Tavener’s expression did not lighten, suggesting he thought Lady Maxwell’s quick acceptance of her friend’s grandson rather precipitous. But with the three older ladies looking on expectantly, he briefly introduced Allegra to Lord Wofford and his companion, Sir Harry Miles.
Presentations performed, the older women resumed their conversation. “Miss Antinori, would you stroll with me to obtain a glass of wine before the next set?” Wofford asked.
“I’ll keep you company and make sure Wofford minds his manners,” Sir Harry said with a wolfish grin Allegra couldn’t quite like.
Before she could decline, Tavener said, “You’ve been duly presented, gentlemen. Since the musicians will resume shortly, I suggest you go find another lady to entertain.”
“Now, Tavener, that’s hardly cordial!” Wofford protested. “You’ve monopolized Miss Antinori long enough. Why don’t you go off and let us keep her company until the musicians begin.”
Tavener balled one hand into a fist and casually rubbed the knuckles against his other palm. “’Tis never wise to outstay one’s welcome, is it?” he asked in the same deceptively soft but menacing voice he’d used in the park.
Eyes going wide, the two men exchanged uneasy glances. Wofford cleared his throat. “When you put it like that, I suppose we’ll just be on our way, eh, Sir Harry? Miss Antinori, a pleasure. Tavener.”
Both men bowed and hastily walked away.
Watching these proceedings with a mingling of curiosity and indignation, Allegra murmured to Tavener, “Protecting me from more men I should not know?”
“I doubt Lady Maxwell knows what the grandson of her old friend has been doing since he grew up. Wofford’s an infamous whoremon—womanizer, whereas Sir Harry, having depleted his late wife’s dowry supporting a series of mistresses, is looking to marry into wealth again. They may be good ton, but they are not good men.”
His obvious concern for her well-being stifled any further protest Allegra might have made about his high-handedness in dispatching the two men. “I suppose I must thank you for discouraging them, then.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “You are as protective of me as Lynton.”
He grinned. “My feelings for you are most unguardian-like, I assure you! But if scaring off the raff and scaff unworthy of your company earns me your gratitude, I am content…though I do wish Wofford had persisted. I’ve long wanted to plant my fist in the middle of that smug face.”
Allegra was about to ask him why when suddenly Lynton appeared before her, wine in hand and a young gentleman in tow. Casting an aggravated glance at Mrs. Randall, he stopped short in front of Tavener.
“Lynton.” Tavener bowed, an ironic gleam in his eyes.
“How fortunate you are just leaving,” Rob replied, nodding a dismissal to Tavener as he handed Allegra a wineglass. “I have here a gentleman most desirous of making Miss Antinori’s acquaintance.”
“Since I am leaving, I suppose I should go,” Tavener murmured. “Until later, Miss Antinori, Mrs. Randall.”
Her cheeks warming with embarrassment and annoyance at Rob’s rudeness, Allegra watched Tavener walk away. Suppressing with some difficulty the sharp rebuke she wanted to deliver to Rob, she willed a smile to her lips and turned to the gentleman Rob was pushing toward her.
As she curtseyed and murmured the usual polite responses to Sir Ralph Beckman’s stammered greeting, her forced civility turned to compassion. Sir Ralph appeared younger than the youngest of the Marriage Mart maidens on display here tonight and so embarrassed and inarticulate, she wondered that his mama let him out in polite company.
Blushing furiously, he opened and closed his mouth several times without producing more than a strangled bit of sound. Taking pity on him, Allegra initiated a one-sided conversation about the evening’s entertainment and the other guests present to which the tongue-tied young man needed to contribute only an occasional nod.
Allegra had about run through her stock of conventional trivialities, but the young man, his cheeks still a furious red as he bobbed his head at her like a marionette on a string, showed no signs of leaving. Perhaps uttering goodbye was beyond him, she thought, suppressing a smile as, to her relief, she saw Lady Harrington proceeding to the center of the room.
“It appears the next set is beginning,” Allegra said, inclining her head toward their hostess. “I must let you return to your seat. A pleasure to meet you, Sir Ralph.”
