The Cousin - ONC 2023

Chapter six

Insomnia was indeed running rife through Lilywood manor as Emily tossed and turned on her luxurious feather mattress. It was like sleeping in the clouds normally, but the events of her morning encounter with Oscar had stirred her emotions to the point of restlessness.

After being shut away in her room for most of the day, avoiding Oscar and her aunt and cousin, she was feeling caged. It was just after midnight, so a walk outside was out of the question, but maybe stretching her legs about the house would do?

Emily put her robe on over her nightgown and padded out into the hallway, barefoot. The moon lit the night enough that she decided not to take a candle with her. That way, if there were any servants roaming about, she could easily avoid them.

A lunar glow pierced the many windows along the wide hall that led to the middle of the house. As she made her way down the stairs to the ground floor, she came across the music room and the pianoforte in the corner caught her eye.

It had been years since she had played. Her aunt and uncle owned an old piano that was on its last legs, but she was not allowed to play it. It had been for Cecily alone and unfortunately, even with all her lessons, she was still terrible. Too much time spent flirting with her tutor and not enough practising.

Emily herself had not been terribly fond of the instrument in her youth, but once the choice had been taken from her, she missed it terribly.

All at once, she was overcome with the urge to play. After a quick look outside the door gratified her nerves, she closed it and walked over to the piano that sat bathed in moonlight by a set of large french doors. It was just enough to read the music upon the sheets that lay forgotten on the music shelf—Moonlight Sonata by Ludwig Van Beethoven. How appropriate.

Thankfully, she had not forgotten how to read music after spending many late nights going over pieces Cecily had been privileged enough to play. Emily would move her fingers, pretending she was performing for her parents, during Christmastide or at the many house parties she would have attended with her mother, trying to impress all the eligible gentlemen.

But never once did she dare sit down to play Cecily’s pianoforte, for that would have meant a sound lashing. But now, here she was, not in her own home, not under the watchful gaze of her abusive uncle, and free to play if she chose to.

With the sleeping quarters far from where she sat, she gingerly pressed her fingers to the keys. After a short warm-up, she sat in silence and waited. Once she deemed it safe, she began playing once more. It was a new piece to her, one she had not heard, but knew of.

The music washed over her, settling in her bones, its melancholy melody written just for her, for that exact moment in time. Cecily only played jolly, romantic pieces, and there was no other soul to converse with over music.

After one or two wrong notes, it was as though she had never stepped away from this wonderful instrument. She was lost to the haunting aria when candle light flickered out the corner of her eye.

She stopped immediately as Oscar stood in the doorway, watching her thoughtfully.

"Forgive me for intruding, but I was absolutely astounded at the sound of the pianoforte wafting through the house at one o'clock in the morning," Oscar said.

"Forgive me, my lord. I should not have been playing, and am wholeheartedly ashamed that I woke you at such an unreasonable hour," Emily replied in embarrassment.

Oscar moved into the room and surrounded Emily with his candle's glow.

"Do not fret, Miss Hollyford. I was still awake. I had a minor panic when I could not find my father's pocket watch. Fortunately, I had only forgotten it in the library earlier."

Emily smiled slightly at his dishevelled appearance and the mention of Oscar's late father.

"My condolences for your loss. I was very sad to hear of your father's passing. He was a lovely man who always made me feel welcome, even when I was not."

"Thank you," he replied with a sad smile. "I miss him very much."

"Yes, I know how you feel. I wish I could say that you will miss him less with time, but rather, it is that you get more used to them being gone. Unfortunately, it never gets easier."

Emily’s eyes welled up at the thought of her own wonderful parents, who she missed dearly.

Oscar moved closer and wiped at a single tear that Emily had not realised had escaped. Her breath caught at his fleeting touch, and she looked up into his sad smile.

"I was very sorry to hear about your parents as well. Such a terrible tragedy on a normally safe stretch of road."

They both stared off on opposite sides of the room, both lost in thoughts of what was gone, and how different their lives could have been.

Emily stood abruptly, surprising Oscar, making him stumble back a step.

"I should get back to my room," she whispered, her eyes moving from the wall to his.

He was still so close. She could smell sandalwood mixed with his earthy scent. It was quite intoxicating.

She felt overwhelmed by too many sensations, his heated gaze and masculine smell. The way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. She closed her eyes, trying to get her emotions under control.

Silence spread out before them. Neither made a sound nor moved an inch. She really needed to move. She did just say she should go to bed. But she was stuck, rooted to the spot.

A jolt of lightning coursed through her body as he touched her again. This time, his thumb gently caressed her bottom lip. She let her mouth fall open and sucked in a large breath of air. She had forgotten to breathe and now she felt faint as she tried to fill her lungs once more.

Oscar groaned quietly as his thumb moved up over her top lip and then...

Nothing.

Emily opened her eyes, and Oscar was gone. Confused and shaking, she sat back down on the piano stool before her legs had the chance to give out beneath her.

Once the realisation of what had happened dawned on her, her emotions turned to guilt, shame and, most of all—fear. What if Aunty Prue were to find out? What if she sent Emily back to York, back to her uncle?

She should not have been so silly. And what of Oscar? Had she disgusted him with her wanton behaviour? What had she been thinking, of course she had? He could not get away from her fast enough.

Weighed down by embarrassment and shame, Emily slowly and quietly made her way back to her bedchamber.

As she lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling, her head ached—no, pounded. Perhaps it would be best for her to stay in her room for the day. Yes, and possibly the one after. It would not be long until the other guests arrived, and she should take a few days to rest in her room to prepare for the onslaught of London's elite.

But only after a quick visit to the modest, of course. Then her headache could bother her as much as it liked.