helped, my face tilted toward his angular jaw. Lips they were all that I could see.

"We are having lunch soon, Mr Remington has been requested to stay," Mabelle called through the open door, moving off quickly knocking on father's study.

Mr Remington jumped back and shot over to the door shutting it, I threw an arm over my bodice trying to meld it to my body, my mind felt numb. Mr Remington rushed back over brushing my arm off of my bodice which slipped down as my arm fell away. Mr Remington just pulled it up and did up the clasps spinning me around and pulling the corset tightly closed attempting not to fumble along the way. He was breathing heavy and searching for my shoes and clips.

Everything was back in place except one last clip which he was on his hands and knees attempting to find, spotting it just beside him I leant down picking it up touching his shoulder to alert him that I had it. He flinched and pulled away at my touch shocking me completely. He stood put the clip in my hair and rushed from the room following Mabelle's softly humming voice. I flinched slightly and lwent over to my mothers portrait with tears in my eyes.

"Would I have given him my first kiss?" My mothers eyes seemed to be avoiding me in shame, I could hear what she had to say. Yes, Eloise. Yes you would.

Okay so Mr Remington is staying for lunch and still has literature to teach her...Hmm steamy for the victorians!! Vote, Fan and Comment. I hope you enjoyed Eloise's world. Oh and DON'T be a Gost Reader as they are super upsetting :( (Ghost readers are people who read your story vote and then leave without commenting. It doesn't have to be a huge comment.) Love all my readers. xxx