Revelations

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Revelations Page 41

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur


  'Don't be worried on my account, Mr Fielding,' Fitzwilliam replied magnanimously, 'I nearly fell on my knees before her when I first saw my beloved dressed like a queen. I so understand your reaction. And there is Miss Darcy still to come.'

  With some real concern Mr Fielding now looked up, discerning Georgiana in the background with Elizabeth's father. He actually managed to control his reaction better this time and observed, 'She looks like an angel. So beautiful, two such beautiful ladies to look at all day. You are a fortunate man, Mr Darcy.'

  'I know, I congratulate myself at least once a day. But they never look at me exactly as they look at you, Mr Fielding, you have their admiration as much as I do.'

  That was all politeness and Mr Fielding knew it. Georgiana adored Fitzwilliam as much as Elizabeth did, though in a different way.

  'Only when I'm playing, Mr Darcy, only when I'm playing. And, in some mysterious way, that is not even me but something riding me, though I did gain the skills that allow the inspiration to find its way out all by myself, with hard work and dedication.'

  Great, now Fitzwilliam would think Mr Fielding admired her, since he reacted so strongly to her appearance and only moderately to Georgiana.

  Never mind, Fitzwilliam would find out tonight that Mr Fielding had but one real mistress, music. If he didn't already know.

  'Mr Fielding, we have four octaves tuned, will you come with us and check up on our work?'

  Georgiana of course was as driven as her teacher.

  'Good evening, Miss Darcy, I'm looking forward to accompanying you, as soon as I have said my hellos to everyone present.'

  That was easily arranged, and Elizabeth did the honours for her father.

  'Mr Fielding, may I introduce you to my father, Mr Bennet. He is staying with us for a few days. Papa, this is Georgiana's piano teacher, Mr Fielding, wait until you hear him play, you'll not believe how good he is.'

  Seeing her father in an excellent mood Elizabeth was glad, Mr Fielding was not someone who would take sarcasm well, or she had to be very much mistaken in his character.

  'Good evening to you, Mr Fielding, your pupil has made great progress since I last heard her play, some two months ago. You must be a great teacher.'

  'Thank you very much, Mr Bennet, though I cannot take all the credit for Miss Darcy's progress. She is very talented, and very dedicated, and a pleasure to teach.'

  After shaking hands with her father, Mr Fielding greeted Mrs Annesley heartily, and asked how she was doing. They exchanged a few politenesses, and then Georgiana got her way, Mr Fielding accompanying her to the dusty room with the other piano. Elizabeth of course came along, she wanted to know how good a job they had done, and with a bit of excitement she watched Mr Fielding take place on the rather worn stool. His beautiful hands touched the keys and he played a scale in the first octave, not up and down, but a complex variation that nonetheless sounded perfectly in tune to Elizabeth's ear. He played it again but without the variations this time, and he complimented them.

  'Well done, ladies, this one is perfect.'

  Sitting in front of a piano he seemed totally at ease with the two of them.

  But Elizabeth had noticed that having her hands on a piano made Georgiana very self-assured as well. Next he tested the higher octave and was pleased

  once again.

  'Perfect'

  The lower octave, key by key, once. Then twice.

  'Do you hear something amiss?' he asked.

  Elizabeth couldn't hear a thing, and Georgiana shook her head. Smiling broadly he said, 'I can't either, it's perfect!'

  They had two more octaves, the ones where inharmonics were most likely to make themselves heard. The higher one. He played it once, and again. This time, Georgiana said, 'Yes, I hear something I shouldn't.'

  And she bent over Mr Fielding to strike a key. It was not sour, but there was a slight twinge in it, something was indeed not right.

  'One of the three strings is slightly off, let's see which one.'

  And Mr Fielding bent over the piano, Georgiana and Elizabeth both exclaiming in horror, 'It's dusty, you'll ruin your suit!'

  But he laughed merrily, plucking strings here and there just for fun, until he found the right one. He plucked each one individually, and Georgiana said,

  'This one is off.'

