“Won’t you dance with me, Miss Talbot? Or are you only allowed to stand up with your brothers?” It was Edward Standford.
“Please let go,” she tried again to free her hand.
“Dance with me,” he insisted.
“No, I need to…”
Edward pulled her off balance towards him. “Come on. Just one dance.” He tugged her towards the dance floor, her wrist hurting now. He stopped short, a hand on his shoulder.
“Miss Talbot has promised this dance to me,” said a firm voice.
Both Dahlia and Edward looked back at the speaker.
It was James Kent.
Chapter 11
Dahlia was so surprised she could not say anything. James was not looking at her in any event. His normally bright blue eyes had the look of a stormy sky before the heavens broke open, and his stare was directed at Edward. He, too, must have been surprised, since he still had hold of Dahlia’s wrist. His reputation of being a bully was not just held by Dahlia, and he certainly was not accustomed to being gainsaid by many people.
“And who the devil are you?” he asked crossly.
“Kent,” said James tersely. “Now unhand the young lady.” It was not a request, it was a demand.
As was often true of most bullies, Edward was a coward and if his bravado did not get him what he wanted, he only resorted to physical actions if he knew he could win. He sized up James quickly and decided the odds were not in his favor. He dropped Dahlia’s wrist and, turning away from James, purposefully bumped into Dahlia’s shoulder as he retreated. James reached out quickly to ensure Dahlia kept her balance. She watched Edward go, then looked back at James. Before she could say anything he said, “I believe this is our dance?”
He gently took her hand and led her to the dance floor. The number was a waltz and he raised her hand he was holding and slipped his other hand behind the small of her back. They waited three beats, then began the dance amidst the dozens of couples circling around the dance floor.
Dahlia stared into his eyes, which had lost their darkness and were looking back at her with amusement.
“I do hope you weren’t just playing hard to get with that young man,” he said, with a smile that only lifted on one side of his mouth. “Otherwise, you might just slap me again.”
Dahlia couldn’t help but laugh at this. “No. On this occasion, I am indeed grateful for your intervention. He is a bully and always has been.”
“And where was the gallant young man I saw you dancing with earlier? You and he certainly seem to be on rather friendly terms.”
“Steven?” Dahlia said, and James’ eyebrows went up at the intimate use of the young man’s first name.
“He’s my brother. One of them, I should say.”
James seemed pleased by this answer. “How many do you have?”
“Five.”
“Well, they should look after you more closely.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Oh? And what would you have done if I hadn’t shown up, all the way from London?”
“Trod on his foot.”
“I hope you are not inclined to do the same to me,” teased James, expertly whirling her around the dance floor. All she could think was that he was so light on his feet, she would never find his foot to step on it.
Dahlia smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For not being able to say good-bye to you before you left London. My uncle needed me to accompany him immediately after the service at the cathedral.”
Dahlia was smiling on the inside as well as outwardly. So he had wanted to see her after the service! “And you finagled an invitation from the Earl of Bathurst to make this apology?”
“Indeed. I wrote to him of my plight and he acquiesced immediately. He has a very romantic spirit the Earl does.” Dahlia laughed, thinking of the grandfatherly earl who had never married.
“No, truthfully. How is it we are here dancing together in Cirencester?”
“Fate, Miss Talbot. We were meant to be dancing together. Otherwise, my uncle would not be an old school friend of the Earl’s, and he would not have bumped into him last month in London, and he wouldn’t have put my uncle on the guest list for his annual Christmas soiree.”
“I’m pleased you’re here, Mr. Kent,” Dahlia said honestly. She had not once taken her eyes from his since they started dancing, and she did not have any idea where she was in the great ballroom as she and Mr. Kent kept swirling around and around. The Gaggle, however, knew exactly where she was at every step. It was Mr. Kent they had been gossiping about earlier. Every one of them had their eyes glued to the pair, and if they had been able to hear her being so honest as he teased about romantic earls and talked of fate, they would have been sorely ashamed of her. Surely any one of them would have gushed of their gratefulness for rescuing them from Edward, probed his romanticism, and decidedly agreed that fate had brought them together.
