A Duke for Lady Ellen

Chapter 13

The musicale had been planned for weeks, with Sophie demonstrating her talents with pieces by Mozart and Beethoven (naturally) as well as debuting a few of Ellen's poems that she had set to music and would sing—country ballads, she called them. The pianoforte had been tuned, the candles lighted, and the guests filtered into the music room, picking up programs and filling plates with light hors d' oeuvres. Sophie was practically bouncing with anxiety in between greeting the guests—not so much over forgetting the concertos, which she knew by heart, but over the songs she had composed with her sister. Ellen tried to calm her down and offered her a brandy, but Sophie refused. Ellen shrugged and when no one was looking, slugged back the brandy herself. Aside from her family, no one would know about her contributions to the evening's entertainment until they saw the program. In a way, she was debuting as a poet tonight. Excitement (as well as the brandy) brought color into Ellen's cheeks.

She had found a seat near the buffet, and was reading over the program when the Duke of Danbury sat beside her. He was dressed in a dark navy frock coat, with tan breeches, and a lightly striped satin waistcoat. His cravat was expertly tied and folded, and once again, she admired how handsome the Duke was. She tried not to notice how shapely his legs looked in the breeches, for that seemed indecent, but her overall impression was that he had dressed to impress anyone who looked at him. Of course, he had some nerve to sit next to her, and she would have said something, but causing a scene would only embarrass her and upset Sophie.

"How are you this evening, Lady Ellen?" He gave her a wide smile that reached his eyes, but which only served to disincline her towards him. How dare he speak to her as if they were friends!

"Fine."

"You have written some songs for your sister?"

"Yes."

"I notice Hambidge is not here tonight."

"No," she said, wishing he were.

"Good."

And that seemed to be the end of that conversation, as the Marquess began to make some opening remarks and introduced Sophie and the slate of musical selections the audience would be hearing. The guests gave polite applause and Sophie commenced to play, her masterful and expressive rendition of Beethoven's Concerto No. 5, Op. 73 filling the room with soaring arpeggios and lush, romantic trills, her fingers dancing over the keys, up and down the keyboard. The intensity of the strain played in her expression, as far as Ellen could see, but her sister was brilliant at every point. Ellen discovered she was holding her breath listening to the second movement, one of the most beautiful musical pieces ever written as far as she was concerned.

When she finished the Beethoven, it was a moment before the applause started, so stunned were the audience by her virtuosity. She nodded her head and waved then began some selections from Mozart's The Magic Flute including the Overture and "The Queen of the Night" aria, both of which she had learned when she was small. The applause was only slightly less, because the pieces were more familiar, but everyone seemed to enjoy her playing. And then it was time for her to play "The Stallion and the Sky" and "The Maiden and the Fish," the two poems she had modified and adapted to music. Ellen listened the first song and felt like crying, so moved was she by her sister's voice and the pining sounds of the pianoforte. But the last few lines of "The Maiden and the Fish" brought the tears out, as they somehow reminded Ellen of her and Ethan, though she did not know why, for their situations were nothing alike. She dabbed fiercely at the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief as her sister sang,

"Before the maiden left for good

She visited the sea

To say farewell to her true love