  Then she handed him the muters and the tuning-hammer, and struck the key for him. And again. It was already done, perfectly in pitch with the neighbouring key, and after Mr Fielding had removed the muters, with the other two strings as well.

  They checked his suit in horror but it was perfectly clean.

  'Someone must have cleaned the piano, for it's not dusty at all,' he said coolly, remarkable since he had two ladies looking at him, he should be shy but he wasn't. He sat right back on the stool and checked the lower octave, and without comment he started to play.

  'You've got the inharmonics down pat, and I bet that one string lost its pitch due to the age of the instrument. It's a miracle you got it so well-tuned within days of starting to heat the room. Well done, ladies, you've passed your exam with flying colours.'

  'Let's go back down for dinner,' Georgiana proposed, 'I'm hungry.'

  'You look very beautiful, Miss Darcy,' Mr Fielding even dared to offer.

  'Thank you very much, Mr Fielding, you look very impressive yourself.'

  'Thank you Miss, it's my formal clothing for concerts, it's supposed to take the attention away from the performer, but personally, I find it very becoming.'

  And it was.

  Dinner was very entertaining, Mr Bennet enjoyed himself hugely with Mrs Annesley while the four young people amused each other discussing various subjects. Mr Fielding told them he was from the north of the country himself, though from another county than Derbyshire. He was the middle child of a large religious family, his talent for music discovered by the local priest, who had encouraged him to sing in the choir and had helped him develop his voice until he found out that little Eric Fielding could play any instrument he chose. The Father had helped him develop his skills until the boy eclipsed the master, and then he found him a patron, who sent him to school to make a gentleman out of the lower-class boy. It had been a lonely life since he had not been particularly welcome among the noble boys, but Eric studied hard and could always find solace with the piano, and the school's music teacher could still help him acquire new skills. His patron then took him in and had him taught by the best masters London could offer, even sent him out to Prague for a year to develop his talent further.

  'But in a way I'm stuck now, I cannot improve myself or make a name for myself here, there is too much competition of settled masters, I will not become famous without improving and I will not improve without the help of one of those masters. And lately there has been so much music filling my mind from inside me, I'm starting to wonder whether Miss Darcy isn't right, whether I should give up my ultimate goal of becoming an international performer and spend most of my time composing instead. I feel trapped in my current life, entertaining my patron, demonstrating his instruments for his customers whenever he wants me to, teaching. Please don't get me wrong, it's a much more pleasant life than herding cows on the moors, I'm not dissatisfied, but I was always so convinced there would be a higher goal for me. Oh well, I'm quite happy anyway, and I'm still young.'

  Elizabeth silently commended Georgiana for not exclaiming in reaction, for even Elizabeth was certain that there was a magnificent future waiting for this talented man. But neither of them said anything and Fitzwilliam asked him a question instead.

  'What would you do in a perfect world, Mr Fielding? Where money was no object and you could get any teacher you liked?'

  That didn't take him long.

  'I would keep on improving my playing by learning from the best masters,

  then perform in all the renowned venues, all across the world. Vienna, Rome, Paris, Berlin, Salzburg, the lower countries, I'd go everywhere and play for the rich and famous.'


  'That may be a tougher life than herding cows, Mr Fielding, travelling for weeks, lugging a piano around, living out of a suitcase never able to settle.

  You have lived in Prague, did that agree with you?'

  'You ask hard questions, Mr Darcy, but I thank you for them. Frankly, I did not like to travel, no. I loved my time in Prague once I got to know everyone there, especially my master, whom I admired. And visiting the tribes with him was an amazing experience.

  But I hated the dusty roads, the endless waiting on officials checking my paperwork, the danger of being robbed or even killed on the road, meeting new people who professed being connoisseurs of music but in fact didn't have the ear.'

  'I've heard that playing for the rich and famous demands an incredible investment, and that musicians working on their international career are often ruined financially by the expenses of their constant travelling. I'm not a very creative person myself, but I can imagine the fatigue and the constant worries having a negative influence on your inspiration and your ability to compose. Wouldn't the hardship of travel drive the music from your mind?