While she curtseyed, Sir Ralph simply stood, his cheeks growing ruddier still. After clearing his throat, he seized her hand and kissed it before hurrying away.
“Really, Rob, you might have contributed something to the conversation,” she murmured to her guardian as the young man scurried off. “Poor Sir Ralph! I don’t think he liked me very much.”
“Quite the contrary!” Rob replied. “He sought me out to tell me how much he admired you and begged me for an introduction. I will allow, not being much in the petticoat line, he…doesn’t have much conversation. And though he appears rather young—”
“Young!” Allegra interrupted with a giggle. “He scarce looks old enough to be out of Eton.”
“He comes from an ancient, well-respected family,” Rob continued, frowning at her levity, “with an income of over twenty thousand pounds a year.”
Allegra was about to reply that it was a shame his guineas couldn’t talk, else he was going to have a hard time charming a wife, when their hostess clapped her hands.
“My lords and ladies, I regret to inform you that Alexandra Spolettini, our featured soprano this evening, has taken ill and will be unable to sing for us,” Lady Harrington announced. “I was near despair at having to disappoint you when my dear friend Lady Lynton—” she nodded to Sapphira, who crossed the room to join her “—reminded me that we have among our guests someone almost as talented as La Spolettini. While the orchestra sets up in the gallery, would you not give us the pleasure of hearing you play, Miss Antinori?”
CHAPTER TEN
AS ALLEGRA STOOD SPEECHLESS, Sapphira linked arms with Lady Harrington. “Oh, pray do indulge us, Allegra,” she said, a glittering, self-satisfied smile on her face. Turning to the guests, she added, “With such a virtuoso as her tutor, I’m sure Miss Antinori is a most accomplished performer.”
“Shall we encourage her, my friends?” Lady Harrington asked. She nodded to Sapphira and the two began to clap.
Immediately some of the other guests joined in. From his position reclining against the wall, frankly inspecting her, Lord Wofford called out, “Please, Miss Antinori, indulge us.”
“Hear, hear!” Sir Harry added.
So this was the reason Sapphira had been so anxious for her to attend, Allegra thought, alarm and anger flaring as she glanced over at her companions. Mrs. Randall was looking distressed, Rob thunderous as he cast a dagger glance at Sapphira, who ignored him and continued to smile sweetly, apparently delighted to have her relation show off her skill.
Allegra knew if Rob tried to refuse on her behalf, Sapphira would only remonstrate, stressing again her competence—and all but shouting a reminder of Allegra’s lineage, which doubtless had been her goal from the start, whether Allegra ended up performing or not.
While the clapping quieted, Allegra placed a hand on Rob’s arm. “It will cause less comment if I simply play and have done with it,” she murmured.
He must have realized the truth of that, for despite looking as if he wished he might drag his stepmother from the room by her blonde locks, he gave a stiff nod. “Make it brief,” he said tersely.
Her eyes on Sapphira’s triumphant face, Allegra felt her anger intensify as she walked over. “I’m happy to oblige you, Aunt Sapphira. Being in deep mourning, I know you allow yourself few diversions.” Relishing a few titters from the guests near enough to overhear her remark, Allegra proceeded to the pianoforte.
If Sapphira wished to brand her as a musician’s daughter, Allegra thought mutinously as she seated herself, she would make her father proud.
Fingers hovering over the keyboard, she chose a challenging Bach concerto her father had made her practice over and over until his perfectionist’s ear was satisfied.
Blazing fury drove her through the first few measures. But almost immediately, the beauty of the countermelodies intermingled with bittersweet memories of Papa standing beside the piano, tapping out the rhythm with his bow, transported her beyond the moment.
Sapphira’s spitefulness faded away; the noise of the crowd dimmed. Caught up in the music that was almost a communion with the father she’d loved, Allegra played on, grief and joy and longing coursing from her heart through her fingers onto the keyboard that transformed her turbulent emotions into a glorious rhapsody of sound.
Hands stilled on the final chord, Allegra stared sightlessly over the instrument, scarcely hearing the enthusiastic applause of the crowd. Until a familiar voice, the tone honey-sweet, broke through her abstraction.
