Revelations

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  'I guessed, though I've not seen much of it. She's very beautiful, and closer to your age than his, I'd say.'

  'Indeed, but we are not at all alike, I've always been shy and Elizabeth is absolutely fearless. She makes me feel very safe when I'm with her.'

  'But you both like music, and have true hearing. I'm ready to start, Georgiana, will you notify the others?'

  She just told him she was shy and now he wanted her to speak to people. Oh well, these weren't strangers to her after all, and not nearly as imposing as Eric deemed them, he was merely in love with a girl who was above him and feared to be judged over that. But Georgiana wished the entire party to know that Eric was an admirable person, maybe not for his birth, but certainly for the way he had overcome its disadvantages, certainly a true gentleman in address, and the best pianist they had ever heard.

  'Ladies and gentlemen,' she said, louder than usual, immediately catching everyone's attention, 'it is my honour to present to you the extraordinarily talented Mr Fielding, who will perform his magnificent concerto for you tonight, for the very first, but certainly not the last time, for very soon it will be heard in every concert hall in London, England, and abroad. Let's hear it for Mr Fielding!'

  Nearly stunned with surprise, Fitzwilliam and Mrs Annesley applauded her, Elizabeth smiled and applauded, and Mr Bennet looked approving, but not

  surprised at all. He was deep, her sister's father, and very likeable. But now Georgiana needed to sit down, for Eric was starting.

  Chapter 34

  The next hour was a long journey, starting in the lush green forests and gardens of England, across the rough seas to the continent, and through fruitful Germany to the beautiful city of Prague. Eric gave short introductions to the different stretches of his journey, and Georgiana recognised the part he played for them when Elizabeth had first accompanied her, it was one of the best sequences and indeed very wild.

  Even though Eric had adapted this whole piece to the strict rules of traditional composing, it was still shamelessly romantic, evoking different feelings at every leg of his journey. But after hearing his original piece, the new one, this now seemed too polished, Georgiana's eyes had been opened by the real thing. Totally captivated by its heart-rending beauty she could not help but wonder how the original would have sounded. Eric told her this was a concerto, which meant it should be performed with an orchestra, did he already have the music written for all the other instruments, and would he have any chance at all to ever have it played in full? Looking at Elizabeth, Georgiana could see she was enraptured, and the other three were as well, even Mr Bennet, who had a reputation for being cranky. Then she stopped thinking and let herself be taken away on the sounds of the piano, her very own piano. When the last notes had died away, everyone was silent, there was no applause for it would break the spell. Then Eric broke it himself.

  'I was hoping you would do me the honour of listening to part of this piece in its original form. This afternoon I have played it back myself for the first time since I wrote it down, just as I wrote it down, and I would love to hear your opinion.'

  'There is nothing I'd like to hear more,' Elizabeth observed.

  It was the bit Elizabeth undoubtedly liked best, the wild piece that had first caught her attention. Hearing the original Georgiana knew she was right, and Elizabeth even before her. This was better, it lived, it breathed, no-one had ever told such a story with just a piano. People everywhere would love

  it, maybe not the self-proclaimed music connoisseurs, they would find it sloppy, but everyone else had to feel the force of this.

  Eric played a full ten minutes of his original score, and this time when he stopped playing they did applaud, with all the force five people could deliver.

  'That was amazing, Mr Fielding, thank you so much.'

  Elizabeth was very much affected.

  'I'm still a bit confused, where did you take us?'

  Even Mr Bennet felt the power of this composition. 'Those wild mountains again? They sounded a lot more dangerous this time.'

  They talked a while, about foreign countries and travels, and then Eric offered to play some lighter entertainment, and when his audience agreed he looked at Georgiana in supplication.

  'Will you play with me, Miss Darcy?'

  She should have known, and she really didn't mind, but her stool was a bit narrow for two, so she lugged a footstool to the piano and sat beside him.

  'Do you need the sheet music?'

