Dahlia's Music

by Caitlyn Quirk

  All three of the Earl’s guests looked up at this announcement. “Really?” Lord Telford’s interest was piqued.

  “Absolutely,” said the Earl confidently. “I’m on the board of directors for several of the railroad companies. I’m probably only one of a very few in the county that knows of the extent of his investments. Very private man is Peter Talbot. Always was, but especially so after his wife’s death.”

  “How did she die?” asked Miss McElroy.

  The Earl shook his head. “An accident, apparently. But there’s something amiss with that tragedy. She was found at the bottom of the ravine that divides the Talbot and Standford estates, and it was assumed that she slipped and fell. The children all think she died of a fever, though. Never could figure out why there were different accounts. One of the Roma said they had seen her with a man near the cliff overlooking the ravine on the day she died.”

  “Did they think her reputation was in question and that was the reason for the children being told a story?”

  The Earl shook his head. “I knew Penelope Talbot. Not a finer woman in the county. No, nobody who knew her could believe she would be unfaithful to her husband – not out of duty, but out of love.” He paused as he pictured the woman in his mind and conjured memories of her beauty and kindness. He remembered his guests and looked up at them. “No, the rumors were that she may have been pushed.”

  Miss McElroy gasped. “Pushed? By whom? And why?”

  “That’s the mystery of it. Nobody could think of any reason that anyone would want to harm – let alone kill – Penny Talbot. Everyone respected her and her husband too much to ask the truth, especially when Peter was saying something different to his children. We all saw his grief and it wasn’t the angry grief of a man that had been cuckolded by his wife. He raised no inquiry with the authorities, so we all just mourned the fact she was gone, regardless of the circumstances. Even Lady Sweet couldn’t shed any light on the matter when I asked her at the time. They were best friends and I couldn’t detect anything in her manner following the funeral that would indicate Penny had shared anything with her she may not have shared with her husband to explain her death.”

  “How awful for those poor children!” said Miss McElroy. “Especially Dahlia.”

  James, too, felt again the pain of losing a parent that he knew Dahlia shared, a hurt that was pushed deep down, only to surface like a wound that never really healed.

  “Well, at least the children will be financially sound,” said Lord Telford, tactlessly.

  Humph. “A conclusion only a bachelor could derive,” said Miss McElroy.

  “We are all here present unmarried,” countered Lord Telford.

  “Unmarried at present,” Miss McElroy corrected. “I’m still trying!” She laughed. “You had best worry about me trying to lure you in for your purse with my voice, Lord Telford, and leave the talented young Miss Talbot out of it!”

  Everyone laughed and the conversation turned to the practical matter of the departure of the Earl’s guests.

  To Lord Telford’s surprise, James said, “Miss McElroy, if we are all returning to London, will you not join us for the trip?” He turned to Lord Telford. “Would that not be the chivalrous thing to do, Uncle?”

  Put in such a way, he could not now say no. He therefore replied quite pleasantly that he would be delighted to have her accompany them – while shooting his nephew a dangerous look.

  Miss McElroy caught the look between the men and laughed her deep, mellifluous laugh. “Oh, but I do appreciate chivalry. You are your uncle’s heir, are you not?” she said to James.

  “Not yet,” said his uncle under his breath.

  “Oh, do be careful Lord Telford!” said Miss McElroy. “I was about to transfer my affections to your handsome young nephew. For I do actually prefer younger men, but if you withhold his inheritance I shall be forced to refocus my attentions on you!” she threatened, jokingly. “The depth of your pocketbook only increases the depth of my love for you!”

  Miss McElroy winked at James while his uncle stood there, flustered. James smiled, trying to hold back his laughter. He had never seen anyone manipulate his uncle the way this woman did, and he liked her all the more for it.

  They departed the Bathurst estate just past noon and were safely aboard the train from Cirencester to London by mid-afternoon. Lord Telford had picked up a newspaper, presumably to put a physical barrier between himself and the vivacious Miss McElroy who sat across from him. This left James and the singer to converse about everything and nothing to pass the time. Before long, his uncle’s paper lowered and Lord Telford’s head bobbed with the motion of the train as he dozed.

  Glad of the opportunity to have a pseudo-private conversation with Miss McElroy, James said “Do you have any plans to perform again with Miss Talbot?”

  She raised her eyebrows, not at all deceived by his casual attitude. “Have an interest in her coming to London, do you, Mr. Kent?”

  Damn the woman for being so astute, or himself for underestimating her. “Possibly,” was all he said.

  “Uh huh,” she replied. “A bit young for you, isn’t she?”

  “Did you not just say you preferred younger men?” he countered.

  “Well,” she waved a hand dismissively and laughed. “Anyone older than me has one foot in the grave.”

  “Yes,” answered James truthfully. “She is very young. I cannot account for my interest in her, to be truthful,” he said since he guessed there was no use trying to lie to this woman. He told her briefly of his first encounter with Dahlia several weeks ago in London and how he was compelled to see her performances again and again.

  “But you are not interested in her just for her singing,” stated Miss McElroy.

  “No, she is very peculiar,” said James, frowning as he thought about it. “She is unlike any other girl I’ve ever met.”

