Chapter 13
It had been well over a week since Mark had gone to visit Sophie. They previously met every other day or so. They would go riding, play cards, or wander the grounds of her father’s estate. But Mark could not get Emily off of his mind. He remembered her gracious beauty at his sister’s luncheon. And even his grandmother commented on her beauty, poise, and musical talent—not only on the way home in the carriage-- but also dropping comments about her at breakfast or dinner over the following week.
Mark thought for some time after breakfast about his duties to Sophie, to his family, and most importantly—to himself. He knew that his father was inexorably committed to him marrying Sophie—and as soon as possible. But he also knew his grandmother was more flexible and had expressed reservations about Sophie as the new Duchess.
He planned to visit Sophie this morning, but he was finding it difficult to summon the will to actually do so. Perhaps first, a chat with his grandmother might help settle his mind. She was not in her rooms when he went to see her. Baggs informed him his grandmother was in the conservatory where she tended to her collection of African violets. The conservatory was a large glass enclosure attached to the back of the house. It was damp and smelled of loam, mildew, and tropical vegetation with grace notes of orange blossom, jasmine, and orchid.
“Grandmamma, you old reprobate, what trouble are you getting yourself into now?”
The Duchess was seated on a bench in a brown work coat she wore when gardening. She was in the process of dividing a plant and repotting it in two pots.
“Mark, be kind to an old and fading flower. I have few joys left to me that I can actually do. I have not been able to ride a horse for decades and since your grandfather passed, I have reading, embroidery, and my lovely violets.” She held up a pot with a deep crimson bloom. “Is this not lovely? I bred this myself. I plan to enter it in the summer flower show, along with my roses, if this is still blooming as nicely as it is now.”
“I am certain you will win the blue ribbon,” Mark said.
The Duchess sighed. “But you know I always do. Not for merit, mind you, but because I am the Dowager Duchess. It is not fair. I never know how my flowers really stand up against the competition. And the other contestants must feel cheated.” She turned to Mark. “You really must do something about that. Talk to someone. Make the competition fair this year. Can you do that?”
“I shall have a word with the mayor. He will know whom to speak to.”
Mark pulled up a stool and sat next to her on the bench. “Grandmamma, I wish to speak with you again about a tender subject.”
“Yes?” she said absent-mindedly as she shoveled her own special potting soil around one of the divided plants.
“I have been lax in my attention to Sophie and I feel badly, but at the same time I am having a difficult time willing myself to go see her.”
Grandmother glanced over with a slightly disapproving look.
“And why tell me this?” she asked.
“Because you have expressed some reservations about her to me, previously, and I was wondering if you still felt the same—especially after meeting and getting to know Miss Emily.” He looked at her for her answer with some apprehension.
Grandmother continued potting for a moment without answering.
“Are you telling me you are seriously considering Miss Emily as a possible bride?” she asked with a decided edge to her voice.
“I am. She has everything I am looking for in a wife. She is intelligent, musically gifted, and stunningly beautiful—statuesque even. I know she comes from an ordinary family, but I have found no one else with the many charms she possesses.”
“Hmm. My dear, the morning glory is a stunningly beautiful flower—deep blues to purples with colors of white, pink or rose radiating out from the center of the flower. Befitting its name, it is a glory in the morning but fades and dies away in one day. These humble violets, however, bloom with less of a spectacle, but are quiet, beautifully colored, and last for many weeks on end.”
“So tell me, Grandmamma, which in your allegory is Miss Sophie and which is Miss Emily?”
“Ah, now that is the question, is it not? I believe that is for you to find out. But keep my instruction in mind before you make any marriage proposal.”
Mark sighed. “Grandmamma, you can be maddeningly irritating, but I love you dearly.”
He stood up from his stool, kissed her on the top of the head and patted her shoulder before he left.
As Mark rode over to visit Sophie, he could not get Silas’s declaration that he intended to court Emily out of his mind. The very thought of his uncle and Emily as a couple sent a shiver down his spine. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and attempted to banish the thought from his mind.
When Mark arrived at Sophie’s home, he was escorted to the garden where she was seated on a bench reading in the shade of an apricot tree.
“Good morning, Miss Sophie. I see you are enjoying this delicious weather out of doors.”
She looked up with a scowl. “Where have you been? I have been expecting to see you all week. And do not tell me you have been busy. You can always make time for what you really want to do.”
“I do apologize, but I had a trip to London and musical matters to attend to.”
“Are those musical matters connected with that Miss Dunn person?”
“Partially. But I was also there to visit my sister and take care of some other business as well.”
“Humph,” she said and turned back to her reading.