  'We've played this so often, I can do without.'

  They played their quatre mains, both very difficult pieces, and the beautiful song. Knowing Eric had been in a choir as a boy made his fabulous voice even more profound somehow, he must have been in agony losing it, then overjoyed to get it back intact, though a lot deeper, of course. And then Eric sprung his surprise.

  'Now, Mrs Darcy, I have played for you several times, and I know you play lively folk songs and the occasional reel, but I've never heard any of them.

  Can I tempt you to entertain me, and your guests, with a few songs?'

  Elizabeth showed surprise, and a distinct unwillingness, understandable after such entertainment as had been provided so far.

  'Please don't be mad at me, Mrs Darcy, I'm sure Miss Darcy can be convinced to help you out, and I offer a reward. If you will play three songs for me, I will play for you, and the rest of our audience, the whole of my second composition as far as I have it written down. All of it. Will you take my offer?'

  He was certainly very charming, and very devious. After his obvious admiration for Elizabeth as he came in, to tease her and offer to play especially for her, no-one would ever believe him to be Georgiana's admirer.

  Fitzwilliam would think he had a thing for Elizabeth, and since he trusted

  his beloved unconditionally he would not even mind that. He might even understand.

  'Will you please play with me, Elizabeth?'

  Georgiana knew she would need some convincing.

  'All right, but not by myself. It would be cruel to subject anyone to my bungling when they've just heard a master play, and sing.'

  Georgiana quickly put the sheets of the songs they had practised together on the stand, and they played and sang two very creditable duets. Then Elizabeth played the folk song she had taught Georgiana, and Georgiana joined in with the singing. Her sister's fingering had improved a lot, and she even remembered the correct stance, Georgiana was impressed. If Elizabeth had a little more ambition she could advance quickly. But for now, Elizabeth was clearly glad it was over, she had done what she had to, to earn another piece of superior music. The audience, including Eric and of course especially Fitzwilliam, applauded the two of them heartily, and Eric got up from the chair he was sitting in and moved back to the piano stool.

  'You have earned your reward, Mrs Darcy, that was pretty good, much better than you described your own accomplishments. I'm sorry to startle you into playing like this, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Thank you very much for your performance.'

  And the music started once more, quietly, lovingly, Georgiana now open to its full effect. As Eric's feelings grew stronger, they took Georgiana along with them and she felt honoured and flattered to have inspired an adult man, a supremely talented man, to write this beautiful music, to feel such powerful emotions. If she listened to this composition too often she would fall in love, it could not be helped, it was so beautiful. Fortunately it was still mainly heartening in tone, there were a few moments in minor, but most of it was elevating, spirited, hopeful. Again, she gave herself up to the experience, and after fifteen minutes, when Eric was done and the music faded slowly, she was not ashamed to wipe a few tears from her eyes. She wanted to hug him and tell him to be patient, wait for her, but she could not.

  Not because of propriety, but not from her own heart either. She just didn't know, would she ever be able to love him? Could he really love a woman over and above his music? Georgiana was not the kind of woman to marry an artist, then
sacrifice herself to him and his children, she was an artist, too, and had been used to people caring for her all her life, she had never known

  hardship, she was probably not suitable to anything else but to be a gentlewoman, no matter how harsh a realisation that was. Those thoughts did not help to stop her tears and she feared to make a scene, but Mr Bennet spied her and took her to a quiet corner, with the excuse of not wanting to disturb the atmosphere by having servants come in to pour some wine.

  'There, there,' Elizabeth's nice father said, he was actually not that old, not even fifty she'd guess. His hair was greying and he had quite a few lines in his face, but he was probably outside riding and hunting all the time, and the skin tended to show that.

  'That composition sure was powerful, Miss Georgiana, your piano teacher is a sensitive, and sensible, man. And very talented as well. I hope the world is ready for him, I wouldn't be surprised, most people like a good cry now and then. If my first love ever hadn't turned out so dramatic but in a totally unsentimental way I'd have shed a few tears myself. I still may, for what might have been had I been as fastidious and as fortunate as your brother.'