“Didn’t I tell you she was accomplished?” Sapphira said. “Why, I’m sure she plays as well as any of the performers we’ve heard this evening.”
Before Allegra could snap back a reply, Lord Tavener appeared beside the pianoforte. “Just couldn’t bring yourself to play badly, could you?” he murmured in her ear.
Then he raised his voice to carry over the crowd as he addressed their hostess. “Lady Harringtton, I don’t believe the orchestra is yet ready. Release Miss Antinori and I shall do my part to entertain. If you will permit?”
Lady Harringtton gave him a curious glance, but nodded. “If you wish to play as well, Lord Tavener, do proceed.”
Allegra felt a zing of warmth as Tavener clasped her elbow, urged her up and gave her a little push toward Rob, who strode over to seize her arm and lead her away.
Mrs. Randall hurried over to meet them. “Should we leave at once?” she asked in an anxious whisper. “Lynton, I’m so sorry! I never expected Allegra to be made a spectacle of like this.”
“We’ll leave as soon as practicable,” Rob answered sotto voce. “I don’t wish to attract notice by making too precipitous an exit.” Turning to Allegra, he added with exasperation, “Couldn’t you have chosen something simpler?”
Both hurt and angry that Rob dared reproach her when ’twas Sapphira who had set it all in motion, she flashed back, “I could never have embarrassed Papa by playing poorly.”
He looked as if he meant to say more, but at that moment Lord Tavener began and the music drove all other thoughts from her head.
She listened, at first incredulous and then enthralled. If the concerto she’d played had been difficult, the piece Tavener selected was beyond the skill of all but a virtuoso. As well it might be, since it had been composed by one.
Grief and joy, gratitude and astonishment mingled in her breast as Tavener proceeded to give a masterful performance of the “Ode in B-flat minor,” the pianoforte piece her father had written as a love song to her mother.
Tavener couldn’t know that—could he? she wondered, pressing her lips together to keep back tears as the haunting melody wrapped around her. She could not wrest her gaze from Tavener, eyes closed in concentration as he bent over the keyboard, coaxing passion, tenderness and rapture from its keys.
For several moments after the last note faded, the guests sat in hushed silence. Then, amid a thunderous eruption of applause, Tavener stood and bowed.
Straightening, he held his hands in a palms-out request for silence. “Enough, my lords and ladies,” he said when the din quieted. “We amateurs do but our poor best. Lady Harrington, if your guests would like to take some refreshment before the dancing begins, they should do so now. I believe the orchestra is almost ready.”
An immediate hubbub filled the room as the guests rose from their seats, some milling about the ballroom while the orchestra in the gallery began tuning their instruments, some strolling toward the refreshment room. A small group tarried around Tavener at the pianoforte, shaking his hand or offering congratulations.
From over their heads, Tavener’s gaze found Allegra’s. A dazzling smile lit his face and he gave her a nod.
She nodded back, glad he required no more response of her. She wasn’t sure she could have managed to coax a reply from her emotion-clogged throat.
“What a marvelous performance!” Mrs. Randall said.
“’Twas well-done of Tavener,” Rob admitted. “Let us leave now, while attention is still focused on him.”
Though she wished she might go express her thanks and gratitude immediately to the man whose brilliant performance had so neatly deflected the focus of the crowd, Allegra knew Rob was right. Regretfully responding to the pressure of his hand on her arm, she rose and was turning to follow him out of the room when several gentlemen blocked their path.
“Sir Thomas, Jessamyn, I didn’t think to see you before we left,” Rob said, his grim expression turning to a smile of surprise and pleasure as he greeted his friends.
“You mustn’t leave yet! My compliments, Mrs. Randall,” Colonel Jessamyn said before turning to Allegra. “Miss Antinori, you play like an angel!”
“Her skill is exceeded only by her beauty,” Sir Thomas Reede said, bowing over her hand. “Lynton, would you allow me to escort your charming ward to the refreshment room?”
“Nay, mustn’t let him monopolize the Diamond of the evening,” Colonel Jessamyn objected. “Would have stopped by earlier, but Lady Lynton kept detaining us. Couldn’t desert a poor grieving widow, you know. We’ll both escort you, if you will permit us, Miss Antinori?”
