Dahlia's Music

by Caitlyn Quirk

  “That’s a grand idea,” he said quite pointedly at his sister. “Of course you should go to tea with Miss Dahlia. Edward will escort you over whenever it is convenient for Miss Dahlia.” Alyce looked at her brother in surprise.

  “Yes, er, when would it be convenient for you, Miss Talbot?” she stammered.

  Dahlia was surprised, too, not just by Mr. Standford’s insistence that she go, but by his suggestion that his son would also be coming with her. “Thursday, around two o’clock?”

  Alyce looked to her brother and, when he didn’t say anything, she said meekly, “Very good. Thursday then.”

  With that, Edward followed her into the carriage and it lurched forward. She turned to see Mr. Standford guiding his sister into the house with his hand on her elbow.

  She turned back to look at Edward, who was looking out the window. “You didn’t have to accompany me, I could have returned home alone,” she said.

  “It’s no bother,” he said without looking at her. The remainder of the trip home was spent in uncomfortable silence.

  That evening at dinner, her father asked how her visit went. She thought about her answer before giving it. She knew her father and Mr. Standford were considered friends and peers, so she did not wish to offend him by telling the absolute truth.

  “Well,” she began. “I had intended to try and establish some sort of acquaintance with Miss Standford. She was not a willing recipient of my intentions, I daresay. She hardly said two words together. Has she always been so quiet?”

  “For as long as I have known her, she has appeared to be a very unhappy woman. When they first came to Cirencester, your mother, too, tried to be friends with her. She would come over with some frequency, with Edward so he could play with your brothers. Your mother felt sorry for her. I believe she thought she was making some progress with the woman before…” Her father left the sentence unfinished, but Dahlia knew it ended with ‘before your mother died.’

  “One never knows the reasons behind such inclinations. It was a good deed you did, going to visit her. Even if she did not state it, I’m sure she was glad of it,” her father smiled at her.

  “Well, as they say, no good deed goes unpunished. Since I didn’t have any luck talking with her privately, I invited her one last time to tea. She was about to refuse, but Mr. Standford insisted she accept – and have Edward escort her here!”

  Her father laughed. “Still don’t like young Edward?”

  “Not much to like there. He was a bully growing up and now he is as interesting and talkative as a tree!”

  “And you feel slighted that he does not converse with you and praise your talents and beauty?”

  “Hardly! But he is as fit for good company as his poor aunt. The two of them are completely overshadowed by Mr. Standford.”

  “I’ve noticed the same difference in him, Father,” said Tom. “He is quite withdrawn these days. But since we were never close friends, I don’t know the cause.”

  “I heard from Joe Granby last week that his father was arranging a marriage for him,” offered Steven, who broke into a smile. “I’d be depressed too if I had a father like his arranging my marriage! Imagine the girl he would choose!” he laughed.

  “Humph,” her father grunted. “Hadn’t heard anything of the sort from William. I know he’s had some financial missteps recently. Perhaps he is looking for a well-dowried girl for Edward.”

  “Funny you should mention that, Father,” said Dahlia, remembering Mr. Standford’s question to her. “He asked me about your investments.”

  Peter Talbot’s hand stopped mid-way between his plate and his mouth. “And what did you tell him?” he asked carefully, finally bringing his fork to his mouth.

  “Nothing, of course. I said you hardly consulted me in such matters.”

  “Humph,” was all her father replied.

  Dahlia turned to her brothers. “You will help me on Thursday, won’t you? I’d very much like to have a private chat with Miss Standford and I can’t do that with Edward lurking about in his stupid way. You will take him somewhere and keep him occupied for a while, won’t you?”

  Groans were their first response. Then, Steven said, “Alright, Dahlia. But much as you’d like, we’ll not take him up to the ravine and throw him over the edge. Bit much of a punishment just for being a boring sod.”

  Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Just keep him a way for an hour or so.”