  That was right, Elizabeth's silly mother was his wife, it was incredible he had ever thought it a good idea to marry her. But it would be so much worse if Georgiana were to marry the wrong man, he'd own her.

  'You'd better follow his example and choose very carefully, Miss Darcy.

  Remember child, money isn't everything, sitting at a table and having something to say to one another is generally vastly underrated.'

  Was he telling her a certain pianist might be a good choice for her?

  'Well, I'm ready to carry a few glasses, are you allowed wine at your age?'

  'If it's well-watered, yes, I can have one glass.'

  'Then this one is for you, see, more water than wine. I suppose Mr Fielding is an adult, and Lizzy is married to one, which makes five glasses of unwatered wine. Here you go.'

  And they each carried three glasses of wine to the group of people now sitting and talking, and handed everyone a glass. By the time they arrived, Georgiana had her feelings under control.

  After one glass of wine and a lot of interesting talk about Mr Fielding's music, Mrs Annesley announced she had to go home.

  'My husband will be waiting for me, he's getting spoiled with my being home most evenings.'

  Mrs Annesley, joking at the expense of her husband? The end of the world must be nigh.

  Mr Bennet said, 'I'll show you out, and then I'm going to say goodnight to the library, and turn in myself.'

  Georgiana was actually rather tired and she felt it might be wise to leave Mr Fielding to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth for a while, not to seem too attached to him, so she took her leave as well.

  'Thank you so much for your beautiful music, Mr Fielding, I had no more trouble feeling its force. I'm sure most people will truly appreciate it, normal people, I really think they'll pay to hear you play. See you the day after tomorrow for my lesson, I'm looking forward to it. And thank you so much for helping us learn to tune. Good night!'

  She shook his hand with feeling, and he very briefly put his other hand on hers.

  'It was my pleasure, Miss Darcy, and I'm looking forward to our next lesson.

  Thank you so much for your trust in me, it really helps me. Good night.'

  Darcy was very surprised to see his sister leave before Mr Fielding did, but she seemed happy enough and indeed rather tired. He still hadn't seen even the slightest sign of their guest admiring her, if anything he'd say the musician admired Elizabeth, but if both ladies said so, Darcy could not but believe them. One thing was certain at the very least, he truly liked the young man, a lot. His life's story was very touching, and in a way much more interesting than any of their own lives.

  Instead of taking his leave, Mr Fielding now asked, 'Mr and Mrs Darcy, would I be imposing on your time very much if I were to ask you to bear with me for another half hour?'

  Of course Elizabeth would comply, she liked him.

  'Certainly, Mr Fielding, of what use may we be to you? Please sit down, do you want another glass of wine?'

  See, he knew it.

  'If it is not too much to ask of you, I'd like that, please. This is hard for me to talk about, but I've been feeling the need to share it with someone for some time now, and this day has brought new developments. I hoped to find the two of you not just understanding listeners, but also qualified to give me some sound advice.'

  That didn't sound as if he was going to ask permission to woo Georgie. He was looking at Darcy now, to ask his leave to speak up as well as Elizabeth's, he truly didn't want to impose.

  'If we can be of any assistance, Mr Fielding, it will be our pleasure to help you. Please sit down, you too, Elizabeth, I'll pour the wine.'

  As Darcy did just that, he could hear his beloved praising Mr Fielding's work once more.

  'I've never heard music with such impact before, Mr Fielding, I truly believe people of all levels of society will feel it and want to hear it. I think you have a real future as composer. It's not connoisseurs who will fill a concert-hall, it's the people coming to watch you perform who will be doing that.

  Maybe you should consider stepping out of the safety of your patron's connections to bring your music to the real people.'

