by Dawn Brower
She was quiet while Patricia unbuttoned the dress she was wearing and helped her step out of it, then took off her shirtwaist to change into the new one. The green dress buttoned in the front so she really didn’t need Patricia’s help to put it on but she had a had a hard time getting the buttons on her boots done up alone so she sat at the dressing table while Patricia did it for her.
“You look lovely, ma’am. Shall I fetch you a hat?”
“There’s a green one that matches this in the closet,” Cordelia said. “It has pink roses around the brim.” Patricia nodded and went back into the closet a third time while Cordelia selected a hatpin, remembering how her hat had fallen off the day before. It brought back memories of Victor’s office and she smiled. Yes, she wanted to see him again.
Once she was dressed, she sent Patricia down to get the carriage and driver while she searched for a small box to put her grandmother’s necklace in. She found a velvet one that contained a string of pearls that had been given to her as a wedding gift and took out the pearls, then dropped them into the jewelry box. She tucked the box into her pocketbook and went to the front door where the driver was waiting for her.
“Ready when you are, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She turned to Patricia. “Please tidy up my clothes while I’m out. See if you can get the dirt out of the dress I wore the other day. If you have trouble, please ask for help. But you don’t have to dust my room or arrange my sheets. Leave that to the housemaid.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Patricia went back upstairs while the driver opened the front door.
“Have you already said goodbye to Lord Whittemore?” His words made Cordelia’s jaw clench and she shook her head.
“He’s busy. I don’t wish to disturb him.” She went down the stairs and got into the carriage with the driver’s help, then settled into her seat as he climbed aboard.
The ride to town was short and her driver helped her out of the carriage in front of the watchmaker’s shop. She went inside and found herself surrounded by clocks of all sorts. They were all ticking at once and while it was a little unsettling at first she supposed she could see how it would be comforting after a while.
“Lady Whittemore,” a voice said from the door, and Cordelia jumped a little. She hadn’t even heard the door open. When she turned and saw Victor standing there with a clock in his hands, her face turned red immediately. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“My lady’s maid told me this gentleman could repair some jewelry for me,” she said, her eyes moving over his face. “What are you doing here?”
“My clock fell off the wall of my office and one of the hands broke off.” He held up the clock. “I was cursing the thing but now I’m glad it fell when it did. Otherwise I might not have gotten to see you.” He came toward her and her heart sped up. Surely he wouldn’t kiss her right there where the watchmaker could walk in and see them. He was coming closer, though, and Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been wanting to see you.” Before Cordelia could reply, a small round man came out from behind a curtain over a door that led to a back room.
“Oh, good afternoon,” he said. “So sorry to make you wait, I didn’t know anyone was out here. I really should put that bell back on the door.” He looked at Victor’s clock and nodded. “I can see what the trouble is there, Mr. Pembroke. Let me take that off your hands so you don’t have to carry it around.” He went to Victor and relieved him of his clock, which he set on a table behind the counter, then turned to Cordelia. “I don’t believe we’ve met, young lady. How may I assist you?”
“I’m Lady Cordelia Whittemore,” she said with a smile. “I was told you could repair a piece of jewelry for me?”
“Absolutely,” the watchmaker said. “For politeness’ sake, I’m Jefferson Russell. It’s good to meet you, Lady Whittemore. What type of jewelry is it?”
“It’s a necklace,” Cordelia said, opening her pocketbook to take out the box. “It belonged to my grandmother. My sister found it a few days ago and the clasp is broken.” She opened the box and showed him the necklace. “It’s also a bit dirty.”
“That’s gorgeous,” Victor commented, looking over her shoulder. “It’s probably worth a good deal if those are real stones.”
“I can clean it up and fix that clasp for you easily,” Mr. Russell said. “I also see a couple of loose prongs on one of the stones and that flower on the end is drooping. I can fix those as well.” He looked up at her. “When were you looking to have this back?”
“Take your time,” Cordelia said. “I don’t have any plans to wear it anytime soon. I just want it cleaned and fixed properly. It means a lot to me as my grandmother is no longer with us.”
“Of course, madam. Shall we say a week? I can bring it to your estate if it’s too much trouble for you to come down here.” He closed the box and took it from Cordelia. “I’ll write you up a receipt. You can rest assured that it will be safe here with me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Russell. It won’t be necessary for you to bring it to the estate, I’ll be happy to come get it myself. It’s nice to get out for a while.” She turned to Victor as Mr. Russell searched for his receipt book. “Any news?”
“Not yet. I’m waiting for a letter from my friend.” He sighed. “It would be so much easier if there was a telephone in this damn town.”
“Here you are, Lady Whittemore,” Mr. Russell said, handing her a slip of paper. “I’ll have it ready for you next Thursday.” Cordelia took the receipt from him and tucked it into her pocketbook. She started to take out her wallet and he put up a hand. “There’s no need for that right away. You can pay me when the job’s done.”
“Thank you,” Cordelia said, closing her pocketbook. “I certainly do appreciate that.” She looked at Victor, wishing that the watchmaker would go back into the back room and leave them alone together. She wasn’t sure how much good it would do but she couldn’t very well tell him he’d been on her mind with someone else in the room. “I look forward to hearing from you soon, Mr. Pembroke.”