  Her brothers were as good as their word – even better. When Miss Standford and Edward arrived, each of them made a point to be quite effuse in their greetings to Miss Standford without being obvious. Even her father came in from his study to say it had been far too long since she had graced them with her presence and thanked her for the compliment of calling.

  Dahlia beamed at her men. Let the woman know what real gentlemen were like. Michael took her wrap and handed it to Glenda, complimenting Miss Standford on her hat. Dahlia wondered where on earth they had learned such manners when they didn’t have anyone but her to practice them on at home. Then he and Steven asked Edward to join them in the library for a game of chess.

  Dahlia took Miss Standford to the parlor at the opposite side of the entrance. Glenda brought tea and biscuits and left the women alone to chat by the fire.

  “My father was telling me you were friends with my mother,” Dahlia began.

  This seemed to take Alyce by surprise. “Your mother was a very kind woman, much like Edward’s mother,” she said quietly.

  “Well, I know from being here with six men – well four now that Mark and Leland have gone off – what a bore men can be! You must feel the same with just Mr. Standford and Edward to keep you company.”

  Alyce looked away at the word ‘company,’ but Dahlia pressed on. “I apologize if I haven’t been as good a neighbor as my mother. I’m afraid I was raised like a sixth brother after my mother’s passing. And I do love the horses so! But now that I am getting older, Lady Sweet has been impressing upon me the need to act more like a lady and less like a stable hand!”

  Alyce nodded slightly, but said nothing.

  “I’d like very much to see you more often, Miss Standford. I’m sure there is much you could teach me. I know Lady Sweet’s home is quite twice as far as Talbot Hall from you, but we could all meet here once in a while for tea. Would you like that?”

  “I, yes,” said Alyce tentatively. Dahlia took that as justification to press on.

  “Certainly Edward is grown now and will soon be finding a wife and going off to Lord knows where. No doubt you’ll want friends of your own to keep you company when he does.”

  As if Edward ever gave me company, thought Alyce. “Yes, I suppose,” was all she said.

  “What are your hobbies, Miss Standford?”

  “Hobbies?”

  “Yes, what do you like to do to pass the time? Do you cross-stitch? Knit? Paint?”

  Alyce was scrambling to come up with an answer. ‘I cower in my room and wish I had never been born,’ was not something most people identified as a hobby. “I sew my own clothes,” she said.

  Dahlia did not want to say they looked it. “Oh, then you will want to borrow some of the new dress patterns I just brought back from London.” Alyce was not in the habit of contradicting people, so she just watched as Dahlia went to a cabinet and took out a thick folder of papers.

  She handed it to Alyce, who said simply, “Thank you.”

  “Sleeves are to be a bit shorter this year,” said Dahlia, pleased that she, of all people, could give fashion tips. “About here,” she indicated just below the elbow. Alyce hoped that all the patterns weren’t of the new style. They would never cover her bruises. Maybe that was a good thing. William rarely hit her where the marks would show. Too bad Dahlia didn’t bring patterns of sea bathing costumes. Despite herself, the thought of trying to wear less clothing so that William would have less target space was so ludicrous – and pitiful – it made Alyce laugh.

  Dahlia looked at her. “There!” she
exclaimed. “You have music, too!”

  “Music?”

  “Yes. I knew you must, but it didn’t pop into my head until I heard you laugh! Isn’t that peculiar…”

  “Forgive me, Miss Talbot, but what are you talking about?”

  Dahlia told her of the music she heard in her head, the tunes that came to her for particular people, and how she saw melodies in nature, scenery, and just about anything else.

  “What…what does my music sound like?” asked Alyce, curious.

  Dahlia smiled and went to the piano. “It’s sort of like a music box sound,” she said, then played a delicate little tune very high on the register.

  Dahlia moved her hands towards the opposite end of the keyboard. “This,” she said, starting to play, “is Vicar Jacobs.”

  Alyce laughed. “That is just like him!”

  “Here are my brothers,” Dahlia said, doing a musical collage of their tunes.

  “So everyone has a song?”

  “Well, no, not everyone, but most people of my acquaintance,” Dahlia admitted, returning to sit with Alyce.

