“I think it was well thought of, but perhaps you are right. He really enjoys surrounding himself with his former shipmates, does he not?”
“Yes,” Fanny sighed. “He misses the sea. I will be glad when Alexa is a little older and we can take up our travels again. London society makes this such a tiny, vicious place. Everyone thinks the worst of everyone else. At least in Shropshire, you did not have to see your neighbors every night of the week. It is unnatural. It breeds the worst kind of gossip.”
“Have you been quite alone since Buck left? Has nobody visited you?”
“I visited Aunt Clarice and Sukey. And the pets, of course. The ladies are quite excited about the Orphanage for Girls. They are drawing up lists of potential patrons for Peter.”
Sophie outlined the steps they had contemplated while in Chipping Norton.
“What a shame it is so far from London. I will not be able to read Mrs. Radcliffe to the dears.”
“By the time everything is organized, you and Buck will be back on the high seas.”
~~*
The following morning at eleven o’clock, the Carstairs appeared as requested.
“Sophie, my dear, are you quite recovered?” Bella asked, peering into her eyes in an overly solicitous way.
“Yes. The illness was slight, after all. I alarmed everyone in vain,” Sophie replied.
Joseph was regarding her gravely, and Bella seemed possessed of an odd nervous energy. Clearly, there was something on their minds.
“What is it?” Sophie asked. “You are both so agitated.”
“Last night at Lady Westhaven’s rout, we chanced to see Frank,” Bella said. “We heard about his engagement, and could not believe it! It was clear as the nose on your face that he was in love with you, Sophie, dear.”
“We have known Frank for a long time, and never have we thought to see him behave so shabbily,” Joseph added.
“But perhaps you are well out of it,” Bella continued. “Despite his scandalous engagement, he was openly consorting with his mistress. They showed absolutely no shame. She was hanging on his arm, all pressed against him, and his fiancée not five steps away!” Bella’s face flushed with outrage. “I have never in my life done it before, but Joseph and I gave them the cut direct. And we have known Frank for donkey’s years.”
Sophie felt her knees go, and collapsed on the chair behind her, staring straight ahead. She could not think, she could only feel. A rush of fury hardened her jaw. How could Frank treat Melissa thus? And so much for all his protestations of undying love for her! She was not out of his presence for more than a few days and he had lapsed back into his old ways. All the tender feelings she had felt for him during her sojourn flooded her, and she cut them off, one by one.
“Oh dear,” Bella said from some place far away. “What have I done?”
Kneeling in front of Sophie, she clasped her hands. “My wicked, wicked tongue! Oh, Sophie, dear, forgive me!”
Bella. Joseph. Beethoven.
In a daze, Sophie stood. “Let us proceed with our rehearsal.”
“Are you certain?” Bella asked. “Perhaps we should leave. You have had a shock, Sophie. You do not look at all the thing.”
“Yes. We must proceed. We only have a week and a half before our performance.”
Sophie stood, braced by her anger, and walked to where her violin case lay open on the piano. Taking up her instrument, she began to tune it. “An A please, Bella.”
Joseph took out his cello and began tuning as well. He had already set out the music on their stands.
Their tuning complete, he looked at Sophie, his face still grave, and bowed his head sharply. Her cue to begin. They commenced the rehearsal.
Channeling all her emotion into her performance, Sophie’s world shrank. It was just Beethoven, her violin, Joseph, and Bella. With every piece she had ever played, there was a moment of understanding that came when she saw the music from the inside out, when she was one with the composer. This was that moment. As she drew her bow across the strings, as her fingers flew along the fingerboard, she focused on Herr van Beethoven. Instinctively, she realized he had written this piece when he was possessed by fury. The strings were his anger, the piano his palliative.
When she drew the bow over her strings for the final note, Sophie knew a sense of victory.
For a moment, she was alone, inside her own performance.
“Sophie, you were magnificent!” Joseph said. “You have brought our little trio to a new height. Brava!”
“Thank you. Shall we begin again?”
~~*
When the Carstairs left, Sophie’s extraordinary energy went with them. Fanny found her in the morning room, staring into the fireplace.
“It is time for luncheon, love,” she said.
Sophie rose and followed Fanny without a word. When they were seated and the soup had been placed before them, Fanny said, “You are white as a sheet, Soph. Tell me what is wrong.”
“Frank is shaming Melissa by appearing in public with his mistress hanging all over him.”