Allegra glanced up at Rob, who shrugged and gave a nod of approval. Apparently they weren’t leaving immediately after all. And though Allegra would have preferred to seek out Tavener, still surrounded by a group of well-wishers who included, she noted with an illogical flare of annoyance, a number of lovely ladies, she could not be rude to these gentlemen.
“A glass of wine would be most refreshing,” she said.
“Capital,” the colonel pronounced, taking her arm. “We shall bring her back safely in a moment.”
“They will be clearing the floor of chairs so the dancing can begin, so Mrs. Randall and I might as well accompany you,” Rob said. “That is, if you would like another glass of wine, ma’am?”
Mrs. Randall nodded her assent and took Rob’s arm. Sparing one last wistful glance in Tavener’s direction, Allegra let herself be led off with the group.
As they walked to the refreshment room, a number of the ladies and nearly all the gentlemen to whom she’d been introduced these last few weeks stopped her to offer compliments on her skill.
Allegra had to suppress a little smile. It appeared that Sapphira’s scheme to discredit her had gone awry.
She hoped, after they finished their wine and the gentlemen went off, she might find a few minutes to speak with Rob alone and try to gauge how he felt about seeing her suddenly become the focus of admiring eyes. Would he be proud of her performance now? Despite his fine words about wanting her to meet a number of superior gentlemen, would he be as anxious to restrict the time she spent with the men of whom he approved as he was to bar her from seeing Tavener?
Soon after arriving in the refreshment room, they heard over the hubbub of voices the orchestra begin to play, signaling that the dancing had begun. A bubble of excitement rose in Allegra’s belly. How she would love to twirl about the ballroom floor on Rob’s arm! And if his friends should invite her to dance, she might discover if having another man so close to her moved him to jealousy.
To her consternation, though, Rob firmly declined both men’s suggestions that they return to the ballroom. Since Mrs. Randall was fatigued, he informed them, he meant to escort the ladies home as soon as they finished their wine. After exchanging goodbyes and promises to call, Rob’s friends bowed and departed.
Hard put to maintain her cheerful expression, Allegra swallowed her disappointment along with the last of her wine before taking Rob’s arm and allowing him to lead her out of the refreshment room.
Duri
ng their transit down the stairs to claim their wraps, they were stopped by three more gentlemen proclaiming themselves eager to meet her. Allegra’s mouth grew stiff from smiling, her neck sore from inclining her head—and her temper ruffled at the knowledge that the evening was being cut short before she’d had a chance to achieve one of her main purposes for coming here.
Rob’s stated preference for meek, pretty-behaved maidens had already closed to her the avenue of flirtation. Lost now was the rare opportunity to savor the touch of his hand on hers when she danced with him. Where isolated from everyone by a canopy of sound, they might converse in relative privacy and she could attempt, without Mrs. Randall overhearing every word, to rekindle the admiration and camaraderie they’d shared in their youth.
A few moments later they reached the waiting carriage. “’Twas a close-run thing,” Rob said as they settled themselves, “but I think the evening passed off well enough despite your performance, Allegra.”
“Indeed, I believe her performance brought her the attention and admiration of more gentlemen than she would have had otherwise,” Mrs. Randall observed.
So Rob still didn’t admire her skill, Allegra thought regretfully. But another gentleman did and had shown his support by providing her the most timely of services. “You should thank Lord Tavener for playing immediately after—and far more brilliantly—than I did,” Allegra reminded them.
“That was most chivalrous,” Mrs. Randall said. “Perhaps it would have been safe for us to have remained for the dancing after all.”
Rob shook his head. “’Tis best to beat a strategic retreat and leave your admirers wanting more.”
“I’m sure you must be right,” Mrs. Randall said. “Still, what a marvelous evening! That glorious music and all those charming gentlemen eager to meet you, Allegra.”
“It was lovely,” Allegra acknowledged. “I just wish,” she added wistfully, looking up at Rob, “I’d been able to converse more with the charming gentleman who brought us.”
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