Guile escaped Dahlia, however, when it came to Mr. Kent. Even if she had thought of something cute and conniving to say, it was as if his deep blue eyes would draw the truth out of her.
“The pleasure is mine, I assure you, Miss Talbot,” he said, at last coming to a halt as the music ended. He dropped his hand from her back, but took his hand holding hers and kissed her wrist precisely where Edward had gripped it so hard. She found this action quite endearing, as if he thought he could kiss away a hurt.
“How long will you be in this part of the country, Mr. Kent?” she asked as they exited the dance floor.
“We leave tomorrow,” he said, and there was disappointment in his face.
“Oh.” Dahlia felt the disappointment she had felt on the train leaving London creeping back. “Well, we must make the most of your time here this evening! May I introduce you to my brothers?”
“Of course. I’d also like to see Sir Randal and Lady Sweet again, and pay my respects to your father.”
Dahlia smiled and walked with James to where her brothers and the Smythe twins were laughing and talking animatedly.
“Leland, Steven, I’d like to introduce you to a new acquaintance from London. This is James Kent.” Her brothers and the twins were immediately wary. Dahlia was not one to have male “acquaintances” from town. James noted their demeanor and approved. He would have done the same with any of his sisters. Dahlia then introduced Denny and Danny. Once the obligatory greetings were completed, the official sizing up of the newcomer began. Dahlia felt – rather than consciously knew – she should leave them to it. When the question of how they met came up, he mentioned quite properly that she had been with the Sweets and her father, and Lady Sweet had invited him to join the after-concert party. Dahlia took the opportunity to excuse herself to find her friends so that they could see him.
Another dance was in progress, so she had to maneuver through the crowds at the perimeter of the dance floor to get to the Sweets on the other side of the room. She was accosted halfway by the Gaggle. Everyone wanted to know about the handsome stranger – who he was, where he was from, how good his family connections were and, of course, how was it that she should be dancing with him. It was at least fifteen minutes before they were sated enough to let her continue on.
At last, she arrived by the side of her friends. “Mr. Kent is here, and desirous to see you. May I bring him over?” Sir Randal’s expression was a complete blank, as if she had asked the question in Flemish. Lady Sweet’s expression was complete surprise.
“Your Mr. Kent?” she asked.
“Who’s Mr. Kent?” asked Sir Randal.
“The young man you and Peter were talking to at the party in London, darling.” Still no recognition registered on her husband’s face. Sharon sighed, exasperated. She turned to Dahlia.
“Of course we’d like to say hello. Bring him over,” she said, excited for Dahlia.
Dahlia decided to take the opposite side of the ballroom on the way back to
her brothers to avoid the Gaggle. When she reached the boys, they were eagerly listening to James, then all burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
All the boys looked at one another. Leland said, “Nothing – just a good joke.”
“Well if you aren’t going to share it with me, it had to be very raucous indeed!”
The group just laughed some more. Dahlia could see that all pretense and wariness had evaporated. Maybe if girls told raucous jokes they would be more inclined to make fast friends like these boys. She had asked Lady Sweet why the Gaggle seemed so ingenuine even though the girls claimed to be friends. She had said that men were just less choosy – all they needed was a favorite beer in common, similar political views so they could complain together about the opposition, or an appreciation for off-color humor. Women, however, needed to gage the competition and assess what manner of threat a new acquaintance posed in terms of her looks, wealth, family, and accomplishments. The fairer sex, perhaps, but much more complicated.
“Miss Talbot,” said a voice behind her. “Your presence is requested in the conservatory.” She turned to find one of the Earl’s servants standing there.
“Oh,” she said. “Of course.” She turned back to James and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kent. I was to take you to the Sweets. They’re over there,” she told him, pointing across the ball room. Steven smiled at his sister.
