Page 22 of The Perfect Rose

His mouth dropped open for a few seconds before he stifled a laugh. “Can you, can we . . .” he cleared his throat, “would you be so good as to visit with me after the musicale has ended, Lady Rose?”

Her mouth lifted up on one side. He never seemed so unsure of himself as he seemed to then. And that was taking into account their terribly awkward conversation by the river only this morning. Had it not even been a day? How things had changed so quickly. “Of course. I would very much enjoy your company.” She smiled at him.

He ran a finger between his cravat and his neck and cleared his throat. Rose was glad she couldn’t see any signs of swelling. He said nothing, however, but nodded and returned his gaze to the performance as it began.

Mr. Quentin Redford and Miss Eliza Trenton, Miriam’s quiet friend, performed as if they had rehearsed many times. Although the piece wasn’t particularly complicated, it was beautiful and made even more so by the acute tenderness in Mr. Redford’s expression as he watched Miss Trenton sing. His heart was written in his eyes. It seemed that this house party was proving quite successful at least for the two of them. They must have spent quite a bit of time in each other’s company this past week. What a happy story to be seen played before her.

Chapter Sixteen

Frederick loved music. It reminded him of his mother; her connection to music had inspired Frederick to sing from the time he could speak. Sadly, ever since the carriage accident that took his parents’ lives, Frederick’s singing had become a thing of the past. Frederick was gratified that their parents’ deaths had not affected Miriam’s ability to play; in fact, the opposite was true. Miriam had turned to music to cope with her grief as a thirteen-year-old girl. She had been blessed with the same talent and passion for music as their mother.

Lady Rose had a gift with playing music, but she was wasting it. The longer he had listened to her play the violin, the more deeply he pitied her. Through her performance, Lady Rose was quite adept at cutting off any emotion one listening or watching would be able to discern. Her performance on the violin had left Frederick speechless. It wasn’t what one would expect, however. The piece she played was beautiful, flawless even, just as the lady who now sat beside him. But he’d been moved near to tears as she’d played. Not that the notes prompted sadness; it was the perfection of the piece that was the true misery of the performance. Everything about it, as perfect as it was, had no passion, no life to give it emotion. It was almost like a mathematical equation, planned and executed in such a manner as to brook no arguments. He couldn’t help but see that her life was much the same.

Even knowing what he did of Lady Rose’s situation, Frederick chose to talk with her about it. She may not particularly like his coming correction, but if presented the right way, she would have no choice but to hear him out.

Miss Trenton and Mr. Redford’s performance was the finale of the musicale. And it was a good thing too. They were the perfect example of feeling through music. He wouldn’t be surprised to hear if the two had come to an agreement already. Their hearts had been borne in the music, pouring out so much love and excitement as to move even someone as much a statue as Lady Rose. They all stood and applauded the number and the evening. It had been a success; Miriam was obviously pleased with how everything had gone off.

Miriam announced refreshments in the drawing room, and the party trickled down the hall amid whispered conversations. Frederick and Rose trailed Miriam, who clutched Romeo and Juliet behind her back, as if people didn’t already recognize that she took the book almost everywhere with her. Frederick shook his head at his sister’s passion.

His heart began to pound uncomfortably in his chest. He knew that his critique of Lady Rose’s performance wasn’t likely to be received well, but he couldn’t stand by and watch talent as she possessed go without feeling. And if she learned to play with feeling, perhaps she could find some joy in it one day. He offered Lady Rose his arm and he intended to keep hold of it until she heard him out. “Would you care for some punch?”

Her eyes darted about, though seeking what, he did not know. “Yes, please.”

As he led her to the refreshment table, he stumbled, quite on purpose and knocked into the grandfather clock next to him. “Ah! I’ve sprained my ankle.” He took in a short breath and stumbled, putting less weight on his foot farthest from Lady Rose. He pretended to bite back invisible pain.

“Heavens, Mr. Hastings, let us get you to a chair.” Lady Rose began tugging him further into the room; but he wanted none of that. If he was going to make her uncomfortable with his speech, he didn’t wish to embarrass her in public.

“Thank you, Lady Rose. But I wonder, the balcony is just here around the corner. Can we not sit out there where I am not to concern anyone else. I’m certain I will be right in a moment or two.” He eyed Ron, the footman with whom Frederick shared a secret handshake, and tugged his ear. His footman walked with his uneven gait to Frederick’s side and cleared his throat. Frederick could almost see Ron wanting to break character, but he remained quite serious, as always.

“Oh thank goodness you have come.” Lady Rose looked at Ron as if he had arrived on a brilliant stallion. “Mr. Hastings has had a small accident. Would you send for the housekeeper to have her meet us on the balcony? I’m sure she will know what he requires.”

“And have Mrs. Hamilton bring a shawl for Lady Rose.” Frederick added.

Lady Rose threw him a confused look. Oh yes, he was ‘hurt’ and had forgotten to infuse his voice with the effect. Miriam would have seen through his acting skills in a heartbeat, but she wasn’t close enough to the encounter to interfere.

He exaggerated his limp the next few steps he took out to the balcony. A quaint little bench sat just to the side of the open door. The weather was not quite cold, but it wasn’t considered to be warm at this time of night, with the sun having set and stars sparkling overhead. He needed Lady Rose to be comfortable enough to stay a while with him. He stretched out his leg and winced as Lady Rose helped him sit.

“Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Hastings?”

“You have promised me your company, have you not? I wish for nothing but for you to stay with me, distract me from the pain.” He found himself knowing that his words were true. Not in the way he had intended for her to understand them of course, but he was in pain . . . for her.

Lady Rose shifted from one foot to the other as if she was going to leave him. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you here in pain. I’m quite concerned for you. But it is not proper; no one else is out here.” She bit her lip and pulled her eyebrows together, her concern for him and their situation causing him immense satisfaction.

He smiled broadly. He quite enjoyed the idea of this woman worrying over him. But he couldn’t have her leave. “Ron will be back in a moment. You could remain in the doorway until he comes.”

She rolled her shoulders back, making her look regal in the light spilling from the candles in the drawing room. What would he find behind her perfect facade when he pulled back her layers? He wanted to know. It might help him identify which gentleman here could bring her the most enjoyment out of life. Her mother wanted her to marry, and she would. He was confident in that. But it would bring him peace to know that he had added to her happiness. And it would be so much easier to act a part if he was confident that intentions were good.

“Where did you learn to play, Lady Rose?”

“Play what?” she asked him, half distracted.

He waited a few long seconds until she looked at him. “Better question, how many instruments do you play?”

She blushed. “Just three.”

“And I bet you sing as well. Did you count your voice among the three instruments?”

“No. I did not. And I do not count myself a singer either. So you may well accept that I play three instruments. The pianoforte, the harp, and the violin. How many instruments do you play, Mr. Hastings?” she challenged him.