  Or would it inspire you to write more?'

  'My music is driven by feelings, I guess, and travelling certainly evoked great feelings within me. But since then I have discovered other feelings and they have inspired my music even more, so that now I can hardly stop hearing it. I'm looking forward to playing some of that music tonight, but first I'll play my concerto for Mrs Darcy.'

  Mr Fielding could not want Fitzwilliam to ask what other feelings he had discovered, right here in London, but of course Fitzwilliam already knew.

  And he bore his knowledge with fortitude, changing the subject to politics, and books, and the north of England where they were both from.

  After dinner, Mr Fielding begged to be excused to ready himself for the concert and get to know their instrument, and since the piano was located in the drawing-room, Mr Fielding accompanied the ladies there. Elizabeth had wondered at first why Fitzwilliam didn't have a music room with his sister so talented, and she had asked him one time. His answer had been so obvious Elizabeth wondered why she hadn't thought of it herself.

  'If we were to place the piano in a music room, my love, we'd never see Georgie, she'd always be there and grow lonely and estranged from people. I don't mind hearing her practise all day.'

  That was so true, and tonight it had the added advantage that Georgiana could show Mr Fielding the instrument and discuss its qualities without needing someone to chaperone her. Elizabeth and Mrs Annesley merely took up their needlework and discussed Fanny's efforts of that evening between the two of them.

  'I'll be honest with you, Mrs Darcy,' Mrs Annesley observed, 'I had great expectations of Fanny but both your appearances totally stunned me, she has done even better than I expected. In a year or two she will be wasted on you, unless the admiration you will get at the wedding will make you want to dress up on a daily basis.'

  Mrs Annesley was not very subtle in her observations, but neither was Elizabeth, and Mrs Reynolds had also been rather outspoken once she had gotten to know her mistress, maybe being outspoken was a good trait for a housekeeper. Or an unavoidable one. But Mrs Annesley was right, a talented lady's maid would not be satisfied attending two ladies who were relatively indifferent to their appearances.

  Laughing at the idea of herself suddenly becoming fashionable she replied,

  'I rather doubt that, Mrs Annesley, and if I did, I doubt Fitzwilliam would appreciate it. So I suppose we'll enjoy Fanny's services as long as she wants to stay with us. And when she gets a better offer we'll send her off with an excellent reference. I didn't recognise myself at first, though I'm rather comfortable now, I don't feel much different.'

  'You chose an excellent dress, it suits your personality well, and if one dresses in accordance with one's personality one feels comfortable despite some extra accessories and some jewellery. I commend your taste, that little coat is so becoming.'

  'Thank you Mrs Annesley.'

  As the married ladies talked and stitched away, Georgiana was quite excited to show Eric her instrument. He sat on the stool and stroked the wood reverently.

  'You have great taste in instruments, Georgiana,' he said, 'a Buntebart is a fine piano.'

  'It's my brother who chose this piano, Eric,' Georgiana had to admit, 'and

  before I was worthy of it. I don't remember who advised him to buy it but you can imagine I was very happy to have it. My brother doesn't play himself but he loves the innovations of this age. My instrument at Pemberley is a Clementi, he got that for me when he heard it had a totally different action than the usual instruments, Italian style so to speak. I like it very much. But here I am talking away when you need a little peace and quiet. Do you mind if I watch while you try it? I can join the stitching party you know.'

  'Talking with you is an excellent preparation for a concert, Georgiana. I'd be honoured if you want to stay with me while I explore your beautiful piano.

  And you may even comment or ask questions.'

  He was even talking infatuation now, not just merely looking it, but the other ladies were busy and he kept a tight lid on it when Fitzwilliam was with them. And when his hands began exploring the keys, Georgiana could soon feel the warmth of her admiration for his talent fill her, finally finding its usual outlet on her face, her cheeks burning and her eyes sparkling.