“You go on, Dahlia. I’ll take him over.” James looked from brother to sister, wondering where she was going. Before he could ask, Steven was taking his arm and heading towards the Sweets and Dahlia was following the servant to wherever the conservatory was.
Chapter 12
When Dalia reached the conservatory entrance, the servant stood by the door, bowed to her as she went in, then closed the door behind her. The beautiful piano forte gleamed in the candlelight. She saw the Earl and Miss McElroy looking at some papers on the piano. They both looked up as she entered the room, her little heeled boots clicking on the pale pink marble floor.
“Ah, there she is!” said the Earl happily. “Miss Josephine McElroy, may I introduce the very talented young Miss Dahlia Talbot.”
Dahlia approached the piano and curtsied to the famous singer.
“You hardly need to point out she’s young, Allen. At our age, everyone is younger than we are!” She laughed and gestured to Dahlia. “Come, my dear. Don’t be shy. The Earl here wants us to do a duet. I told him I was far too old and fat to be paired with someone as slight and adorable as you, but he won’t let me out of it.” She leaned closer to Dahlia and said, “And he outranks us both – so we are obliged to do it.”
Dahlia smiled at her as music began in her head. Trumpets! Dahlia rarely heard music with trumpets when getting to know a woman; they were usually associated with men in her mental compositions. But trumpets there were, and they seemed to suit her perfectly. She couldn’t help but like any woman who inspired trumpets! She had expected to be intimidated by someone of such renown, but Miss McElroy had put her immediately at ease. She had removed the wonderful hat with the arched feather she had seen on her earlier. She had very dark auburn hair with a distinct streak of white hair starting to one side of her forehead and swept back into her coif on the opposite side. Dahlia found this vastly interesting and even fashionable.
Miss McElroy sat down on the pink satin-covered piano bench. She patted the space beside her and Dahlia sat down. “What do you think of this?” she said, setting some music on the stand. Dahlia sat down and glanced at the pages. She immediately heard the orchestra as the notes jumped off the page. She heard the two soprano voices complimenting one another and immediately turned the page to see where the composition went. She quickly scanned it to the end.
“Oh! It’s absolutely brilliant! Which part shall I sing?”
Miss McElroy stared at her curiously. “Why don’t you start? Do you play, too?”
“Yes, of course,” said Dahlia and began the piece immediately, wanting to hear the music with her ears and not just her mind. She started the lyrics while Miss McElroy glanced from the music to the girl beside her. She joined in for the second verse and Dahlia’s eyes sparkled as she heard the woman’s voice, rich in tone and powerful. The third verse required measures of one voice, then the other. Following this was the combination of the two voices, one reaching higher than the other, then lowering it beneath the notes of the first in a vocal braid. Dahlia had never heard anything so magical as her voice paired with that of Miss McElroy to the harmony of this unforgettable arrangement.
“Bravo! Bravo! Capital!” cried the Earl. Dahlia had quite forgotten he was still standing beside the piano, she was so caught up in the music.
Miss McElroy smiled at her old friend. “Yes. Yes. You were right, again. Go on Allen. Leave us girls to our practice. We’ll be ready for you to open the doors in twenty minutes.”
The Earl smiled broadly – thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing the two singers together. He bowed to them both, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Dahlia thought he and Miss McElroy must be very close friends for her to address him so informally.
The older woman seemed to read her mind. “He’s as old as dirt and I’m as old as the moss that grows on that dirt. With that length of history, we don’t have time to waste with titles.” Dahlia found herself smiling again. “Now tell me child, have you seen this music before?”
“No, ma’am,” she said honestly.
“But you merely glanced over all the pages and knew how to sing that quite admirably the first time. How is that?”
Dahlia didn’t know what to say. Or rather, she didn’t know how to explain it. “Well,” she began, “when I read the music, I hear it in my head. As it is written,” she added.
“And I imagine you’ve got it in there for good now, have you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Miss McElroy nodded, approving. “I’m sure I’ll regret knowing the answer, but how old are you?”
“Thirteen.”