  “That’s…very unusual.”

  “So I’ve been told. But I can’t help it. It’s been that way since I was a little girl. I even remember my mother’s song.”

  Alyce looked up sharply at mention of Dahlia’s mother. “You must have been very young.”

  “Yes. Sometimes, I don’t remember what she looked like without seeing at her portrait. But I never forget her song – it’s always with me, here,” she said, tapping her temple. “I never forget a song.” She saw she had made Alyce get very quiet again. “That means I will never forget yours.”

  Alyce smiled. “That’s nice to hear. I’m glad someone will remember me.”

  “Of course you’ll be remembered,” Dahlia said, matter of factly.

  The two women talked for another hour before Edward reappeared and told his aunt that they should be returning home.

  Later that evening, Dahlia’s father asked how the visit had gone. She admitted it was difficult to draw anything out of the woman. Michael admitted Edward couldn’t play chess.

  The Standford conversation went very differently. Edward’s father was so displeased that Edward did not stay with Dahlia and his aunt that he backhanded his son across the face.

  “We’ve talked about this!” He growled between clinched teeth. “How are you ever going to get anywhere with her if you don’t even talk to her?”

  “And you!” He shouted, turning to Alyce. “You are nothing more than an excuse for Edward to see the Talbot girl.”

  “But why should…ow!” William’s fingers dug into Alyce’s wrists as he pulled her out of her seat.

  “Because I want Edward to marry Dahlia. If he doesn’t, it is likely I will lose the estate. You’ll do everything you can to make sure this happens. If you don’t, the first expense I’ll do away with is you.” He pushed her away and she fell on the floor, hard. “Now get out of my sight!”

  Alyce scrambled up, glad she hadn’t received worse. She hurried upstairs to her room. She locked the door behind her and sat down on her bed, rubbing her wrists. She rarely understood her brother’s rages, but tonight he had astounded her. Why was he going to lose the estate and how could Edward’s marrying Dahlia possibly save it in time? She was only fourteen. Her father would never consent to her marriage before she came of age…unless… No. He would never go that far. But she knew he could. Alyce lay on the bed, unable to think about it any further. She curled up into a ball, trying to focus on the fact that Dahlia had actually made her laugh today, and counting how many years it had been since she last did that.

  Chapter 27

  Winter seemed to drag on and on. Dahlia’s visits with Lady Sweet were far too few and the next two visits with Alyce were far too many. Sharon was pleased that Dahlia was expanding her social network to include more women in the county, but she wasn’t convinced that her choice of Alyce Standford would prove a beneficial acquaintance. She didn’t tell Dahlia that, however. Best the past was left in the past. She did agree to a tea at Talbot Hall where the three women would meet. Sharon was very surprised that Alyce was accepting the invitations Dahlia sent, and she did share that with her young friend.

  “Not that it is not surprising that anyone would accept an invitation from you, my dear,” Sharon said warmly. “But, it does surprise me that Alyce would accept any social invitation. With the exception of the Quartermasters’ Ball, when is the last time you saw her at any gathering outside of church?”

  Dahlia tried to recall such an occasion, but could not. “Don’t you think perhaps it is because no one extends any invitations?”

  “Partly. But that is because when they did, years ago, she always refused them. I think people simply stopped bothering to invite her.”

  Dahlia broached a subject she knew was a bit dangerous. “I have heard that Mr. Standford does not allow her to go out.”

  Sharon looked up from her tea. “There are some men who do not like their lady folk to be very sociable,” she said carefully.

  “Why not?”

  “Oh, for many reasons. Very strict morals, for example.”

  Dahlia snorted. “I haven’t seen those as close friends of Mr. Standford.”

  “Dahlia!”

  “Sorry,” she said contritely. “I just mean that I’ve seen him be very mean and he certainly raised a bully of a son so I don’t know how that can be the result of high morals.”

  “How do you find Miss Standford?” asked Sharon, changing the subject slightly.