  His beautiful hands moved over the keyboard effortlessly, spreading music wherever they went, still exploring the reach of the piano, its pitch, the feel of the keys and the pedal. When he stopped playing abruptly it was a physical sensation, a wrench that woke her up out of her reverie.

  'Will you allow me to meddle with the tuning a little? Listen.'

  And he played one of those variegated scales. She had to learn those, the very next lesson, Miss Bingley would die of envy. But she could hear nothing wrong, this was what it always sounded like.

  'I hear nothing wrong, Eric. But you may tune it however you like. Shall I fetch the materials from upstairs?'

  'Can't you let a servant do that for you?' he asked mildly.

  'Of course. But somehow I feel uncomfortable letting others handle my tools or my instruments. Not you, or Elizabeth, not even my brother, just, well, people who don't understand. Is that arrogance?'

  'No, Georgiana,' Eric replied, his voice soft and affected, 'it's a sign of true dedication. I would appreciate it very much if you would fetch the tuning set. Just the hammer and the muters will be fine.'

  She might be dressed like a woman, Georgiana was still a sixteen-year-old girl, and she was back with the instruments in five minutes, breathing hard.

  'Thank you, you're pretty fast. Now watch, and listen.'

  And he played a scale, a normal one, then got up and bent over the row upon

  row of strings.

  'That is just beautiful, let me take a few moments to admire this. Have you seen the heart of your Buntebart? Independent dampers, and look, whale bone transitions, so beautiful.'

  In fact, Georgiana had never seen the inside of a piano before she saw Eric's, and she was very curious. Realising it might not be exactly proper to lean over a piano with a man, she ignored her thought. Mrs Annesley was no longer her lady companion, and Elizabeth trusted her sister.

  'If I tune this key, here, let me test it,' and he plucked the strings by hand,

  'that's the one, if I pitch it the tiniest of bits higher, you'll hear the difference.'

  This was very cosy, standing under the lid of the piano together, face to face, and Georgiana could almost imagine the two of them kissing here.

  Fortunately she really wanted to hear the effect, and she was back up in a second. Eric was, too, and he didn't even look disappointed but rather content. If this easy camaraderie was all he expected from her, he might not become disappointed or unhappy at all, she could give him this and enjoy it.

  Back on the stool Eric played the same scale, then a chord. The difference was there, but
what did it mean? It was not more harmonious, it was fine before and it was fine now, but how could that be?

  Eric could see the question in her eyes.

  'I don't know why it works this way, Georgiana. Theory has never been my greatest strength. I just know that if you pitch that key a tiny bit higher, your piano will sound fuller. Here, let me demonstrate.'

  And he launched into a well-known melody, centred around the key he adjusted, and it did sound fuller than when she played it. But that could merely be his superior execution, she just didn't know.

  'I can see I'm confusing you. Never mind, we had a good time there, didn't we? Time I start with my warming up.'

  And time for Georgiana to sit down, the force of his playing still staggered her, would she ever be able to achieve this level of skill? Did it matter when she could listen to Eric playing? Of course it did! Where had that thought come from? That was utter nonsense! She would never be able to compose as he did, she did not hear original music in her mind, just music she knew and had studied. But she could practise and work until she could play music as he played it, even his own compositions.

  Before long the gentlemen filed in and coffee was served. Georgiana brought Eric a cup, and he took it with pleasure.

  'You know I'm actually a bit nervous? I play concerts weekly, for rich merchants mostly. But never my own composition, yet. This feels like an exam.'

  'I understand, Eric, it must be very personal. And while Elizabeth and I are avid admirers of yours, my brother, Mr Bennet and Mrs Annesley are not music lovers, and rather demanding and imposing characters, all three of them. In a great hall that wouldn't matter but in a small company like this you'd certainly find out if they didn't like it.'

  He nodded and drank his coffee.

  'I suppose your brother does frighten me a little, yes.'

  'Only a little? You should have seen him before Elizabeth tamed him. But I assure you, he can be very undignified these days, and he is truly a very good and sweet person and the best brother ever. Elizabeth has him eating out of her hand, he worships her.'

 

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