  Mr Fielding actually brightened a little, causing Darcy to realise his animation had been gone as soon as Georgiana left the room. But that had not been due to love, he had been hiding something from her, something that was bothering him, and they were about to find out what. When they were all sitting comfortably, glass of wine in hand, Mr Fielding told them what was riding him.

  'I told you my patron enabled me to attend a good school, where I learned my manners and improved my playing manifold. Then he took me under his wings directly, engaging a master to teach me, much like I teach Miss Darcy now. He sent me to Prague to study for a year, though that was not merely for studying, he also wanted me to find a new market for his pianos and harpsichords, my patron was one of the first manufacturers of pianos in London and before that he already made harpsichords, still does. I owe him everything, without him I would indeed be herding cows on the moors, or more likely, be dead, for I was not a vigorous child.'

  Mr Fielding paused awhile to take a sip from his glass of wine, then continued.

  'I have always had great respect for my patron, I even loved him as a parent, but recently we have not been seeing eye to eye anymore. I am an artist, I want to improve my skills as performer, and for that I need to find a new master abroad to teach me. After that, I want to travel the world to perform in the greatest halls, though Mrs Darcy, your notion of bringing music to the common people, the tradesmen, even the working people, does stir something inside me. Of course my aspirations are expensive to fulfil, and I would be out of town, even out of the country for at least a year, and then for months at a time afterwards, but I could represent my patron's business interests wherever I went, making back some of the money he invested in

  me, and making up for my absences by gaining him clients and new markets for his instruments.

  'He, however, is not interested in furthering my career and allowing me to develop, he says I'm the best player in London and I should be pleased with that. My patron wants me to stay put, play larger venues here, on his instruments. He's had the famous Mozart play one of his, did you know that? And in a way I can understand why he refuses to spend even one more penny on my advancement, since he doesn't profit by it, being a tradesman, not an artist. He does not feel the drive I have, he cannot understand how unhappy I am becoming. In short, my patron, to whom I owe everything, has fettered me to London and to his business interests, and now he wants me to marry his daughter. Louise is pretty, she is sweet, she is his heir and will be very wealthy one day, but she is not developed at all. She has no interests beyond running a household and raising children, never reads, and has nothing of any interest to say, and yet she admires me as her h
ero. My indifference is very hurtful to her and it pains me, too, for I love her as a sister and hate to see her unhappy. But ever since I met your sister, Mr Darcy, I have known I'd rather stay single all my life than marry a girl without drive, without ambition of her own. So, with a career as performer out of reach, and an infatuated maiden eyeing me across the dining table each evening, I was already starting to lose heart. Then this afternoon the worst thing happened. You know I have not performed my entire concerto to anyone before this evening, it is very personal and I did not want to risk rejection of something so close to my heart. I have not even dared to perform it for my patron, because he loves the more intricate pieces of music. But this afternoon, as I prepared for this private concert, I was playing back some of the original sheet music and I got totally caught up by its force and feeling. When I was done, I saw my patron, he had come in without my noticing it, and I could see at once that he hated it. He wanted to know what I was playing and I told him, and he wanted me to promise him I would never play my own music in public.

  I could not promise him that and I told him so, but not as frankly as I would have liked to, I know you will understand! How can I deny myself after having been forced to deny my ambitions already? Will I have to spend the rest of my life indentured to him? It would be a pleasant captivity, with good food, all the luxuries I'd want, a sweet wife, and wealth and freedom after my patron's death. But I've never strived for an easy life, I want

  challenges, I want to truly live, I cannot deny the music that is in my mind. I cannot play other composers' music when my own is fighting its way out day and night until I write it down. I fear that if I don't obey him he will throw me out and find another musician to promote his instruments, and I'm afraid of becoming destitute. I'm not strong, I cannot do anything but play and compose, I cannot work the docks or serve in a household, I was raised a gentleman, without any practical skills. But I know I cannot become a placid, fat husband to a tradesman's daughter either, playing sonatas on my father-in-law's pianos to demonstrate their superb quality and latest innovations. Please give me advice, I need it!'