“Baker’s dozen,” she laughed. Her laugh wasn’t the delicate tinkling sound of Lady Sweet’s laugh, or the rather constrained titter of the laugh of the girls in the Gaggle. This was a full belly laugh produced from deep inside her. “Quite extraordinary,” she went on, staring directly at Dahlia. “When I was eighteen, they said I was gifted with an ‘extraordinary vocal capacity’ – according to a London gazette review, but I always had to go through a composition many times to have it memorized. Here you are reading and memorizing music as swiftly as water running downhill.” She shook her head and started looking through more music pieces. “But can you break glass with your voice!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dahlia said, rolling her eyes. “Once I broke one of my mother’s sherry glasses my father was holding. He got very angry with me.” Dahlia remembered his shock and then his shouting when the glass cracked and started dripping the liqueur on his hand and carpet. He had apologized later and told her if it had been any other glass but one of the set her mother had picked out, he would have been much more impressed.
Miss McElroy whipped her head back to face Dahlia. She could see from the girl’s serious expression she was not boasting. “Hit the E for me child.”
Dahlia glanced around nervously, looking for anything glass. “Oh go on, the Earl can afford to replace anything in this room.”
Dalia took a deep breath and went straight for the note. No scales, no approach, just a direct hit on that high E. Dahlia still gave furtive looks to ensure nothing was going to crack. She stopped and looked at Miss McElroy. She gave another deep laugh and shook her head.
“You’re the real thing, aren’t you? Good thing I’m not a hundred years younger or singing with you would end my career! But since God was kind enough to put a century between us, you may just keep my career going!” She nodded decisively. “Yes Miss Dahlia Talbot, it will be my pleasure to sing with you this evening.”
It wasn’t until th
at moment that Dahlia realized this had been an audition. Request from the Earl or not, if this woman had not thought her good enough, she would not have performed with her in public tonight. Of this she was quite sure. She also recognized the extraordinary compliment she had just been paid. Dahlia rarely read reviews of her performances – she let Lady Sweet cut those out of the papers and keep them in a book for her. Nor did she ever sing to impress anyone. It was simply what she did. But tonight, she felt very proud to have this woman consider her very good.
“I would be happy just to sing that one duet with you, Miss McElroy.”
“Nonsense, child. We’re here to entertain the Earl and his guests. Entertain we shall!” she started shuffling music papers again. She stopped and leaned towards Dahlia to whisper, “And you better call me Josy, we’re going to be very good friends!”
Within ten minutes, they had a repertoire of songs picked out, the sequence, and who would sing what for the party of guests. Just before ten o’clock, the musicians entered to set up, forming a semi-circle around the piano. At ten o’clock sharp, the doors were opened and more than one hundred elegant guests sauntered in.
Chapter 13
James was thoroughly enjoying himself in a way he never had in London. Town had its delights, and was full of interesting people, beautiful women, and compatible friends. But his city life felt somehow unreal compared to the life he was viewing here, in Cirencester. Most of the connections he had in town seemed to revolve around the gain that could be achieved from them. Tonight, he saw strong connections based on community, lifelong friendships, and family.
Perhaps he just missed family. Although he lived with his uncle, that family connection was tenuous at best, based on financial need – again, a connection centered on the benefits that could be achieved through it. James’ father Christopher was the youngest of six children, and he broke with the family when he married James’ mother. The young couple went to Scotland and lived comfortably enough, even with a family that grew to seven, until the untimely death of James’ father. Without his income or family support, their comforts dwindled along with their social standing – the two being as closely interconnected in Glasgow as in London. James’ mother, Annabelle, was forced to make inquiries with Lord Telford, Christopher’s eldest brother and James’ uncle. Sixteen years Christopher’s elder and never married, Ian had done quite well for himself and amassed a considerable fortune. For whatever reason, he had acquiesced and agreed to let James come and live with him, to pay for his education and house and feed him during that time. As grateful as he was, James knew that his uncle acted out of duty, not out of love.
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