by Dawn Brower
“Good. Speaking of children,” Birdie said, squeezing her sister’s hands and then letting go of them to work on her lace, “when are you and Arthur going to start trying for them?”
“I thought you wanted me to become a great pianist.”
“Of course I do. There’s no law saying you can’t do both, is there? You can play the piano all you like while you’re pregnant, and there’s staff to help with the baby after it’s born. You wouldn’t be able to go play anywhere for quite some time but you’d still be able to play here at the manor.” Birdie was almost as excited about the idea as her sister and Cordelia smiled.
“We shall see what happens,” she said. “I wonder if Mother has any of my old piano books.”
“You should get new ones,” Birdie said. “She’s probably got them hidden somewhere. Not to mention you wore them out back then. Don’t you remember? The pages were all bent down and ratty.”
“Bent down!” Cordelia was scandalized. She couldn’t imagine ever being so careless with her things. She was so careful with the pages of her books now that it was unthinkable. Birdie laughed and shook her head.
“You’re the one who’s silly, Delia.” The maid knocked again on the door, then came in with a tray with a teapot and some small cakes. Birdie carefully folded her lace in on itself and set it aside as Patricia put the tray on the table between the ladies, then poured each of them a cup of tea. “That looks wonderful.”
“Thank you, Patricia.” Cordelia smiled at the maid, who nodded her head and bowed back out of the room. “She’s such a good addition to the household,” she said, adding a bit of milk before picking up her cup of tea. “My lady’s maid is considering leaving us soon to take care of her mother. I wonder if Patricia would be interested in learning how to do for me instead of serving.”
“Would that be proper?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. She’s new to serving but as I said, she’s a quick learner. She’s only seventeen, they learn faster at that age. She’s also clean, and very well-mannered. She’s only become a serving maid because her mother was one.” Cordelia sipped her tea. “I can ask Mrs. Richmond about it, she’ll know for certain.”
“Yes, definitely.” Birdie picked up the plate with the cake on it. “Although she’ll probably tell you it’s improper and that you should hire someone older.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Mrs. Richmond had come with Cordelia from her parents’ house, and both girls remembered her from their childhood. Even then she’d had iron-grey hair and walked as if she had a rod in her back. Anything and everything was improper to her, and it had been funny when they were children, terrifying when they were teenagers, and now that they were adults it was back to being amusing. Birdie hadn’t been sorry to see her go with Cordelia, who supposed it was better for her to deal with the old woman. If she’d had to live with Birdie and her free-spirited ways, it would likely send her to an early grave. The doors to the sitting room swung open again, this time without warning, and Cordelia looked over to see Arthur coming through with his arms open.
“Good afternoon, ladies!” He went first to Cordelia and kissed her on the cheek, which she allowed with a smile, then did the same to Birdie. “It’s good to see you, Mrs. Ellison.”
“Oh please, Arthur,” Birdie laughed. “You do know how to make me smile.”
“That’s good,” he said, sitting on the couch that faced the wing-backed chairs. “It’s such a nice smile, we should see it all the time. So what are you ladies talking about?”
“We were talking about a hobby for me,” Cordelia said, adding a little more milk to her tea. It was stronger than usual but she didn’t want to complain. “I was thinking that perhaps I should get a piano. I used to play as a child and I think I’d like to take it up again.”
“That’s a splendid idea,” Arthur said, crossing a leg over his knee. “I should love to hear you play sometime. We can have one in here in just a few days, I’m sure. You just make a list of what you want to go with it and find a place for it and we’ll get you set up.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, dear.” Mindful that Birdie was watching her, she leaned across the table and kissed Arthur on the cheek. He offered it to her showily and out of the corner of her eye Cordelia could see Birdie watching them approvingly. Perhaps playing the piano again really would take her mind off the fact that she would be doing this for years to come. She struggled not to sigh as she sat back and took another sip of her tea.
The thought did not fill her with hope.
Chapter 3
A little over a month later, Cordelia regretted ever thinking that playing the piano wouldn’t help her forget her problems. True to his word, Arthur had a piano delivered the very next day and the workmen had installed it in a large, well-lit room that had served as a neglected library for a time. The grand piano looked perfectly at home and when she went into the room that Arthur had started calling the Conservatory, she felt at home too. It made her happy for a change, something that had become harder as of late.
Surprising both of them, Arthur’s father developed pneumonia after a week of rain and passed away before the doctors were able to do so much as begin to treat him. Cordelia had felt a flicker of hope when it happened, hoping that she would be allowed to divorce Arthur and move on with her life. Unfortunately, her hopes had been dashed as soon as she’d allowed them to rise when Arthur had told her that they’d have to remain married for a little longer to keep up appearances.
Cordelia had spent most of her time playing the piano and, much to her surprise, the ability that her sister remembered so well had come back to her. The beginner’s music books she had sent over were opened, flown through, and mastered in a matter of days and she had put in an order for some more difficult ones in the hopes she would be able to work through them a little more slowly.