  “You really will think me awful if I tell you the truth.”

  Sharon raised her eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “Well, I find our visits very tedious. Talking to her is like trying to get a bone away from a dog! She’s all closed up, even when talking about nothing – like the weather. Sometimes it’s almost like she is afraid to speak. I’ve only visited with her twice, but both times I kept running out of topics to broach with her. I don’t know what she does over there, but she doesn’t seem to have many hobbies. She doesn’t cross-stitch, or knit, or garden. She doesn’t read much, apparently.”

  “So why do you insist on trying to draw her out?”

  “I feel sorry for her, I guess. When I think of you and Miss McElroy and how alive you are, how witty, and how much fun we have together, I find it hard to imagine anyone spending their entire life in a dreary house. She’s likely much younger than Miss McElroy, but she seems very much older indeed.” Dahlia poked her finger in her tea, then circled the rim of her tea cup with it.

  Sharon noted the childish attempt to make the tea cup whistle. There was something Dahlia wasn’t saying. “Why else?”

  “Well, it occurred to me in London that you seemed to be having a very good time with Miss McElroy. I thought maybe…well, it can’t be much fun for you to socialize with me all the time, given how young I am. I just thought that maybe you would appreciate having someone to socialize with that was closer to your age. There’s no one else but Miss Standford without going to town or over the mountain to the Parkinson’s, and Mrs. Parkinson is more like a grandmother.”

  Sharon considered this, touched by the girl’s concern. “Dahlia, to your first point, I do not socialize with you. You are like family to me. It has never been, nor will it ever be, a burden to spend time with you!” She put her hand over Dahlia’s. “Are we clear on that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now to your second point, I’ve no doubt both Miss Standford and I will be better for having renewed our acquaintance, but I do not have to have a large group of friends. I knew living in the country would be a bit isolating when I married Randal, and I am perfectly content with my situation. He is my greatest friend in life, and we have little Randy. I have you, who I couldn’t love any more if you were my own daughter.” She saw Dahlia smile at this.

  “As for London, that is a very different life that was loads of fun! But good Lord, if I had to keep up Josephine’s
social schedule on a regular basis, I’d drop from fatigue after a month!”

  Dahlia laughed. “I thought I was the only one who was tired every afternoon because I was the youngest!”

  “No,” Sharon corrected. “I was down the hall taking a nap whenever I could right along with you!”

  They both laughed together, but then Dahlia got serious again. “Oh dear.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve invited Miss McElroy to visit here later in the spring. Perhaps she will find society here very dull.”

  “I doubt it. She will probably enjoy the change of pace. Don’t forget that she grew up in the country. In Scotland no less, where I daresay they still paint their faces blue!” This made Dahlia laugh again. It also made her think of James Kent, whose mother still lived in Scotland. She pushed aside thoughts of him.

  “So you’ll come to tea with Miss Standford – this once at least?”

  “Of course, I will.”

  In the end, Dahlia was very glad to have Lady Sweet present during Miss Standford’s next visit. Edward came with her – and insisted on staying! Dahlia was quite sure she would not have handled the situation quite as smoothly as Lady Sweet did. She supposed because of her age and status she was able to deflect his pitiful claims to want to take tea with the ladies.

  “Nonsense,” Sharon said easily. “Go find Dahlia’s brothers or take a turn in the library. This is strictly ladies’ talk. How are we possibly to talk about men when a man is present?” With that she closed the parlor doors, with him on the outside.

  Sharon didn’t have much more success with Miss Standford, however, than Dahlia, but at least with the two of them, they were able to keep the conversation going. Alyce seemed even more nervous than usual and after only about an hour, stood up and said she must be going. Dahlia noticed that Lady Sweet did not protest too much. Instead, she got up and told the woman how delightful it was to see her again, and hoped she would visit the Sweets very soon.

  When they opened the parlor doors, Edward was sitting in the foyer and Dahlia wondered whether he had been there the entire time. The Standfords took their leave, and Dahlia and Lady Sweet returned to the parlor.