And with that, he took his walking stick and swept out of the room.
The three were in shock and turned to look at each other. Finally, Mark went over to Emily who was barely able to speak as she still sat at the piano uncertain what to do next. He put his arm on her shoulder and said, “We must certainly consider his opinion, as he is, indeed, a professional.”
“But so am I,” Alice spoke up, “And I would venture to say I know every bit as much about professional musicians as he does.”
“But he has much more experience with my situation,” Emily said softly, just now beginning to assimilate the blow. “The two of you have been very supportive, but perhaps biased in my favor. What we have just had was a professional and unbiased assessment.”
“I think we need to examine our other options,” Mark said. “I have many other contacts. Fear not, dear Miss Emily, this is not over yet.”
“I think I should like that tea now,” Emily said. “I definitely need some fortification, and there is nothing like a good cuppa, is that not so?”
Alice laughed, breaking the tension. “I could not agree more.” And she rang the bell for the maid.
Emily stood up from the piano bench and, with her back turned to the others, retrieved the penny. She turned back to the Duke, went over to him, taking his hand and placing the penny in it.
“It might work for you, but it seems it does not for me.”
“I did not say it was fast acting. Perhaps the magic works more slowly than one might hope for. Keep it. I know it will work for you eventually.”
“But who knows? The magic might work in some other area of my life and not affect my career at all.”
“But that is the nature of magic—it is mysterious and surprising—just like life.”
Emily kept the penny and returned it to its safe-keeping place.
The tea arrived and they sat in comfortable chairs around the tea table.
Alice said as she served the tea, “I am certainly glad I did not invite Monsieur Bellieu to Linfield for our weekend. I was thinking to do it today. But it would have been a disaster.”
Mark appeared to be deep in thought before he said, “Speaking of that weekend, I have a few more chaps I should like to ask down. I have by no means exhausted my sources for the tour. I have several more European contacts. I shall send them invitations—express—and hope a few of them might be free to attend.”
“And what should I do now?” Emily asked. “I have left the trio with the expectation of touring and now I am out in the cold.”
“Let me speak to Silas about some local touring and perhaps I might explore a few other options.”
“Do you think I might need some coaching from someone experienced in training solo performers? I have doubts now about Giles. He might be fine for helping the trio, but he may not be experienced enough in working with solo performers.”
“Let me enquire around,” Alice offered. “My dear friend, Annika Stafford, who teaches at the Academy, might have a few suggestions.”
Emily sighed. “It never ends, does it? The work. The struggle. The anguish.”
“My dear, the level of rewards you are searching for do not come easy. Certainly, you must understand that by now,” Alice said gently.
Emily looked at her with the most sorrowful gaze. “I know. I truly do.”
“Oh, hello,” Trent exclaimed as he opened the Allen household’s front door. “I did not know you were to visit.” He seemed to think Emily did not appear to be her cheery self. “Come in, you look like you need a hug and a kiss on the cheek.”
“I do,” she said, bursting into tears, and stepping inside.
“Fanny,” Trent called out loudly. “We have a hug emergency.”
“Oh, oh, oh, oh,” Fanny cried out as she galloped to the entrance hall.
They threw their arms around Emily and gave her a series of cheek kisses.
“Now… come tell mama and papa all about it,” Fanny cooed as she led Emily to the parlor by the hand.
It was an unusually cloudy and cool afternoon and they had a small coal fire in the fireplace around which they sat.
Fanny had been reading, while Trent was in the middle of repairing a Wellington boot with a rubber patch. But all was abandoned to focus on Emily’s tears.
Emily dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. She blew her nose and composed herself before telling her friends of her ordeal at the hands of Andre Bellieu.
“Contemptible blighter!” Trent exclaimed when she had finished her tale. “Cast the blaggard out. Send him into exile!”
Emily laughed. “But he lives in France. One can hardly throw him out.”
“Metaphorically speaking, then,” he said with some finality.
“What are you to do?” Fanny asked. “You have already left the trio.”
“Keep at it. The Duke and Alice have arranged a country weekend at Linfield where there is to be an impressive guest list of musical notables. After all, one failure is not the end of the road.”
“How very brave you are,” Trent said, leaning forward in his chair and reaching out his hand.
Emily took his hand and shook it, “Thank you.” But he was reluctant to let go.
“Is there anything we can do?” he asked.
“Not really. Unless you are wizards at arranging a European tour.”
Fanny threw her hands up in the air. “I can barely organize my stocking drawer, let along a musical tour.”