  Miss McElroy harrumphed. “Probably from being raised like a sixth brother. She has been taught to think and react like a man. The feminine side of her comes out when she sings, giving us a glance of the woman she will become. That is intriguing to you, I think.”

  “Perhaps,” mused James.

  “It’s not easy to be a woman who is as strong in education and character as a man. Those women are intriguing, but they are also harder to love, you know.”

  James looked at her, “You know this from experience?”

  The singer merely smiled at him. “I do believe Miss Talbot would benefit from female company and guidance, not to mention the assistance I could provide her in terms of her singing. An invitation could be arranged,” she said, coming back to James’ original question. “I will write to her. And now that we are acquaintances, you must call on me in London.” He smiled at Miss McElroy, confident he had found a supporter – and another conduit to Dahlia.

  Chapter 16

  Christmas week was a blur of delights for Dahlia. The night of the ball, Dahlia stayed with the Sweets until mid-morning the following day. To her surprise, Lady Sweet sent Matilda, the maid who had done her hair for the ball, with her. It had been agreed to by Peter Talbot – at the insistence of Lady Sweet – that the time had come for Dahlia to have her own maid to help her dress and be fashionable as she was now at an age when this was important. Sharon was tasked with finding a suitable lady’s maid for Dahlia, and Peter would assume her salary and board. With the success of the young maid the previous evening, Dahlia was most enthusiastic about this gift. Sharon hoped she could also serve as a friend of sorts to Dahlia, who was the sole female residing full time at Talbot Hall.

  Since Dahlia had ridden over to the Sweets on horseback, Sir Randal ordered the carriage for her and Matilda, who were tucked in with armfuls of presents gaily wrapped for the entire Talbot clan. The girls set off amidst Christmas wishes, Dahlia’s horse tied to the back of the carriage.

  Once home, Dahlia gave Matilda a tour of Talbot Hall and did her best to see she got settled in. Then, there were the family’s preparatio
ns for Christmas, everyone running around with gifts, wrappings, and decorations. Each of the children still had their chores as well, since they were a considerable part of the staff that managed the estate. Matilda scolded her for going out to the barn to feed the horses without her gloves.

  “Your hands must always be clean and manicured to show everyone you are a lady!” she had said very seriously.

  “Matilda, I’m not a lady yet.”

  “You will be whether you like it or not, Miss Dahlia, and I’m here to ensure your hands say you are!”

  Despite her protestations as to Dahlia’s hands, work clothes, and constantly dirt-ridden shoes, Matilda was a welcome addition to the household. The brothers teased her mercilessly as they felt this was her initiation into the household. She fared it well, having grown up with three brothers of her own in Ireland.

  It was Steven who first started calling her Matty and, since she did not object, soon everyone called her by this nickname. Though not much older than Mark, she had a mothering nature and started to dote on all the Talbots, not just Dahlia. She mended shirts and reattached buttons, smoothed down upturned collars, and was constantly readjusting Squire Talbot’s cravat before he went out.

  Dahlia was especially pleased to have another girl to talk to, and they would stay up after Dahlia got ready for bed and chat. Matilda filled a lonely spot in Dahlia’s daily life that she had not known existed.

  It was a happy time for Dahlia and, with Matilda’s help, she had never looked better. The Sweets came over for Christmas dinner, then the Talbots went to the Parkinson’s the following evening.

  “What about the fourth Quartermaster?” asked Matilda, having been told of the layout of the properties.

  “The Standfords don’t entertain much,” replied Dahlia, who was glad of it given her discomfort with the southeastern Quartermaster and her dislike of his son. “Mr. Standford is a widower and only has the one son, Edward. His sister lives with them, but she’s a mousy thing who never says much.” She didn’t share with the maid that she thought his sister was afraid of him, but she had seen over the years how she cowered slightly in his presence, especially when he raised his voice – even if it was not at her.

  “All the Quartermasters sponsor the New Year’s Eve Ball in Cirencester’s Assembly Hall, though,” she continued. “So we shall have to see them there.”

  The rest of the week leading up to the ball was hectic with all the comings and goings. On New Year’s Eve day, she received a letter from Miss McElroy, who wrote the way she spoke and had Dahlia laughing out loud. She read parts of it to her family and interjected explanations for Matilda’s benefit as she had not met the singer.

  Her letter conveyed that she had seen Mr. Kent since leaving Cirencester, and he sent his regards to Dahlia and her family.

  When she read this aloud, her brother Mark looked to Leland and said, “We need to write to him next week and let him know we will be arriving on the thirtieth.” That had been the date established for the boys to go to London. This marred Dahlia’s delight at the letter and its tidings from James. The house would never be the same again once Mark and Leland left. Mark would not be back for some time as he was going into the military and did not yet know where he would be stationed. Leland would certainly be back for visits, but following his theological studies, he, too, would be given a parish and set up residence elsewhere. Dahlia had known about this for some time, but it was always something that seemed very far in the future. Now, it was almost upon them.

  “What else does the letter say?” asked Steven, jolting Dahlia out of her reverie.

