The Long Road Back to Yesterday (Pride And Prejudice Variation #8)

Prologue

Georgiana skipped into her brother's study, drawing the attention of both him and their cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam.

“Brother, you sent for me?”

“My dear, I have learned of a music shop we have not yet visited, and I am told it has a remarkable collection of older Scottish airs.”

“Fitzwilliam, are we to go there today?”

“We are. First, I must finish my business with Richard, and then we shall go. Run upstairs and change into a suitable gown. The shop is located on Cheapside, so wear one of your older dresses. I have no notion how clean the place may be.”

Richard raised a brow. “Where are you taking my ward, Darcy? Will you require a soldier for protection?”

Georgiana giggled.

“Cousin, you can be so droll. You should see some of the establishments we have visited. They are old, dusty shops of the humblest sort, but so very interesting.”

“And what is the attraction, little cousin? Or dare I ask?”

“We discovered Neal's Collection of Scotch Tunes, which includes a song Fitzwilliam remembers Mamma playing. I have learned it myself and shall play it for you whenever you wish, Richard.”

“Then play it for us when you come to dinner on Thursday evening. I am certain my mother would enjoy hearing it as well.”

“Run upstairs and change, Georgie. We shall finish here in about fifteen minutes.”

* * *

Darcy and Georgiana paused just inside the entrance of a clean, orderly music shop at 26 Cheapside owned by the celebrated pianist and composer Muzio Clementi. Music drifted from an adjoining room, and they assumed Clementi himself sat at the pianoforte.

“Fitzwilliam, I could stand here all day listening to him.”

“As could I, sweetling. What a remarkable gift he has.”

A young clerk approached them. “How may I assist you?”

“We have been told you have a collection of original printings of Scottish music.”

“Indeed, we do. Pray, come with me.”

The brother and sister followed the young man to the rear of the shop.

He indicated a mahogany music cabinet filled with stacks of leather and pasteboard portfolios.

“This cabinet contains all our Scottish and Irish music. You are welcome to look through it. There is a table and chairs by the window where you may sit.”

Darcy selected several portfolios, and the brother and sister carried them to the window and took their seats.

Each took a portfolio and leafed through the printed music. One portfolio after another yielded nothing.

Failing to find the arrangement of Robin Adair they sought, Darcy stacked the portfolios upon a nearby table and returned for another armful.

They searched for two and a half hours without success.

At last, Darcy looked to his sister. “Are you tired, Georgie? Shall we leave?”

“No, Brother. Let us keep looking, unless you are hungry.”

“No, I am quite well. Let me put these aside, and I shall bring a few more.”

They searched another hour when Georgiana uttered a little shriek. “I found it!”

Darcy held out his hand for the sheet music.

“This was printed in 1750. It may be the arrangement we have been searching for.”

He rose and beckoned to the clerk. “I believe we have found the arrangement of Robin Adair we have sought. Would you permit my sister to play it upon your pianoforte?”

“Certainly, sir.”

He led the Darcys to the far end of the shop, where a handsome Clementi upright grand of polished mahogany stood against the wall.

The young man arranged the bench, and Georgiana took her place.

Darcy set the music upon the music desk.

She arranged the loose sheets and played through the entire piece.

When the final notes faded, she looked to her brother. His gaze rested upon the far wall, and tears glistened in his eyes.

“Is this the arrangement Mamma used to play?”

“Yes, sweetling. This is the very one. As you played, I could picture our Mother seated in the music room at Pemberley, playing it from memory.”

Georgiana rose and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Oh, Fitzwilliam, after all these months, we found it. I shall practice until I know it so well you will scarcely be able to distinguish my playing from Mamma's.”

He laughed and rested his cheek against her hair.

“I look forward to that, sweetling. Come, let us purchase the music. I believe you found several other pieces you wished to have as well.”

She laughed. “Yes. There are five other Scottish or Irish pieces I should like to purchase. They were all printed in the 1750s. Perhaps you will remember Mamma playing some of them.”

Fitzwilliam paid for the music, and while the clerk wrote the receipt, Georgiana drew him aside.

“Fitzwilliam, there is a beautiful Morocco leather portfolio. Will you purchase it for me? I should like to keep these special pieces in it.”

“Of course. Where is it?”

She led him to another corner of the shop. They examined several portfolios before choosing one of red Morocco leather, tooled with a gold design.

When they returned to the counter, the clerk handed Mr. Darcy the receipt for the music.

Georgiana placed the leather portfolio beside it.

After the purchase was completed, the clerk handed Mr. Darcy the second receipt.

Georgiana slipped the music into the portfolio, and then Darcy tucked both receipts inside.

“Well, my dear, we have had a most productive afternoon. Let us return home and dress for dinner.”