Trent, unable to engage Emily physically any further, sat back in his chair. “By the way, what in deuces has happened to your sister?”
“Ruth?”
“No, the other one—the mousy Teresa. I saw her on our street the other evening and I did not recognize her until she spoke to me.”
Emily chuckled. “It was time to take her in hand. She has taken an interest in the new pianist for the trio, but she was hopelessly plain and needed some intervention. So I helped relieve her of her dowdy manner.”
“But that new pianist—is he not the young man who took you to that café where you both performed?” Fanny asked.
“He is.”
“And I thought the two of you were becoming more than just friends?”
Trent appeared to not like the direction this conversation was heading, and he folded his arms and pouted.
“He is charming and very attentive, but we are just friends right now. I cannot think of any serious romance while I am struggling with my career.”
“Then you are brightening up Teresa to be your substitute?” Trent asked hopefully.
“Not at all. He shows no interest in her. But she needs for him to at least like her, and she certainly needs a more professional appearance for the trio.” Emily turned to Trent. “And you thought Teresa looked better than before?”
He waggled his head. “Somewhat, but she still has those monstrous spectacles.”
“She is getting new ones. They will be much better.” Then Emily teased Trent by saying, “And I thought she might just be the perfect match for you, Trent.”
He looked at her aghast. “Emily, you know you are my only, enduring and true, lifetime love. How could you even suggest….”
She chuckled. “It was just a thought.”
Each sat back in their chairs in silence for a moment as the fire purred.
Fanny suddenly sprang out of her chair, “Oh, Emily, come. Father has installed the most ingenious new gadget in the kitchen. Come see.”
She reached out her hand to Emily’s and pulled her out of her chair.
Trent groaned. “You are not still going on about that meat grinder are you?”
“It is a miracle of modern science,” Fanny shouted back.
“And what was wrong with the knife?” Trent grouched.
Chapter 18
Chester Savoy held the carriage door as, first his wife, Alice, and then Emily descended from the carriage at the entrance to Linfield Hall.
Wesley, the butler, hobbled down the steps w
ith two footmen to take charge of the luggage. The Duke burst through the door and called out, “Welcome. So happy you all could make it. Chester…” he said, addressing the husband. “Miss Emily, welcome.” And then his sister rushed to him and they embraced.
“I am ready for the most delightful weekend,” she said, after kissing her brother on the forehead.
Chester conferred with Wesley to make sure the luggage was all accounted for and then he greeted Mark.
“Strapping weather, eh? I hear you have a stocked fish pond. Might like to take a try at the game. Brought along me own tackle. Will there be an opportunity this weekend?”
“Whatever suits you, Chester—by all means. Make yourselves at home and no need to stand on ceremony. The cooks have been cooking up a storm and all is ready for a jolly time. The bars are stocked. The fountains are running full blast. And I believe the deer are running, if you fancy a shoot.”
“Excellent. Jolly good,” Chester said, as he followed Wesley up the entrance steps, once again, counting each piece of luggage.
Alice had married well. Chester was only slightly older than she was. He was from a family that owned a midlands brewery and pubs. His managers ran the business, so he did not have to do a great deal more than check in with them occasionally, and care for his wife and children with his inheritance.
Chester was a large man. Not flabby or fat, but burly in the manner of a man who could lift and carry a barrel of ale. His red cheeks and nose gave him the appearance of one who drank too much, but he did not. He was a devoted family man and adored his wife as she did him.
Mark came down the steps to welcome Emily who was hanging back as the family greeted each other.
“I am so happy to see you. How have you been holding up since the audition?” he asked.
“Fair to middling,” she said. “But I have been working hard and have prepared a program for a recital this weekend to entertain your guests.”
“Excellent idea. There are a number of gentlemen and their families who are most influential in the music world. Several of whom I want you to meet and interview. I believe one or two might be in a position to do what Andre could—or would—not do.”
Mark offered her his arm and they ascended the steps.
“And the Duchess? Will she be in attendance? I should love to see her again.”
“Of course, she would not miss this crowd for anything. She loves company and chides me that we do not entertain enough. However, the county fair is this weekend, and she has several entries in the flower show, so she will be slightly distracted by worrying about the results of the competition.”
They entered the house and a lady’s maid greeted Emily and led her to her suite.
“Miss, I am Sally. If you need anything at all, I am at your service,” she said with a curtsy.
“Thank you, Sally. I will need help with dressing for dinner. And I should like to bathe before I dress. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all, Miss. We have water on the boil all weekend just for the guest’s baths.”
