Chapter 2 #2
He’d never imagined that his old friend would marry, and certainly not a hellion like Daphne, but now, here they were, blissfully wed, and Daphne’s stomach was just beginning to round a little under her gown.
Soon, it would be considered polite for her to retire from Society, once she began to properly show, but he had a feeling that Daphne would not be bowing to the whims of others anytime soon.
A flash of red caught his eye. He frowned, watching a truly hideous hairstyle bob through the crowd.
The woman was clearly of below-average height, and while her hair looked nice enough—a vibrant red with a good curl to it—the style she’d been forced into was nothing short of awful.
She stepped out of the crowd, heading towards the platform, and he winced.
“Who on earth put that beautiful young woman into that green monstrosity?” he muttered.
Daphne followed his gaze and threw him a thoughtful look.
“That is Lady Thalia. I believe her brother controls her wardrobe. She’s not considered particularly beautiful, you know.
She’s a little too curvaceous, and the fashion is for willowy beauties this year.
Ridiculous, I know. A woman’s body cannot come in and out of fashion like a style of bonnet. ”
Christian watched the girl bob across the floor. She had a particular determined, grim look on her face, with none of the simpering, self-conscious smiles that he often saw on other women.
Not considered beautiful? I think she’s remarkably pretty.
She had a round face dotted with freckles, and a snub nose down which her spectacles kept sliding. There was a mulish set to her mouth, and as Daphne had pointed out, beneath that horror of a dress she certainly did have a full bosom.
Not, of course, that it was polite to look at or even think about ladies’ bosoms in public.
She reached the edge of the platform and glanced over at a rake-thin red-headed man who must be the Marquess. He gave her a brisk nod, and she stepped onto the platform.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Marquess announced, clapping his hands for attention. “Lady Thalia will now sing a piece from Mozart’s Der Stein der Weisen.”
Polite applause ensued.
No, not simply polite applause. A quick glance around revealed that the audience seemed genuinely excited. They leaned forward in their seats, ready to listen.
Christian did not much care for opera and could not imagine what song she would sing, but apparently, she was likely to sing it so well that the audience was already anticipating being transported.
She took her place in the center of the stage. Behind her round, wire-rimmed spectacles, clear blue eyes raked across the crowd. Was it his imagination, or did they settle on him for an instant?
She probably had looked at him. Christian was well aware of his reputation.
Every respectable lady in the room would have been sternly warned by her mama or some other suitable person that he was not to be trusted and should not be approached under any circumstances.
If he approached a lady, he had no doubt that she would flee screaming.
But perhaps Lady Thalia was not the type to run away or scream.
Does she know where Laura has gone?
As this question echoed in his head, the music began, played on a pianoforte slowly and clearly. Lady Thalia closed her eyes, just for a moment. Her shoulders sank almost imperceptibly, and her tightly fisted fingers uncurled loosely by her sides.
She began to sing. Her voice filled the room, clear and pure, each note ringing out to perfection. Shivers ran up and down Christian’s spine.
“Goodness,” Edwin commented. “She’s as good as any singer I’ve heard in the opera houses.”
Daphne tutted. “I don’t think the Marquess will be pleased to hear you compare his sister to an opera singer.”
“Oh, you wretch, I wasn’t saying that.”
She nudged him playfully. “She is exceptionally good, though. No wonder her brother is so keen to show off her singing.”
“What is the song?” Christian heard himself ask.
Why had his mouth gone dry? Why was his tongue sticking to his palate?
Daphne took a moment before responding.
“Leibestod,” he ventured uncertainly. “Mild und leise, or something like that. The song is about love. I always think it impressive how one can feel the emotion of a song, even if one can’t understand the words.”
“It’s about falling in love,” Edwin added. “How love is a song that nobody else can hear but the lover. Very sweet, really. I saw the opera in Paris once.”
The room had gone deathly silent. Even their carefully muted whispering was receiving quick, annoyed glances. Everybody wanted to listen to Lady Thalia sing.
Christian watched her. Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint line between her eyebrows. Her German pronunciation was perfect. It wasn’t simply a case of having learnt the song by rote. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was fluent in German.
Interesting.
The song ended, and Lady Thalia blinked her eyes open as if she were waking from a reverie. The applause was thunderous, and Christian found himself joining in.
She bobbed a curtsey with a wry, faint smile and then darted off the platform. Almost without thinking, Christian strode through the crowd towards her. People stepped aside to let him through. Behind him, Edwin yelped and followed in his wake.
When he was only a few feet from Lady Thalia, the Marquess darted out of nowhere, seizing her arm.
“Oh no, you don’t!” he hissed.
Christian strained his ears to hear.
“Don’t you dare wander off again. You are going to stay here, and you are going to talk to Mr. Pembroke. He was transfixed by your performance. You did exceptionally well.”
She yanked her arm free. “Well, if I sang so well, surely I can be allowed a glass of water, can’t I?”
The Marquess pursed his lips in annoyance. “Very well. Have a sip of water then return here immediately, do you hear? Immediately! Don’t think I won’t come to fetch you.”
She said nothing and plunged off into the crowd again.
“What did you rush off for?” Edwin asked in annoyance, appearing at his side.
Christian winced in apology. “Forgive me, but I really must talk to that lady. I shan’t be a moment.”