“Where are you off to next?” Victor opened the door for her and she looked down the street. It wasn’t often she came to town so she wasn’t exactly sure what was there apart from a bookstore, the watchmaker, and Victor’s office. Mrs. Richmond always told her that going into town was the job of the servants, so she had most things delivered to her.
“I was going back home, I suppose. Unless you have something more interesting to show me.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she realized how they sounded and she blushed as Victor raised an eyebrow at her. “I meant any stores I should know about!”
“There’s a music store but I doubt there’s anything in there that would be worth your time. Though there is a gentleman there who teaches composition. You might want to speak to him and see what he has to say.” They stepped out onto the sidewalk and Cordelia waved at her driver, who was about to get off the carriage.
“I’m going to the music store,” she said. “You can wait for me here or meet me down there, whichever is easier for you.” The driver nodded and relaxed on the seat, and Cordelia turned to Victor. “All right, show me this music store.”
Chapter 9
“Composition all comes from the mathematics,” the young man who had introduced himself as Maurice DuVerne said. He was French but his accent wasn’t overwhelming and his English was excellent, which meant Cordelia wasn’t distracted by trying to figure out what he was saying. “I’m certain they educated you in the mathematics in school.”
“Oh yes,” Cordelia said. “I was actually quite good at arithmetic.”
“That will help you a great deal.” He drew an oval on one of the blank bars on the sheets he’d brought with him. “You already know the whole note, yes? Also the quarter and eighth notes?” Cordelia nodded and he smiled. “Good, very good. I shall teach you the other notes such as the sixteenth and thirty-second and how to translate the music in your mind onto the paper.”
&
nbsp; “This is very interesting,” Cordelia said. “I will admit to having melodies in my head that I’ve made up sometimes but how can you teach me how to write them down?”
“You shall sing them for me and I shall show you how to write them,” Maurice said grandly. “Soon you will not even need my help. Will you play for me? I would like to hear the level of music you are on at the moment.”
“Of course,” Cordelia said, standing up from the table they had been sitting at in the conservatory. “Not to be rude but how much will your services cost? I’m sure we can pay for it but I’d like to know so I can inform my husband.”
“Do not even concern yourself with that,” Maurice said as she led him to the piano. “Monsieur Pembroke has already assured me he will be covering my full fee.”
“He what?” Cordelia’s eyes widened. “He most certainly will not! We shall pay you properly ourselves. My goodness.” She turned away from Maurice, not knowing how long she could keep herself from grinning. Victor wanted to pay for her composition lessons. She couldn’t believe he would make such an offer.
“It is too late, madame. He has already paid me in advance.” Cordelia stared at him with her mouth open and Maurice shrugged. “He said he enjoys the music you play a great deal and wanted to make sure you learned as much as possible.” He smiled. “You have what we call en Francais a patron.”
“I never asked him to do that,” Cordelia said, putting her fingers on the keys. Inside she was jumping for joy. Even with everything else he was doing for her, Victor had paid for her lessons and it made her ecstatic. She wished she could go down to his office at that moment and hug him. “Do you care what I play?”
“Whatever you wish, madame.”
Without so much as a glance at the sheet music, Cordelia played one of her favorite pieces for Maurice, a quick and upbeat piece that made him nod his head as he listened. She saw the music in her head as she played and the familiar feeling of freedom came over her. It felt good to play and even better to know how much Victor cared for her.
“Very nice, madame, very nice. Have you ever played a piece for four hands?” Maurice smiled at her and she shook her head.
“You mean two people playing at the same time? Goodness, no. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible.” She was already learning so much from this young man, she could hardly believe it. It seemed there was more to music than just playing alone in the conservatory and she wanted to know more and more.
“I brought some music with me,” he said, going to the bag he had brought along. “Would you like to try a piece with me?” He took out a book of sheet music and Cordelia nodded eagerly.
“Oh absolutely! It sounds like it would be quite fun.”
“It certainly is.” Maurice brought the book over and opened it on the music stand. The music looked more complex than anything she’d played before and he pointed to one set of notes. “This is the section you play. This is the section I will play. The hardest part of playing the piece like this is focusing on your own set of notes. Are you ready?”
“I suppose I am,” Cordelia said uncertainly. Maurice gave her an encouraging smile.
“You will do fine. I will count us off. Un, deux, trois, quatre, go!” He began playing at the same time she did and Cordelia’s eyes moved over the music. It was easy enough to follow her half but some of it caused her to reach over and around Maurice and she bumped elbows with him a few times. It wasn’t frustrating, though, it was fun and she found herself laughing as she played. Maurice was laughing a fair amount as well and there were more than a few mistakes and missed notes but she was having a good time.
“Excuse me,” a voice at the conservatory door said, and Cordelia stopped playing and turned to see Mrs. Richmond standing in the doorway. She had her usual disapproving look on her face and for the first time Cordelia wondered if there was any other look she was capable of. She wasn’t doing anything that could be construed as improper, yet there the old woman was. “There’s a delivery for you.”
