Page 33 of The Sprinter
Sir Richard said, “Now, you will be interested to hear that as soon as we walk out of doors of an afternoon, Edgar insists on going left. He is the leader, you see, and where he goes Jack follows. This turning left isveryscandalous, as he is fond of stopping near the gate to Carlton House and leaving a memento. What do you think of that? Does he hold political opinions? I really do not know! I like to think about it, though.”
*
George’s conversation withMiss Yardley had been in bits and pieces, as Lady Redfield was a veritable sparrow hopping between her two dinner partners. Miss Yardley had seemed deeply alarmed over his reaction to the letters that had been sent out.Hewas deeply alarmed. Though, he had attempted to put her at her ease, as there was nothing she could do to remedy the situation. He did not know what could be done, but he was concerned about what a vengeful Jacobs might do.
Now, he settled himself into what was certain to be two hours of excruciating tedium. Mothers would put forward their daughters, daughters would demur and pretend they’d never seen a pianoforte in their lives, then they’d inch up to it reluctantly, then with a secret smile they’d put forth all that their music tutor had managed to bang into their heads, and then with a flourish of an ending, appear shocked at the applause and compliments that had been wrung from their listeners. It was like a recipe everybody had agreed on.
They would all be competent. No sensible lady would allow a daughter to sit down and play for a party if she were not. If an unfortunate lady possessed a daughter with a tin ear, the invitation would not have even been accepted, as the danger of exposure would be too great. Let some fellow discover his music room was to be the scene of a racketafterthe wedding.
Competence would reign, but what seemed always absent was any feel for the music they played. They marched through the notes with grim determination, never giving a thought to what the composer had meant by it.
George allowed his mind to drift as Miss Mellydon strode confidently through a Scotch air.
What had his aunt and the duchess been thinking to send out letters condemning Jacobs? It was as if they did not understand human nature at all.
What had Jacobs surmised at this point? He would have received a few withdrawals already, but did he know why?
He probably did not know why definitively. There were so many he had insulted over the seasons. But he might well guess it was a more recent happenstance.
Well, perhaps he’d take it as a lesson—spend your life fanning flames and at some point, you would set yourself afire.
As for himself, if Jacobs approached him at the club he would feign ignorance. If Jacobs wanted an answer, he could go straight to Lady Heathway and the duchess. And heaven help him if he did.
George glanced at his aunt, wondering if he should have a word with her about the letters. He could not decide. It was so misguided! But then, what was done was done.
If he did decide to speak to her about it, it would not be this night. An attempt at the moment would be entirely fruitless. Just now, the lady was seated next to her protégé, looking as proud as a hen with a hatched chick. Lady Heathway would count on Miss Yardley to do her credit, so that she could happilytakethe credit.
So far, ithad been a very long hour and a half. One young lady after the next had risen to advertise her wares. George was always confounded by these gatherings. Somehow he’d forgotten that along with the nodding and applause he must give at the end of each performance, there were the constant glances of proud mamas. Their daughter was at the instrument and what did he think of that? It was very hard to feign a constant expression of interest and delight when he felt neither. He sometimes wondered if any of these daughters were just as bored as he was. It was amusing to think about—perhaps the only enjoyment being had was by the matrons, and even then probably only when it was their own daughter in the spotlight.
Still, he’d so far got through the interminable time creditably. At least, he hoped so. Even when Miss Crawden had made a great show of claiming she usually played the harp and so must be forgiven in advance for her clumsiness on a pianoforte, he thought he’d kept a neutral expression. He’d not believed her for a second, and he was right as she was quite good, but he did not think his skepticism showed.
As there were only two young ladies yet to play and one of them was Miss Yardley, George thought his aunt looked ready to explode into bits with anticipation.
Finally, Miss Yardley was urged to the instrument.
To her credit, she did not look shocked to be asked to play or provide any hint of reluctance. She simply rose and went to it, as if she very sensibly had come knowing she would play and now she would play and there was no particular mystery in it.
George hoped, for his aunt’s sake, that Miss Yardley could play well and distinguish herself in some manner his aunt could hold onto. He did not understand why Lady Heathway and her friends put so much stock into such things, but hedidunderstand that they did. There would be much discussion of the evening in the days to come—the highs, the lows, the surprises, and the disappointments. It would be important to his aunt to be on the winning end of those conversations.
Miss Yardley began to play at once. George was surprised she did not require a piece of sheet music, as the other misses had made a great show of thumbing through them for some tedious minutes before settling on something. At least, most of them had. As always, Miss Jenners had announced she would play a haunting and poignant Irish air. George was fairly convinced it was the only song she actually knew. Still, he could not denigrate her strategy, she was a rather jolly soul and it was always entertaining to hear her explain to the party that the air was, indeed, haunting and poignant.
As Miss Yardley’s fingers raced along the keys, George sat up a little straighter than he had been.
Not only did she not require sheet music, she’d chosen a rather difficult Beethoven sonata. Further, she played it as it was meant to be played—not quite big and grand enough for a concert hall, but very grand indeed for a private house. There was no hesitation or shyness in approaching its determined tone.
She really was quite extraordinary.
As he watched her, her head slightly bent toward the keys and a charming curl escaping her lady’s maid’s best efforts, he could not help but reflect on the first time he had really seen her. When she had walked downstairs in the cottage in Kent. He had thought her marvelous then, and he supposed he still did. He began to wonder what might grow between them if she were not so…not so what? So much trouble?
No, that was not it. Shewasso much trouble, but that would hardly stop him.
He suspected he’d gone faintly red as the real problem bubbled up in his consciousness. It seemed he had been avoiding the truth of it. She did not like him. She thought him very high-handed. Which he supposed he was. She did not appreciate all his hints and advice.
He was further embarrassed to realize that he’d got quite in the habit of expecting to be liked. He was a viscount, to be an earl eventually. There was no end of marriageable-aged ladies prepared to like him. Of course not him, particularly, but the comfort and status that he could provide. He’d known that, and yet somehow he’d at the same time allowed himself to believe that he was universally liked for himself. His valet had even convinced him that he was handsome, though all along he suspected that the fellow thought his handiwork was handsome, not the person wearing it.
So, it had seemed as if quite a few ladies liked him. Butshedid not like him. She did not swoon when he was nearby. She did not blush. She did not pretend she thought him very clever. She did not fan herself. No, what she did was ignore most of his advice, bristle at his warnings, and blatantly mock his watchman.
George glanced at his aunt as Miss Yardley came near the end of the sonata. As he had expected, Lady Heathway appeared transported to heaven.
