Chapter 42 - GEORGINA—THE PERFORMANCE OF A LIFETIME

Chapter 42

GEORGINA—THE PERFORMANCE OF A LIFETIME

Afootman brought in lit candles, extra ones for the sconces behind the pianoforte, directed by the Earl of Livingston. I guess he didn’t want anyone to miss the next performance.

He announced that a special song would be performed. Then signaled for me to be ready.

Oh. Mark and I would return to the pianoforte in front of this gossiping crowd.

“It will be fine.” Katherine rubbed my arm. “Lively night, but you and Lord Mark will ease everyone’s apprehension.”

“Where is he? You don’t think he went with his awful father.”

A dutiful son might.

A fellow that felt obligated to his family and feared for the family name would definitely wish to help.

What we’d witnessed was horrible.

The Marquess of Prahmn and his repugnant life were exposed. Everyone saw, even the newspapermen in the crowd. Gossip would be everywhere.

Poor Mark. “I don’t want Lord Mark tarnished too.”

“Men fare better in scandal,” Katherine said.

Scarlett gave her a sour-lemon look that said Could you not be bitter this once? “Just give a performance as beautiful as how you two have practiced. That will save you and him. And no one will believe the two of you would be together . . . not with a father like that.”

Mark wasn’t his father. I hoped he’d never be him.

The end of the next selection would soon come.

That was my notice to come to the pianoforte again.

My pulse raced in time with the music.

But my heart searched for Mark. He needed comfort.

I was ready to exhibit, ready for this ball to be done. It wasn’t midnight, but this Vasilisa, Cinderella, needed to run away. Then she could leave with her gold slippers and not think of this night of scandals again.

* * *

A young lady sang and played the pianoforte, while my sisters and I held our positions in the rear.

“Miss Lydia Wilcox has gone to bed.” The personal maid the duke assigned to our girl bowed and dipped away. She disappeared in a crowd that was sated with champagne, choice meats, and all kinds of baked puddings and kartoshkas. Those chocolate-dusted truffles enfolded with cream tasted so good. No wonder the duke loved them.

I wiped my gloves free of the powdery cocoa. “At least Lydia went to bed thinking me brave, a hero for surviving the bad man.”

“Yes,” Scarlett said, “Georgie the brave, not Georgie the runner.”

“Where are you going, Georgina?” Katherine’s voice made me still.

Unconsciously, I’d half turned toward the closest exit.

Each sister grabbed one of my arms. “We can all do this together,” our eldest said. “We can be the singing Wilcoxes.”

Kissing both their hands, I refused. “You two keep your heads up. Lord Mark will come.”

The Earl of Livingston came to me. His countenance looked grim. “I think our friend had a little bit of an accident, so he may not show up to assist you. That’s what he told me to say.”

“So he told you to tell me something?”

“Yes, he did. You’ll have to do your performance without him. I heard you sing. Do it a cappella. It will be even better. I think that’s what Sebastian wants, for you to do everything without him.”

That didn’t sound like Mark, but the embarrassment he must be feeling was probably acute. If my brother-in-law had taught me anything, it was that you raise your head no matter how big the scandal. Tavis would go into rooms owing everyone, and still bet or borrow more.

My father had faced the stares with grace. I could too. I was his daughter. “I’m ready, Lord Livingston, but I can play the piece.”

“Excellent.” His gaze went about the room. “Mr. Carew is missing. Hopefully, he’ll step back in, hear you sing, and see, like our scientific process said, you’re his perfect match.”

Following the earl, I again bobbed and turned and sidestepped dancers. At the head of the room, the grand pianoforte glistened in the bright light. Dido and Elizabeth looked over my shoulder.

“No one will miss seeing me, Lord Livingston.”

“Did I have them add too many candles?”

“Yes, my lord, but it’s better to see the music.”

Now his head whipped. “No sheet music. Sebastian must have it, or he plays from memory. No matter, you can still just sing.”

The fellow was extremely nervous. Then I looked out the window and saw the reason.

Mark, supported by the duke and Mr. Carew, was walking back and forth. In and out of the maze.

Was he injured or drunk?

Were they trying to sober him up?

Livingston gazed at me. “Found him. But now you need to stall. With all the gossip about his father, Sebastian will be stained too.”

Seeing Mark in trouble, knowing that I could help by offering an attention-gathering performance, gave me courage. “I need no sheet music.”

He clapped his hands. “Now, we will have a rendition of Pleyel’s hymn by Miss Georgina Wilcox. She has been a student of Lord Mark Sebastian.”

The crowd hushed. I was sure they recognized me from before, and now the earl had tied my name again with Mark’s. I had to do well for him and my family.

Steadying myself to the hush of the crowd, I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

Hundreds of eyes stared.

My heart pounded.

My eyes wanted to turn and see if Mark was better.

My pulse raced.

Then my mother’s voice sounded in my head. Time for lessons, dear. Show Papa what you know. Make him proud.

“Make him proud.” I sang these words like a melody, like the song that wouldn’t leave my head.

Sitting at the pianoforte, I began to play the notes I envisioned, that had imprinted before my eyes.

I added runs. My fingers sailed across the keys.

Shutting my lids, I added bits of me, of Mama and Papa, to this melody. Then I realized my thumbs touched the same ivory that Mark had.

In my soul, I played the tune that he struggled with. I found a new way to end it. I built a crescendo, and then banged out the last triumphant note.

Anya House seemed quiet. I thought I’d disgraced myself until I heard the clapping. Thunderous applause filled the drawing room.

The earl came back, took my hand, and helped me stand.

The joyous reception to my performance continued.

Mark stood with the duke and Mr. Carew in the doorway.

They all smiled.

The duke came to me, clapping. “This is Miss Georgina Wilcox. She has been working with Lord Mark on a special piece of music to be debuted. It has been a secret. Their work has been shrouded in mystery and even intrigue. Yet this sonata is an example of unity. Please congratulate them again.”

Mark didn’t come to share the applause, though it continued for more than five minutes. He’d stepped away.

Then the duke had the musicians play and he waltzed me about the room. “All eyes are on you, my dear, as they should be.”

“Your Grace is generous, but the man whose attention I want is not here.”

“A man in love never takes his eyes from his heart for very long. He’ll lose what he most desires. And there is Mr. Carew.”

Over the duke’s shoulder, I saw the handsome man now dancing with Katherine. “Ah, someone has finally danced with her.”

The duke spun me and probably saw for himself the two enjoying the waltz.

“Why don’t you go dance with Katherine, Your Grace? Fix the disagreement. You both will not win the bet tonight. Mr. Carew is nice. If I marry, it needs to be with someone more than nice. It should be to the man I love.”

“Well, for me to dance with Lady Hampton, it might have to mean more than dancing. Miss Wilcox, I do intend to win the bet, but that was why I put in the caveat about our mutual friend as a draw. You found Lord Mark Sebastian in the garden. I suggest you go find him there once more before he leaves.”

“Is he that hurt?”

“The feeling will return in his fingers.”

“What?”

“Calm. Quiet. It was a little accident. But you played his sonata. Now that it’s been performed in public, he can’t enter it in the Harlbert’s Prize.”

I couldn’t breathe. I’d stolen Mark’s opportunity.

“Run, Georgina Wilcox. Go get the happiness you want.”

That’s what I did. As fast as I could, I charged into the garden, hoping to catch the perfect match to my soul.