Mark went over and sat down beside her on the bench, placing his hand on her arm. “Sophie, please do not be this way. I am here now. Why not take a stroll with me and we can catch up on each other’s news.”
“Very well,” she said, somewhat mollified as she closed her book and stood.
She threaded her arm through Mark’s and they headed out across a nearby field to a stream they liked to walk along.
Sophie stopped, stooped to pick a small yellow flower, and held it to her nose as they began walking again.
Mark was finding it difficult to find something to say that might interest her, but she was the first to speak up.
“Cabot threw a shoe, so I have not been able to ride all week. Maddening, but what can one do? We do not have a smithy on staff, so Father made an appointment to have him re-shoed next week in town. What a bother.”
Mark was struggling. He wanted to be supportive, but after his delightful conversations with Emily, he found Sophie to be monumentally boring. Why had he never seen this before? As he and Sophie had grown up together, they were always playing as children, and later, as adults, they found common ground in most of the social situations of their class. But now things were different—he had met Emily.
But still, he could not bring himself to make a clean break with Sophie. Their lingering friendship was still there—and their families’ ties. And yes, he still had warm feelings for his dear friend of many years. So he tightened his grip on her arm and smiled, saying, “Then might I offer you one of my fine horses? In fact, why do we not go riding right now? Let us ride to Linfield on the back of my horse and make an afternoon of it. I shall have Cook prepare a picnic and we can go to my hidden lake and perhaps I shall even teach you how to fish.”
Sophie turned and looked at him. “Fish? Eeu! Why would I want to do that? But the ride and picnic sound nice. And maybe take a paddle in the lake. The weather has been so nice; it would be lovely to get my feet wet.” She laughed. “But you must promise not to look at my naked feet.”
Laughing, Mark said, “You need not worry. I think I might be able to restrain myself at the sight of a lady’s naked feet. After all we used to skinny-dip naked when we were eight.”
Sophie broke free of Mark’s arm and ran back toward the house, her loose hair flowing and her face flush. And Mark had to admit, yes, she was a very handsome woman.
Mark left the London house in his carriage and stopped by to see Alice b
efore heading over for the very important meeting with Emily’s father. It was to be the day that Silas and Giles were to announce the formation of the new trio. Mark insisted he wanted to be present to confer with Emily and discuss how to proceed with setting up her tour—if all went well.
Alice was seated at the desk in her study composing when Mark was shown in to her.
“Good morning, darling Alice. I hope I am not interrupting some divine inspiration.”
Alice looked up with a broad grin. “Not at all. I got your note this morning so I was expecting you.”
She stood up and he went over to embrace her. And taking her hand, he twirled her in a circle before taking hold of her and doing a few waltz steps.
She laughed. “What was that all about?”
“I am to see Miss Emily shortly and it has brightened my day.”
“And so it should. I cannot tell you how delightful I find her. We spent a whole day together recently. We played piano duets and she even helped me calm the terrible two.”
“She is quite special, is she not?”
“Indeed. And what are you going to do about it?” Alice asked with a gimlet eye.
“For now I am going to help organize her tour, and nothing else. It would be totally inappropriate for me to pursue any romantic feelings I might have for her. I must maintain a strictly professional relationship—for the time being.”
“I see. I expect you are correct on that matter. And how are you planning to set up this tour?”
“After our meeting with Emily’s family, I hope to contact some of my musical friends on the continent and ask them to help me organize the tour. I may need to go abroad for a short time to make arrangements, but I would like to have the tour in place for the musical season next year.”
“And what about Sophie? Last time I saw Father, he was grumbling about the fact that you were not married yet.”
“Yes, he is on my back constantly about that. It is almost the only subject he wants to talk about. And I know it must be addressed—but not yet.”
“If you like, why not bring Emily here after your meeting? You could stay for lunch and then the two of you could discuss the tour without interruption. I will need to get back to my composing after lunch.”
“Hmm. That is a lovely offer, but I have no idea how this meeting is going to go. If I may leave that open as a possibility, I should be happy to ask her and see what transpires.”
“That would be fine. I am going to be here and working all day, now that Nanny is back in charge of the boys.”
“Excellent. Then wish us luck,” he said, retrieving his walking stick.
“Oh, much more than good luck—I bestow a rhapsody of singing stars upon your endeavor. And please give Emily my fondest regards.
Mark smiled and headed for the front door where his carriage was waiting.
Mark directed the carriage to Knightsbridge and the Dunn residence, tranquil along this quiet backwater street. Alighting from the carriage, he saw Silas descending from his carriage ahead of him.
“Silas, big day, is it not?” Mark greeted.
