Lord Devere's Ward by Sue Swift Page B

make you known to Lady Sybilla Farland.”
    Pauline removed herself from behind Kate’s flowing skirt and hesitantly came forward.

    Kate continued, “Lady Sybilla lately attended Miss Elizabeth’s School near Bath, a select seminary for young ladies of learning.” Kate turned to Sybilla.
    “Pauline has an interest in languages.”
    “Indeed.” Sybilla bent her intent gaze upon Pauline. “Have you yet read Latin?”
    Pauline nodded. “Yes, and Greek also.”
    “Latin and Greek?” Ursula Damaris was visibly astonished. “When did young ladies of breeding take up the study of ancient languages?”
    “Many young ladies of breeding have always been educated,” said Kate.
    “Whatever for?” Louisa asked. “I have never understood this passion for book-learning you and Pauline exhibit. We are destined to marry and produce children. Of what earthly use is Greek?”
    “You are one to talk,” her sister said. “Of what use is your skill upon the pianoforte?”
    “To entertain my husband and guests, of course.”
    “Nonsense! You do not practice Mozart and Bach for three, four hours every day to amuse prospective cicisbeos,” Kate said. “You study music because it pleases you to do so, and because you have true talent.”
    Louisa blushed.
    “Don’t deny it, Lou, anyone who has heard your performance knows it to be altogether out of the ordinary,” Pauline said.
    “If that is indeed the case, Miss Penrose, we would be enchanted to hear you play after luncheon, if you would be so kind.” Lady Ursula sounded delighted to have hooked the latest favorite of the ton into performing.
    Louisa appeared to regain her composure. “My sister exaggerates. My skill is no more than commonplace.”
    Kate knew Louisa was modest but not truthful.
    After lunch, the sky clouded. Lady Ursula called the group into her drawing room to again urge Louisa to play upon the pianoforte. Kate had seen her “cousin” at the instrument many times, but she never ceased to be struck by the change in Louisa’s demeanor which took place whenever Lou played the pianoforte. Gone was The Fairy; here was a pure spirit attempting to wrest something real and true from the inanimate ivory, wire, and wood of her instrument.
    Kate listened with pleasure as Louisa played a Bach fugue with both precision and fire. When she finished, there was a short silence, then the room erupted in applause.
    “I told you,” said Pauline. “She looks like her garret is empty, but there is substance underneath all that fluffy hair.”
    “It’s your turn, Paul.” Louisa beckoned to her sister.
    “Mine?” Pauline gasped. “You can’t be serious.”
    “Absolutely.” Louisa gave Pauline her most wicked grin. “Since you and Kay have seen fit to puff my talents, the least I can do is return the compliment.” She turned to their hostess. “Ma’am, you must hear my sister and my cousin sing.” Kate’s stomach hit bottom. She felt it unwise to draw attention to herself, given her situation, but she had no choice. She knew that a becoming modesty was unexceptional but it wouldn’t fadge to refuse.
    “Very well. Perhaps one short tune.”
    “The Oak and the Ash?” Pauline suggested.
    Louisa nodded, then struck the opening bars of the famous old English folk song. As was their habit, Kate took the melody and Pauline, who had a pleasing contralto, sang the harmony. By the time they reached the second verse, everyone joined in on the chorus.
    One song followed another, and the hours sped by until the scheduled end of the luncheon at three o’clock. Lady Ursula made her goodbyes to the flock of young guests as a parade of barouches and landaus left along her graveled drive, heading back to Town.
    “We shall have to invite her to some
    entertainment of ours,” remarked Pauline to Kate.
    “She is really very charming.”
    Kate buttoned her pelisse. Although it was not raining, their open landau was chilly in the cloudy afternoon. “Yes, I enjoyed myself