  “Eh…” she said scanning it. “Oh, she invites me to London, Papa, to perform with her at the Valentine’s Day Ball. She says I can stay with her for a week before she goes to France. May I go?”

  “Of course, if you like. See if Lady Sweet will accompany you.”

  “Thank you, Father!” Dahlia said, smiling at him. “And Matty must go too!”

  Her father laughed. “Before you invite half the county, be sure to write back to Miss McElroy and tell her you are bringing a contingent.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Have you been to London?” she asked the maid.

  “No, miss.” Her face looked excited, however, at the prospect.

  Dahlia clapped her hands. “Oh, this will be such fun!”

  Chapter 17

  1875

  In the early hours of that New Year’s Day, Dahlia lay in bed, unable to sleep. The Quartermasters’ Ball had been as diverting as it always was, but she had been anxious. The reasons she should feel anxious were what kept her awake despite the late hour. The Gaggle had been more obnoxious than usual, owing to all the questions regarding James Kent and Josephine McElroy. It wasn’t so much that she minded answering their questions, but they reminded her acutely that he wasn’t there. She half expected him to turn up at any moment during the evening since he had a way of doing that. But he had not, and she supposed she was disappointed by that. She also thought about the fact that this was most likely the last Quartermasters’ Ball with all the Talbots in attendance. Soon, Mark and Leland would be gone off to start their careers.

  In two weeks, she would turn fourteen. She was growing up just like her brothers. She had a lady’s maid now, and was, if reluctantly, part of the Gaggle of girls. She realized now what that meant. She really was leaving childhood and entering that stage of preparing for her adult life. She didn’t worry so much about a married life, to which all the other girls seemed to look forward with such anticipation, but what she would have to leave behind. She remembered Lady Sweet talking about giving up the training of her beloved horses, primarily because she did so wearing breeches. Silly that a teenage girl or woman couldn’t wear breeches if a female child could. What did society think – that her legs disappeared at a certain age? Why did they all of the sudden become obscene? She had a lot of questions and no answers that anyone seemed willing to give her beyond ‘it’s not proper’ or ‘it simply isn’t done.’

  In a little over month, she would be on her way to London again. Lady Sweet had agreed to go with her to London, pending Miss McElroy’s confirmation that the invitation be extended to include her. She wondered what the Valentine’s Day Ball would be like. She had never been to a ball in London and was sure it must be much more elegant than the affairs in Cirencester. She wondered what she would wear and reminded herself to ask her father if she could have a new dress made. Matty had mentioned how her dress tonight was a bit on the short side, and she had noted that it was a bit snug when she was dancing. Growing up happened regardless of whether or not one wanted it to.

  With her head full of things that had happened in the past year, and all that would happen in the New Year, Dahlia at last fell asleep, mentally exhausted.

  This was portending to be a year of significant change in her life.

  -----

  James was also thinking this was going to be a very good year indeed. The New Year’s Eve party he’d gone to at the house of one of the architecture professors had been fabulous. Everyone there had been young and single. No stodgy Uncle Ian and his cronies, only youthful beauty, energy, and recklessness. There was laughter, drinking, eating, dancing, and gambling – all elements of a great party. The evening had started out in the company of some of his classmates, and ended in the apartment of an actress named Daisy.

  The light was streaming in through the thin curtains and the room was chilly on his naked torso. He looked over at the sleeping body next to him. Bright red hair covered the pillow, but he couldn’t see the face. He drew down the coverlet to reveal a slender back, then lower still to see the sensuous curve of her buttocks. James smiled, remembering her enthusiasm hours before. He rolled over on top of her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. She murmured softly. He pulled her hair from her face and started kissing her neck. She raised a lazy hand to muss his hair as she started to wake. Her body did so before her mind and she shifted slightly to let James’ legs
fall between hers.

  A very good start to the year.

  Two hours later, sated and rested, James got dressed on the side of the bed. A hand rubbed his back and he turned around, buttoning his shirt. “Good morning, again.”

  “Good morning,” she said. “Where are you off to?”

  “Home.” To face the music, no doubt, he thought. He didn’t care what his uncle said, whatever it was would be worth it.

  “Will you come to see me at the theatre tomorrow night?”

  “If I can,” he said, pulling on his boots. He picked up his jacket and stood up to put it on. He leaned over to kiss her. “If I can.” He winked, smiled, and left.

  He walked through the deserted streets. Normally, they would have been crowded with people, but given the frivolities of the night before, and the fact all the shops were closed for the first day of the new year, he found himself quite alone.

  He entered the large brick town house of his uncle. The house was quiet and he made to go up the stairs when he heard his uncle’s voice from the parlor.

  “James!” He bellowed.

  James closed his eyes. Here it comes. He turned on the stairs and headed for the parlor. “Good morning, Uncle. Happy New Year,” he said.

  “Happy? For whom?” He glared at his nephew. “Once again you have been out all night. Have you no limits? No consideration for my reputation and good name?”

  “Uncle, your reputation and good name are safe, unless you decide to tell your friends I did not come home. Certainly none of them were with me last night.”

  “Don’t be insolent with me! I’ll remind you that you are only here as a favor to keep your mother and siblings out of the poor house!”