“Indeed it is. Monumental for the entire family.” Silas turned to the young man coming out of the carriage behind him. “Mark, this is the new trio pianist, Linton Hawthorn. Linton, His Grace, the Duke of Edgerton.
“Your Grace,” Linton said bowing slightly. Linton was dressed more fashionably today. His cravat was neatly tied and his shirt newly laundered by his caring mother.
“Mr. Hawthorn, I look forward to hearing you perform. You are following a very talented young lady in the name of Emily Dunn.”
“I am well aware of that. I am humbled and honored to be stepping into her very large shoes.”
Mark had to laugh at the odd image. “Shall we go inside?”
As they entered the sitting room, they found the piano prepared and the chairs and music stands for the two sisters set up ready for a performance.
Mark searched the room for Emily, but saw only Ruth and Teresa, their mother and father, and Giles holding his baton and looking quite nervous. He also noticed that the young man had not followed them into the sitting room.
Mark and Silas greeted the parents, the sisters, and Giles.
Owen Dunn stood and asked, “Mr. Carter, I should like the mystery of this meeting solved. Do you mind telling me what this is all about?”
Silas stepped forward, and nodding toward Mr. Dunn, said, “I believe we have some joyous news for you and your family.”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“Please sit, make yourself comfortable, and I shall explain in good time.”
It was then that Emily appeared with the music and accompanied by Linton. They went over to the piano and sat down together on the bench.
“What is this?” Mr. Dunn asked.
“We have a little surprise performance for you,” Giles said as the two sisters sat in their chairs and prepared to play.
“I do not understand,” Mr. Dunn said, looking around the room as if expecting an explanation hidden in the bookshelves.
“Be patient. Sit back and enjoy the performance,” Silas said.
Giles stood in front of the musicians, and raising his baton, began the performance with Linton on the piano and Emily turning the music pages.
When the performance had ended, there was polite applause from all but Mr. Dunn, who stood and asked. “What is the meaning of this outrage? Why is this young man playing the piano and not my Emily?”
Silas came over, and taking Mr. Dunn gently by the arm, led him back to his chair.
“Please sit, Mr. Dunn, and I will explain everything.”
Silas then began the detailed explanation of the tour for the trio, which was now completely scheduled. He said that Mr. Hawthorn was to replace Emily to free her up for other prospects and then turned the rest over to Mark.
“Mr. Dunn,” Mark began, “Your daughter, Emily, has an extraordinary talent. And while she has been a strong backbone for the trio, her talent is being wasted. It is my contention that she should be performing solo, and I have taken on the task of arranging a European tour for her to perform as a solo artist, and to perform as a soloist with major orchestras.”
Mr. Dunn turned to Giles. “And you agreed to this highjack of the trio?”
Giles addressed their father, “Mr. Dunn, please, this is truly for the best—not only for Emily but for the trio, too. It has invigorated the group’s playing and Mr. Skeffington, with this tour, has widened their audience and allowed them to achieve new horizons by being able to travel over much of southern England.”
Emily came over, knelt in front of him and took his hand. “Please Papa—this is truly for the best. If I continued with the trio any longer, I believe my performance would begin to deteriorate. I need to take this opportunity and move forward. His Grace is most generous in his offer to help me with my career, and I promise you, this will allow the trio to continue, and both Ruth and Teresa can prosper by having a way to further their careers as well. Can you not see that?”
Her father stood. “But this is about family. You know that. You have always known that. The trio is family. Rupture that and what do you have? Deterioration. As certain as I am standing here the trio will fall apart and fail.”
Mark wanted to help, but he knew he must not intervene just yet. This was a family matter and Emily would certainly want to solve this within the family by herself.
Mr. Dunn turned to his other daughters and asked, “And how do the two of you feel about this?”
Neither seemed to want to be put on the spot, but Teresa answered, “Papa, Emily is our family, too—do we not want what is best for her as well? We all know, quite honestly, that she is a far superior musician to either of us and, quite honestly, we are only holding her back.”
“And you, Ruth, what do you think?” Mr. Dunn asked.
Ruth sighed. She seemed reluctant to speak. “I say let us at least give this a try. Mr. Hawthorn is very talented and I
believe it might help our image if we have a gentleman in the trio.”
“Hmm. I can see you are all aligned against me.” He turned to his wife. “Mother, what do you think about all of this?”
Mother seemed nervous about speaking up. She fiddled with her apron but finally said, “I guess it seems fine. After all, the girls will be working, and if Emily has an opportunity to be successful, I think we must let her have her chance.”
Absolutely no one had taken Mr. Dunn’s position. He was facing a united front. He turned to Giles. “When does this tour start and how long will it last?”
A Dashing Duke for Emily Page 12
