Chapter 27

Twenty-Seven

T he carriage slowed to a stop in front of the Duke of Aylton's residence. There were not as many lights burning as there had been at the ball. Grandfather and Aunt Healand exited the coach first, followed by Lord Endelton and his mother. Phil clutched the sheet music as she descended behind Alex who for the first time in years had left the house without her cane. Although grandfather wielded one if she were to have need.

Liveried footmen directed their group to the music room. Still in the doorway, Phil's lungs froze. From the neat rows of chairs, the small gathering sat more than sixty people. They had never performed to more than a dozen, the Godderidges being their only audience.

The Duke of Aylton stood stiffly next to his wife, greeting guests.

"Miss Lightwood and Miss Philippa, I am so delighted you could join us. Since you are a late addition to our little event, I have placed your performance last save one. Lady Charlotte will perform the final number."

"Thank you, your Grace," Alex answered for both of them.

The duchess appraised Phil from head to toe. "Not an incomparable or even a great beauty. I fail to understand what possessed my husband to dance with you."

Not wanting to cross the Duchess, Phil answered meekly. "It is a mystery to me as well."

The answer earned her a careless nod, and the duchess waved them past. For his part, the duke spoke not a word beyond the obligatory greetings.

Lord Endelton found them seats together and arranged to sit next to Phil with Alex at her side. As it turned out, the program was rather short with only five ladies performing other than the sisters.

While the first three performances were executed well, none of them outshone the others or displayed extraordinary talent. The panic enveloping Phil upon entering the music room dissipated. While they wouldn't outshine the others, neither would they disappoint.

After the fourth performance, which was a violinist accompanied by her brother, the panic returned. The pair played exceptionally well. Mediocrity after the siblings would draw undue attention.

Alex gripped Phil's hand. "Imagine Mother can hear us."

The simple words were all Phil needed to gather her wits and walk with Alex to the dais upon which the piano rested. Alex navigated the two steps without assistance. Phil so intently watched her sister, she didn't notice a ripple in the carpet and stumbled a half step but didn't fall. She took an extra moment to help Alex arrange the music before taking her position on the other side, where she would sing.

The two songs they'd chosen were familiar, taught to them by their mother years ago. Alex had composed the piano solo between them in such a way to show off her own skills without putting aside the singing. As soon as the first notes played, a calm settled over Phil and she could almost imagine her mother sitting next to her grandfather and aunt. Grandfather's smile grew with each passing stanza. Phil didn't dare look for Michael's reaction until she completed the first song and Alex played the piano bridge. As she had hoped, his face glowed with adoration. He had not been disappointed. Another face caught her eye, the duchess did not seem pleased. Perhaps the versions on the country tunes were not as acceptable as if they had been played by Handel or another revered composer.

Alex played the notes leading into the second song, a love ballad. Phil looked first at Michael, then feeling heat rise in her cheeks, then to her aunt, who resembled her mother enough to cement the illusion in her mind. The first note swelled within her and came out thankfully in tune. Their piece concluded to general applause. Phil curtsied from her position, and Alex from next to the pianoforte as she had practiced at their home. Phil gathered the music and followed Alex to the platform.

Lady Charlotte stood at the bottom step, not waiting for them to take their seats as others had before. She reached out her hand and touched Alex's elbow as if to congratulate her. To Phil's horror, Lady Charlotte grabbed her sister's elbow and propelled her off the step. Alex caught herself with her good leg and would have remained upright, if Peggy hadn't snagged on the rumple in the carpet. As her sister stumbled, Phil dropped the music sheets and jumped off the platform. Instead of helping Alex to her feet, Lady Charlotte used the toe of her slipper to raise Alex's skirt past her knees exposing Peggy to all.

There was a collective gasp.

Phil dropped to her knees as Alex rolled over and they both fixed Alex's skirts.

"Only my pride is hurt," whispered Alex.

Phil stood and helped her sister to rise.

Lady Charlotte smoothed a triumphant smile from her face. "My apologies."

Since her hands were occupied helping Alex, Phil couldn't slap the lady's face.

Alex gained her footing but still held to her sister's arm. She faced the murmuring crowd. "I understand the on dit among the ton is I'm not in possession of all my limbs. I assure you, I own all of them, and I have three more at home. The finely turned ankle you glimpsed is the creation of Mr. Potts who has created many prosthetics for those of our brave soldiers and their commanders who have need of them."

With her head held high, she released her grip on Phil and walked to her seat. A maid handed the music sheets to Phil, and she followed her sister in stunned silence.

Just as it would have been impolite to applaud Miss Lightwood's pronouncement, jeering Lady Charlotte's inept performance was simply not done. Michael wondered if there were others who wished they could break the rules of polite society. When the final note of the pianoforte mercifully fell silent, the duchess stood and directed everyone to the refreshments.

Michael turned to Miss Lightwood who took the seat next to him as she had reached their row before Philippa. "Are you injured this time?"

"Not as I was last time I visited this house. I am quite able to walk." She smiled at all of their small group. "Truly, I am well. I am glad grandfather insisted Peggy be replaced."

The look of concern on the earl's face faded. Philippa's worried forehead did not.

"Shall we see what the duchess prepared for refreshments?"

"Not a bump. A candle under the carpet. I caught the footman removing it."

"It was deliberate then? Will you sack him?"

"He is not one of ours. He works for the Abbotts. The duchess had him on loan for the evening."

"Then it was planned?"

"It appears so. Mrs. Abbott is the duchess's cousin of some sort as is Lady Charlotte, and my wife has been seeing to Lady Charlotte and Miss Abbott's advancement among the ton. I shudder to think this could be the duchess's plan." Richard ran his hand through his hair.

"Why would she do that?"

"Why does she do anything?" Richard lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair then dropped his hand before he could ruin his valet's work. "I don't know. I understand my wife less and less each day."

Michael found little comfort in his cousin's admission, he didn't understand people either.

Richard rose from his seat. "Thank you. I will have to look into the matter. Will you apologize to the Lightwoods on my behalf? I cannot risk angering the duchess further. As her next plot..."

Micheal waited a moment before answering. "I understand."

"We best return before we are missed."

The ride back to Lady Healand's was full of conversation, none of it concerning Miss Lightwood's fall. Michael wished they had taken a separate carriage so he might talk with Philippa. But if they had taken one, he would be with his mother and Philippa with the earl.

As the coachman pulled to a stop, Michael realized he would not have the moment alone he'd hoped for with Philippa. He could hardly leave his mother in the coach for even five minutes. He had yet to compliment her on her singing or her sister on her playing.

When they arrived, Michael took advantage of being nearest the door and assisted Lady Healand out and bid her farewell.

He extended his hand to Miss Lightwood. "I never got to tell you I enjoyed your playing."

"Thank you."

"I hope I may hear from you again."

Miss Lightwood smiled and removed her hand from his, joining her aunt and grandfather near the door.

Everyone watched as he handed Philippa out of the couch. "Your singing was delightful."

Her eyes lowered and her long lashes brushed her cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"More than anything." One of the horses snorted.

"May I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Of course."

Reluctantly, he relinquished her hand.