“A delivery?” Cordelia stood up and looked curiously at Mrs. Richmond. “I’m not expecting anything at the moment, perhaps it’s for Arthur.”
“It’s a gentleman who asked for you specifically,” Mrs. Richmond said. “He says he has your grandmother’s necklace.”
“Ah! Yes, that must be Mr. Russell.” She turned to Maurice. “Thank you for the lesson, Monsieur. Shall we meet again at the same time next week?”
“Oui, that would be best. I shall leave some blank paper for you. Try copying down some of your favorite music so that you will learn how to write notes properly. The treble clef gives many people trouble.” Maurice collected his satchel and put it over his arm.
“Oh, don’t forget your music!” Cordelia picked up the sheet music he’d set on the piano and he shook his head.
“Please keep it,” he said. “Study your part and we shall try playing again at our next lesson. I would like you to learn to play this way so you will know how to write it as well.”
“Let me walk you to the door,” Cordelia said, motioning to the conservatory door. Mrs. Richmond walked behind them, keeping an eye on Cordelia as firmly as if she was a teenager again. She’d always thought of it as just a fact of life but for some reason it was starting to get on her nerves. She wasn’t a schoolgirl to be minded anymore, she was a woman, grown and married.
At the front door, Mr. Russell was standing just inside the hallway with a box in his hands. When he saw Cordelia approaching, he smiled. Cordelia nodded to him, then opened the door for Maurice.
“Thank you again, Monsieur. I shall see you next Wednesday.” Once he was gone, she turned to Mr. Russell. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today, sir. I thought we had agreed on tomorrow.” She couldn’t help being a little disappointed. She hadn’t been into town since she’d dropped off the watch, so she hadn’t had a chance to see Victor either.
“I finished this morning and couldn’t wait for you to see it,” Mr. Russell said, handing her the box. “Besides, I needed to take a walk. If I don’t give these old legs a good stretch once in a while they start to ache.”
“You walked all the way out here? My goodness, please come sit down!” Cordelia led him into the sitting room and motioned to a chair. She looked at Mrs. Richardson. “Could you please have the maid bring him in something to drink?” Cordelia looked at her guest. “Would you care for some ginger beer? Our cook makes American-style lemonade as well, it’s quite refreshing.”
“American-style, you say? I don’t believe I’ve ever had that. Yes, I’ll try a glass.” As soon as Mrs. Richmond was gone he handed her the box. “Here you go, my dear. It turned out to be much more beautiful than I expected under that tarnish. Silver will do that, though.”
“It is a troublesome metal.” Cordelia opened the box and inhaled sharply. “Oh my, it’s beautiful, Mr. Russell. It looks just as I remember it from when I was a little girl.” She picked up the necklace, which now sparkled in the light. “Thank you so much.”
“It was no trouble at all,” he said. One of the serving maids came through the door of the sitting room with a tray, on which a single glass of lemonade sat. “Thank you,” Mr. Russell said, taking the glass. “I didn’t expect there to be quite so much lemon in it.” He took a sip, then smiled broadly. “Wonderful. It was certainly worth the trip out here.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Cordelia carefully put the necklace back in its box and got up from her chair. “If you’ll just wait here, I’ll get a cheque from my husband for you.”
“There’s no rush,” Mr. Russell said, shaking his head and taking another drink of his lemonade. “We can settle the account at the end of the month. I would like to see your gardens a bit more, though. My wife is trying to grow roses and they’re just not doing well.”
“Certainly,” Cordelia said. “I don’t see how our roses are going to help hers, but I’m glad to take you through the garden.”
“To be quite frank, I’d like to be able t
o tell her that it’s not the soil or the water she’s using, the problem is with her. She’s determined to start big and I think she just doesn’t have the skill for it yet.” Mr. Russell stood up and held up his glass. “Do you mind if I bring this along?”
“Not at all,” Cordelia replied. “I often like to have something cool to drink in the garden. Let’s go out the front door, there are some lovely pink roses right off the front walk.” She led the watchmaker to the door and he nodded.
“Yes, that’s what made me think to ask.”
“I’m glad you did.” Cordelia pulled the door open and found herself face to face with a deliveryman who had his hand raised to ring the bell. “Oh,” she said, surprised. “Hello! You must be here for my husband. If you step inside, someone will be with you in just a moment.”
“Actually, this package is for Lady Whittemore.” The deliveryman looked at her. “I take it that’s you, then?”
“It is,” she said, looking at the brown-wrapped package. “I didn’t order anything, though.”
“Perhaps it’s a present,” the deliveryman said impatiently. “Could you just take it, ma’am? I’ve got other packages to deliver.” Cordelia nodded and he thrust it into her arms. “There you are. Have a good day, ma’am.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Cordelia sighed and turned to Mr. Russell. “Do you mind waiting just a moment?” He shook his head and she smiled. “Thank you.”
She carried the package into the house, hoping to run into one of the staff, and by chance Patricia was the one coming down the stairs. Her eyes widened when she saw Cordelia carrying the package and she hurried down to take it from her.