Suite in B-flat Major, HWV 434: IV. Menuet, by George Frideric Handel.

Returning to the manor after all this time was incredibly strange at first. Almost nothing had changed, and Amalia was reminded of her younger self, coming here every afternoon, enjoying the place, the food, but mostly, the company. It took her a few days to be comfortable within the estate's walls again. She'd been devouring books from the library, enjoying the afternoon tea, and spent a great deal of time outside with the twins, playing croquet, or using the doll's tea set for a pretend picnic.

Ailia and Maeve had become the most important persons of Langston Manor in no time. The domestics were always doing everything they could to make them happy. Amalia wasn't entirely certain if it was from their own volition, or if Aiden had given orders to the household. Thanks to their consideration, the twins were living some of the best days of their lives. They had too many distractions, too many toys, too many new people to wonder too much about what was happening, or to miss their friends. Amalia had talked to them about it all a few times, to explain this was their life now, that the one before didn't matter anymore. But one of them would sometimes ask when they would get back to camp, or when they would see this or that friend again.

Eventually, the girls would forget about it all. They were luckily young enough for that. But instead of growing as bohemians, they would become two very proper ladies, the protegees of the great Duke of Leeds, destined for amazing lives.

After spending more time around Aiden, and seeing how amazingly he treated the girls, Amalia was convinced this was the best life they could ever get. While it had seemed like her best option back then, she now regretted writing that letter to her brothers. Given Aiden's threats and demeanor, she'd been scared enough to resort to such a desperate solution. But while her life with him promised little happiness, her daughters' prosperity handsomely made up for it.

The chances that one of her brothers actually got the letter were very slim, though, which alleviated her concerns regarding the matter. It could easily get lost along the way, or it could take months, if not years, before it reached them. In which case, they might not care enough to come all this way to help her.

To Amalia's amazement, the lie of her being the widow of a Spanish Marqués was working. People in London were wondering who was this woman from the Peninsula who had snatched one of Britain's best suitors. The servants who were already working at the manor all those years ago had been sworn to silence, with the promise of losing their job, and never finding another one again if the secret ever were to escape these walls. Appleton had made his disapproval about the marriage very obvious, but Aiden had dryly dismissed his remarks.

Secretly, she was glad to have authority over the butler and never failed to give him some annoying tasks, insisting he was the one to do it and not a footman. It was never much, like having him fetch her a book on the other side of the house, then changing her mind as soon as he came back with it to request a different one. It was puerile and childish, but it made her feel good to get some revenge for the way the stuck-up old man had treated her back then.

On their way up from London, they had stopped to visit one of Aiden's sisters, Annabelle, who was married and had a young child with an earl, near Nottingham. They had stayed for a few days, and it had been a welcomed break from their trip.

Upon seeing her, Annabelle had instantly recognized Amalia, and the animosity she'd shown her had been hard to swallow. Aiden's sister hadn't even required any sort of explanation to understand who the twin's father was, as she'd seen her brother's eyes in them right away. Despite being close to her husband, Annabelle had kept the secret silent. However, one evening, as Amalia had been preparing to go to bed, Annabelle had come to speak with her.

"I don't know what kind of agreement the two of you have. But I have seen you break my brother once. It took him years to get over you, and here you are, again. Let me tell you that if you hurt him, I will most definitely make you pay for it." She had left without another word, and Amalia had spent the night dwelling on her threats.

By now, she realized Aiden had changed because of her. Her sudden departure and the conditions in which it had happened must have been painful for him. But she'd never imagined him to have been this broken. Years? He'd taken years to get over her?

On her part, it had taken years as well to heal, but with his children around her, it made sense he'd remain in her thoughts. Knowing he'd suffer for so long was a painful revelation. She should have fought more. Back then, she should have tried harder to stay with him. It was too late to change the past, but she immensely regretted not resisting it with everything she had.

But dwelling on it was pointless now. They had to find a way to make the present work.

It had now been two weeks since they'd arrived at the family estate, and it seemed she would never truly feel like she belonged. The girls had taken their marks already, but Amalia was still struggling to feel like this was her home. She was supposedly the mistress of this manor, but it couldn't feel further from that. But she still maintained her routine, slowly getting used to this new life.

In the morning, Ailia and Maeve had classes with their tutor. They were curious and attentive about certain subjects, but for others, Miss Belrose couldn't get them to focus over five minutes. Amalia had to admit she was the same. The afternoons, she had lessons with the same tutor, but regarding etiquette, handling a household, hosting dinners... She was learning everything. It was as if her entire education had to be redone, and it was frankly frustrating.

She wasn't supposed to laugh in public, had to hold her frame straight constantly, couldn't refer to the parts of the body that were hidden, couldn't make jokes... The most absurd part was having to look meek and delicate. Apparently, women of her rank were supposed to be dainty little creatures prone to fainting and illness. And they dared to call her people devils... Even her table manners were an absolute catastrophe, according to Miss Belrose, who swore she would never go to Spain, for only savages seemed to live there.

Amalia was just out of one of her lengthy and boring etiquette lessons, looking for a book she'd misplaced somewhere earlier this morning. She wanted to join the girls upstairs in their playroom, but had to find the novel before a maid misplaced it even further.

As she was approaching the music room, the sound of the piano came to her ears. She came closer to peek inside through the half-opened door and stopped at the picture. Aiden was sitting on the piano's stool, Ailia at his side, and was showing her a simple melody. He made the girl repeat it, and she almost managed, only missing the last note. Patiently, he showed her again. This time she had it right, and Aiden took his position.

"Are you ready, darling?"