She was in the Conservatory playing a simple canon when a knock on the door made her look up. Mrs. Richmond came in, looking severe as usual, with a package in her hands.
“This just arrived for you,” she said, holding out the package. “From a music store in London. I suppose Lord Whittemore paid for it to come all this way.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Richmond.” Cordelia took the package from her and turned it over in her hands. It was thin but she could tell it was music books. The thought made her smile and the older of the two women gave her a tight smile of her own.
“He must really love you,” Mrs. Richmond said. “You and Bridget are very lucky to have been married to two such loving husbands.” She sniffed. “Many women don’t get the luxury of husbands who do. It’s as if you two were touched by God.”
“Yes,” Cordelia said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “We’re both very lucky indeed.” She must have succeeded in keeping her tone even, because Mrs. Richmond gave her a neat nod and turned to go.
Once she was gone, Cordelia sat down at the piano again and opened the package. She tried to force herself to stay calm but she hadn’t been this excited in days. Being nearly alone in a massive estate with no one to talk to, even with her now-beloved piano, had started taking its toll on her. The books that appeared when she set aside the plain brown wrapper breathed life into her and she smiled far more broadly than she had at Mrs. Richmond.
The top book was far too advanced for her, she could tell that just by thumbing through it, but she also knew that if she worked at it she would be able to play it in time. Part of her felt a surge of affection for Arthur in spite of everything. That he would think her capable of something so advanced was flattering. She wished he did love her. She wanted more than anything for him to love her but she knew that was impossible, just like the melodies in the book.
The second one was more on her level, and she set the others aside and put it on the stand. The notes were a little more difficult than what she was used to and she played through the first sonata slowly, pensively, getting a feel for them as she did. Her mind worked as her fingers moved as if on
their own, reading ahead and hoping that her muscles would know what to do.
Somewhere else in the house, Cordelia could hear someone knocking on the door. Thinking that she had staff to deal with that sort of thing, she tried to put it out of her mind while she played on. The notes came more naturally to her and she finished the song, then smiled broadly at the music. It was perfect. She hoped she would be able to play it at the correct speed soon. It would be even better then.
“Cordelia, if I could interrupt a moment?” Arthur’s voice to her left made her open her eyes and when she did her heart stopped. There was another man with him, a very handsome man. She could hardly blame Arthur for having an affair with this man, not even a little. Why he would introduce him to her was beyond Cordelia’s knowledge but if this was his new game she supposed they would play it for the time being.
“Of course,” Cordelia said, standing up from her seat to join them at the door. The closer she got to the men, the more handsome the man got. He had jet black hair that was slightly longer than her husband’s and quite a bit messier. He looked as if he’d just gotten off a horse and hadn’t bothered to tidy himself up. It was his eyes, though, that were really striking. They were a shade of blue Cordelia had never encountered before, with a hint of green that rendered them almost turquoise. Yes, she could definitely see the attraction. “Good afternoon,” she said, nodding her head at him.
“Victor, this is my wife,” Arthur said, motioning to Cordelia with a smile. “Cordelia darling, this is Victor Pembroke, my attorney.”
“Oh,” Cordelia said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Pembroke.” She offered her hand to him and he raised it to his lips, brushing them against the back of her hand lightly. Instantly, Cordelia’s cheeks were on fire and she fought to control herself.
“I’m sorry to have interrupted you,” Victor said, releasing her hand but not her gaze. “We should leave you to your playing, milady.”
“That’s quite all right,” Cordelia said, a bit too quickly. Even if he did prefer the company of men, she wouldn’t have minded having him stay a little longer.
“We have business to conduct anyhow,” Arthur said. “With Father’s passing, I took the liberty of employing a new attorney.” He motioned to the door. “Come, Victor, let me show you to the study and we can get started.”
“Of course.” With a slight inclination of his head in Cordelia’s direction, Victor followed Arthur out of the conservatory and left Cordelia looking after them longingly. She wondered if all the men he was interested in looked like that.
With a sigh, she sat back down at the piano and found to her surprise that the pages of the music book she had set on the stand were open to a different song than the one she’d started. She turned the pages back, unable to believe she’d really played through the entire thing already. I suppose I should try playing it at full speed now, she thought. Perhaps that other book isn’t so far out of my reach after all. Mother would be so proud.
She flipped through the pages, humming the notes as she came across them, then put her fingers on the keys. She smiled pleasantly and began to play the same song she had before, but a little faster. It was an upbeat piece and it lifted her spirits as the others had, and before she realized it she was playing even faster. Cordelia decided to see what she could really do, so she flipped to a random page and started to play.
Cordelia was so lost in her own world that she almost didn’t hear the clapping coming from the doorway. She turned quickly, pressing a hand to her chest, and was surprised to feel her heart racing beneath it.
“Very nice, very nice,” Victor said, still clapping. “You play quite beautifully, Lady Whittemore.”