“Thank you. That will be all for now,” Emily said.
“Shall I unpack your valise first?”
“Oh, yes, that would be nice.”
Emily went over to the large array of windows overlooking the lake and gardens in front of the house. It was a lovely afternoon and the clouds were scuttling by in the late spring breeze. She had no idea what to expect from this weekend, but she believed Mark was working hard on her behalf, and she took comfort in that.
Mark was conferring with Wesley in the library over the service for dinner that evening.
“I expect a few of our European guests may be delayed because of high seas over the channel. Therefore, I cannot say with any certainty what the final dinner count will be, Wesley.”
“Not to worry Your Grace, I shall lay a full table and seat the guests so that there will be a few empty spaces in the middle should your guests show up late.”
Mark nodded. “That should suffice. Thank you, Wesley. Oh, and make certain there is enough hock on ice for the second course.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Wesley turned to leave the library just as the door opened and Sophie came in, looking fresh and eager to enjoy the weekend.
“It has been a long time since you had such a weekend crowd. It is quite delightful. I was afraid you were sinking into your dotage and becoming an old fuddy at an early age.”
She came over and wound her arm around Mark’s waist.
He took her hand and released himself from her hold by turning from the scoop of her arm.
“I hope you enjoy yourself, but please remember this is partially a working weekend for me. I am tasked with firming up a tour for my protégé, Miss Dunn. There are a number of guests who are of the London and European musical circles and I must give them a great deal of my personal attention throughout the weekend.”
Sophie pouted. “You are beastly, Mark. I want to have fun. Why must you always be working on something? Work is for weekdays. Weekends are supposed to be for sport, laughter, and gaiety.”
“Well, it is still only Friday, so you must give me some leeway,” he said teasingly.
“Well, then, are there any charming young gentlemen with whom I may amuse myself while you abandon me?”
“Let me see. There is the charming Mr. Clinton, who is a banker in attendance with his arthritic wife, Clementine. And there is the gentleman from Whitehall who perambulates in a wheelchair and coughs up phlegm. And, lest we forget, there is the delightful Chester Savoy, my charming sister’s husband who comes from a brewing family. I am sure any or all of them would be delighted to entertain you.”
“Oh, Mark, you are a terrible bother. I am not certain I even want to stay.”
“But then you will miss out on Miss Dunn’s--what I am certain will be--charming recital.”
Sophie threw her hand up in the air. “Oh, I can hardly wait for that yawn. I can see this is to be a long and boring weekend. I am so glad I brought along my intriguing novel. I shall bury myself under the covers and read all night and sleep in all day.”
“You may do exactly as you wish, my dear Sophie. And I promise to spend time with you at some point during the weekend. Perhaps we might go riding, or hunting, if there are others who would be interested. Is that something you might enjoy?”
She came over and took his arm and snuggled up to him and said coyly, “What I would really like is to snuggle up to you next to a cozy fire, wrapped in a blanket, and sipping your wonderful aged cognac.”
“But, my dear Sophie, it is almost summer and we are not keeping any fires going this time of year.”
“But you understand what I am trying to say,” she said, becoming agitated and pulling away from him.
Mark sighed. Sophie was becoming more of a burden than a joy, even though they had a longstanding friendship.
“Sophie, I must go. I have many guests who require my attention. Please know I want you to be here and I trust you will be able to entertain yourself. My staff is always at your disposal if you require anything. Now, if you will excuse me, I must leave. However, I shall see you at dinner this evening, with drinks before in the green salon at seven.”
Emily had inquired from Wesley where she might find the Duchess. She was in the conservatory and Emily was directed where to find her.
She entered the wonderfully moist and fragrant space and stopped to admire the plants and trees before looking around to find the Duchess.
“Hello? Your Grace? It is Miss Emily Dunn. Are you in here?”
“Over here, my dear,” a voice called out from a far corner of the glasshouse.
Emily wound her way through the jungle foliage to where the Duchess was standing with a young man carefully placing an arrangement of cut roses in a box.
“Now stuff this wool tightly around the base to support the vase,” the Duchess said.
“Yes, Your Grace,” the man said, taking wool out of a bag and stu
ffing it inside the box.
The Duchess turned to Emily as she came forward. “What do you think of my entries for the county fair flower competition?”
Emily first examined the beautiful arrangement of perfectly formed roses. It consisted of roses of different colors and in various stages of opening—from buds to fully open blooms.
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