Ailia nodded, and Aiden gave her the start. He played something with one hand while she played the melody he'd just taught her. The result was lovely, and Ailia wriggled on her seat, happy with herself. Aiden showed her a new one that the girl learned even faster. Amalia watched them for a while, not daring to enter, fearing she would interrupt the touching scene unfolding before her eyes.

If Aiden was estranged from her, he was, on the contrary, incredibly caring and close to their daughters. From what she'd heard, while she spent her afternoons locked in a room with Miss Belrose, he used the opportunity to spend time with them, learning to know who they were and what they liked, making up for the years he'd lost.

With unmasked emotion, she watched as her husband taught Ailia how to play, never departing from his patience, regardless of how often he had to repeat the same thing. Amalia had once overheard the maids gossip while tidying her room, and she'd learned that the entire household was surprised to see how great of a father the duke was, contrary to what they had imagined.

Amalia still wasn't sure of the man he had become, but there was no doubt in her mind that the Aiden she used to know would have been an amazing father, caring and attentive, just like he was turning out to be.

"Mommy!" Maeve called behind her, pulling her out of her thoughts

The duo on the piano stopped and turned to the door, while Amalia spun to see her daughter running at her, followed by a very embarrassed nanny, Mrs. Pots.

"Mommy, have you seen Alfred?"

Alarmed, Ailia jumped off the stool and joined them. "Binak! You lost Alfred?!" She looked properly scandalized, and Amalia tried to bite back a smile, wanting to look as grave and serious as they were.

"No, the bear isn't lost," argued Mrs. Pots. "It's only been misplaced. We have to look for him, that is all."

The girls decided it was primordial to find the plush toy at once. What if he was in a dark place? He would be scared, and they couldn't let him be scared for too long. Amalia watched the trio go away, prepared for the great Alfred hunt.

When she turned around with a smile lingering on her face, she noticed Aiden, still sitting in front of the piano, now facing the instrument. "I'm sorry we interrupted," she apologized.

"It's all right. We have been there for over an hour, and her attention had grown sporadic." He paused, and his fingers elegantly moved on the white and dark keys, not pressing them. He remained silent for a moment, playing a silent melody only he could hear. Eventually, he turned to her, perplexed. "What does Binak mean?"

"It means twin," Amalia explained, coming closer to him. "It was very nice, what you two were playing." She pushed a few keys randomly, playing a messy tune. The poor sound she produced made her grimace, and she gave him a sheepish smile. "I always loved it when you played the piano. It always seemed so complicated."

"It really isn't." He slid further, making more room on the stool, and patted it, inviting Amalia to sit. After a momentary hesitation, she complied. "So, this is the C note."

He showed her the whole scale, told her how the sharps and flats worked, and decided they would learn without the pedals for now. He then showed her a melody, harder than the ones he had given Ailia, and she got it right on the second try. In all truth, she was having a hard time focusing, with him so close, the warmth emanating from his body heating her side. As he had done before with their daughter, he told Amalia to start and played on his side with both hands. The result was splendid, and Amalia couldn't hold back her proud smile.

"Now, you have to play the left hand, then we will see if you can play both at once." He showed her, but she struggled to synchronize her movements.

"Your hands are too stiff." Mindlessly, he put his hand over hers, molding it. "You need to be more delicate. Your push on the keys has to be more flexible." He showed her by pushing one of her fingers, but Amalia barely felt it.

All she could feel was the touch of his large hand on hers. He always had such warm palms.

He stopped talking, his attention also directed at their touching skins. Neither of them dared to move or talk, their attention solely on this unexpected contact. After a moment, it wasn't enough for Amalia. Slowly, she turned her hand under his. With the faintest of touches, she gently grazed the inside of his palm with the tip of her fingers, caressing his skin with tenderness. She could feel with accuracy every callus, each line... Wanting to feel more, she slid her fingers lower to touch his wrist, enjoying how the skin was thinner there. When she was out of skin to explore, she turned his hand, palm facing up, with slow moves, as if they had all the time in the world.

Aiden held his hand still as she followed the length of his fingers. She was thrown back to that evening she'd told him his fortune, reading the lines of his palm as if she had truly been clairvoyant.

It was as if time was suspended around them. They both remained silent, fearing it would break the spell. There was no more bitterness or resentment. For the span of a fleeting moment, they were just Aiden and Amalia. Overwhelmed by a burst of kindness for this man who had been so good to her daughters, she lifted his hand and pressed a long kiss in the middle of his palm.

"Thank you, Aiden," she said, turning her face to him. He looked at her, his gaze warm and intense, and leaned in slightly, but stopped, hesitating. Understanding he wanted to kiss her, Amalia involuntarily licked her lower lip, leaving it slightly parted and glistening, eager to feel his mouth on hers. Aiden noticed, and he leaned closer, about to accept her invitation.

"We have him!" one of the girls yelled, instantly breaking the charm.

They moved away from each other, distracted by the interrupters. Maeve was proudly brandishing the stuffed bear, visibly overjoyed to have found him, after all. Shaking away the numbness that had overtaken her, Amalia got up and went to the girls. She cheered with them, giving Alfred a kiss as instructed by Ailia. All the effusions swiftly died when she announced it was time to get ready for dinner. As the girls reluctantly followed their nanny to their room, Amalia looked back at Aiden, who was focusing on the black and white keys again.

With a sigh, she left the room, leaving him alone.

Erm, yes, three updates in a day might be a lot. But I know you guys don't care.

This piece is so, so soft, it's super tender, I love it. And it's piano, so it's perfect for this chapter! Suite in B-flat Major, HWV 434: IV. Menuet, by George Frideric Handel.