“Thank you,” Cordelia said, surprised to find she was blushing again. There was no way her husband could have conducted his sort of ‘business’ with the lawyer so quickly, leading her to believe that he really was just there to deal with the estate. “I’ve just started learning again.”
“You can’t be serious,” Victor said, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking toward her. “That’s the sort of music I’d expect to hear from a woman who had been playing for five or ten years. Are you sure you hadn’t started sooner?”
“I played when I was a child,” Cordelia said, standing up. “My sister reminded me of it and I started playing again a month or so ago. It all just seemed to come back at once, I suppose.”
“I can hardly believe it,” Victor said. “I’m a great lover of the arts. Music is one of my favorite things.”
“Do you play too?” Cordelia smiled, excited to have something in common with this handsome man who may not have been interested in her husband after all.
“Oh, not me,” he said, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “I’m more of a listener, not a performer. And I would love to listen to more of your music. If you’re willing to play for me, that is.” Now Cordelia was really blushing, and she shook her head.
“I’m nowhere near good enough for a recital just yet,” she said. “Perhaps you should come back in a few weeks. I’ll be happy to play something for you then.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Victor said, arching his eyebrow at her. The same rakish smile he’d given her earlier tugged at his lips and she felt the blush creeping down her neck as well. She was glad she wasn’t wearing anything with a neckline, otherwise she would have been pink down her breasts as well. Cursing herself for blushing so easily, she managed a coquettish smile.
“I shall have to work extra hard to get up to snuff.”
“There you are, sir,” Mrs. Richmond said, coming through the Conservatory’s doors. “Lord Whittemore wanted me to catch you before you rode off. I believe he had one more question for you.” She turned her piercing eyes on Cordelia, scanned her, then turned her attention to Victor. “I didn’t expect to find you in here with the Lady.”
“Just admiring her musical talent,” Victor said, bowing slightly to Cordelia as he turned to go. “Good afternoon, Lady Whittemore.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Pembroke.” She watched him go, fully aware of the withering look Mrs. Richmond was giving her and already preparing for the lecture on propriety she was about to get once he was gone. Cordelia wasn’t looking forward to it, but it wouldn’t be the first one she’d heard. Of course, Birdie was usually the one on the receiving end but she’d listened to them all the same.
She sat back down and started playing again, thinking about what Victor had said. As much as he’d supported her by buying her the piano and music books, Arthur had never said much about her playing itself. Patricia had told her once when she brought her tea that she enjoyed hearing her play but no one else had so much as mentioned it. Cordelia wondered if anyone else would like her playing.
The idea hadn’t left her head by the time she went to dinner, and when she sat at the opposite end of the table from Arthur it had taken on a life of its own. While the serving staff brought around the food and wine, she tried to work up the nerve to ask her husband for another favor. She knew she had every right to ask it and more, but she hadn’t been brought up to ask for too much. Birdie had always been the one who said exactly what she wanted.
“Arthur,” she said, surprising herself when she heard the words spoken aloud, “I was thinking about having a party.”
“A party? So soon after Father’s death?” He looked just as surprised as she felt and she nodded. “What brought this on?”
“I was playing from the books you had sent for me from London and Mr. Pembroke commented that my playing sounded quite a bit more polished than I thought it would be at this point, and I remembered playing for my parents’ friends when I was a girl.” She cut into her roast and took a bite, watching Arthur’s face as he did the same.
“That would probably be quite nice,” Arthur said thoughtfully. “Though we wouldn’t be able to have it for another week or two at least. It would be best for us to wait a bit longer than a month after Father
’s passing, but if it’s a few days give or take no one should bat an eye.”
Apart from Mrs. Richmond, Cordelia thought, taking a sip of her wine. She hadn’t yet received her scolding for talking to Victor alone but she was sure it was coming. Perhaps not as pointedly as it had when she was a girl, but it was coming all the same.
“What would you say to Saturday the seventeenth? We can have your sister and her husband, and some of my friends and associates, and you could favor us with a song or two.” Arthur speared a potato on the same fork as a carrot and smiled. “Is there anyone you should like to invite?”
“How about Mr. Pembroke? As it was his comment that inspired me to perform in the first place.” She hoped she sounded casual, as if she’d only just thought of it, and kept a careful eye on Arthur to see how he responded.
“That sounds like a splendid idea, darling. This house is so big, we should make it a party that’s befitting of the place. I’m sure Father would approve.” His smile was wide enough that she couldn’t see any suspicion in it and Cordelia smiled brightly.
“Thank you, Arthur, I’m getting excited already.”
“I’m looking forward to hearing you play,” he said, taking a drink of his own wine. “You keep practicing as much as you do and I’m sure you’ll put Mozart himself to shame.”
“I’m not sure I’m as good as all that,” Cordelia said almost absently, her mind already on Victor again. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning like a schoolgirl, so she picked up her wine glass and put it to her lips in the hopes of hiding it. The next two weeks were simply going to drag by.
