Isobel
said.
“ How very unfortunate.”
“ Is now too soon to
start?”
II
Although their sessions were shorter than Isobel
would have liked, Faircourt agreed he could work with her at least
twice a week without risking unpleasant gossip. She was delighted
when the two-hour practices soon stretched to three hours and then
gradually to four. It was not long before she was encouraged enough
at her progress to play one of her own compositions for
Faircourt.
Isobel winced at the expression on his face. “Well,
what did you think?” she asked timidly. He was silent for so long
that she finally said, “Was it so terrible?”
“ Quite the contrary. Miss St.
James, you are talented, of that there can be no doubt. In addition
to talent, you possess something few others have: the ability to
work hard. Believe me, ‘tis a rare combination, and under different
circumstances your success would not be in doubt.” He looked at her
intently, lifting his eyebrows in an expression of uncertainty.
“Wednesday fortnight I am engaged to play at Lord Huntingdon’s. I
should like to have you perform, among other works, the piece you
just played for me. But,”—he held up his hand to stop her
interruption— “Miss St. James, how badly do you want to be a
musician?” Faircourt clasped his hands behind his back and began
pacing.
“ It’s all I’ve ever
wanted.”
“ Do you want it badly enough to do
something a little…er…unusual?”
“ What exactly do you
mean?”
“ I mean that you should play at
Lord Huntingdon’s in the guise of a man.”
“ You can’t mean it!” She
laughed.
“ Miss St. James, which do you want
to be—a musician, or a woman musician? If you performed as a man,
they would hear only your music.” He paused. “I admit the idea is a
shocking one,” he said, when he saw Isobel was staring at
him.
“ I think the idea is a splendid
one.”
Isobel was surprised at how easily Julia was
convinced to help her. “You Americans are so daring,” she said.
“But think of the scandal if you are discovered!”
“ If you help me, I won’t be
discovered, Julia. I need to change my clothes here at Hartforde
House. If my father or Mrs. Godwaite ever found out, it would be
the end of everything. You’ve simply got to help me!”
“ You’re not going to be talked out
of this, are you?”
“ No.”
“ I suppose it’s my fault for
sending you to Mr. Faircourt.” She sighed.
“ Then you’ll help me?”
They spent two entire afternoons during the week
before her performance sequestered in Julia’s room altering the
suit she was to wear.
They chose the finest clothes from those Julia had
procured from her brother’s valet by telling him she needed
clothing to donate to the poor. Most of them were more than
acceptable for a young gentleman; many of the shirts were a fine
white lawn, a little worn about the cuffs, but with tolerably lacy
cravats. There were also three waistcoats, two frock coats, three
pairs of breeches, and Isobel had succeeded in obtaining a pair of
soft leather boots and a pair of buckled shoes that fit her well
enough.
It was the things that had belonged to Lord
Hartforde that they were frantically altering. There was a
hardly-worn silk shirt, a frothy cravat, and a pair of gray
breeches along with a matching waistcoat sporting gold-embroidered
pockets. But the glory of her suit was to be the frock coat. It was
green satin lined in a darker green with gold buttons in the shape
of a lion’s head, and, most impressive of all, the entire coat was
embroidered with gold thread. Worn but once, it was marred only by
a small stain at the bottom of the hem that was cut away in making
it small enough to fit Isobel’s considerably smaller frame.
The day before the performance, Julia watched as
Isobel pulled on a pair of hose and secured them to garters before
pulling on the breeches, fastened at the bottom with a row of
silver buttons and tied with a bow just below
said.
“ How very unfortunate.”
“ Is now too soon to
start?”
II
Although their sessions were shorter than Isobel
would have liked, Faircourt agreed he could work with her at least
twice a week without risking unpleasant gossip. She was delighted
when the two-hour practices soon stretched to three hours and then
gradually to four. It was not long before she was encouraged enough
at her progress to play one of her own compositions for
Faircourt.
Isobel winced at the expression on his face. “Well,
what did you think?” she asked timidly. He was silent for so long
that she finally said, “Was it so terrible?”
“ Quite the contrary. Miss St.
James, you are talented, of that there can be no doubt. In addition
to talent, you possess something few others have: the ability to
work hard. Believe me, ‘tis a rare combination, and under different
circumstances your success would not be in doubt.” He looked at her
intently, lifting his eyebrows in an expression of uncertainty.
“Wednesday fortnight I am engaged to play at Lord Huntingdon’s. I
should like to have you perform, among other works, the piece you
just played for me. But,”—he held up his hand to stop her
interruption— “Miss St. James, how badly do you want to be a
musician?” Faircourt clasped his hands behind his back and began
pacing.
“ It’s all I’ve ever
wanted.”
“ Do you want it badly enough to do
something a little…er…unusual?”
“ What exactly do you
mean?”
“ I mean that you should play at
Lord Huntingdon’s in the guise of a man.”
“ You can’t mean it!” She
laughed.
“ Miss St. James, which do you want
to be—a musician, or a woman musician? If you performed as a man,
they would hear only your music.” He paused. “I admit the idea is a
shocking one,” he said, when he saw Isobel was staring at
him.
“ I think the idea is a splendid
one.”
Isobel was surprised at how easily Julia was
convinced to help her. “You Americans are so daring,” she said.
“But think of the scandal if you are discovered!”
“ If you help me, I won’t be
discovered, Julia. I need to change my clothes here at Hartforde
House. If my father or Mrs. Godwaite ever found out, it would be
the end of everything. You’ve simply got to help me!”
“ You’re not going to be talked out
of this, are you?”
“ No.”
“ I suppose it’s my fault for
sending you to Mr. Faircourt.” She sighed.
“ Then you’ll help me?”
They spent two entire afternoons during the week
before her performance sequestered in Julia’s room altering the
suit she was to wear.
They chose the finest clothes from those Julia had
procured from her brother’s valet by telling him she needed
clothing to donate to the poor. Most of them were more than
acceptable for a young gentleman; many of the shirts were a fine
white lawn, a little worn about the cuffs, but with tolerably lacy
cravats. There were also three waistcoats, two frock coats, three
pairs of breeches, and Isobel had succeeded in obtaining a pair of
soft leather boots and a pair of buckled shoes that fit her well
enough.
It was the things that had belonged to Lord
Hartforde that they were frantically altering. There was a
hardly-worn silk shirt, a frothy cravat, and a pair of gray
breeches along with a matching waistcoat sporting gold-embroidered
pockets. But the glory of her suit was to be the frock coat. It was
green satin lined in a darker green with gold buttons in the shape
of a lion’s head, and, most impressive of all, the entire coat was
embroidered with gold thread. Worn but once, it was marred only by
a small stain at the bottom of the hem that was cut away in making
it small enough to fit Isobel’s considerably smaller frame.
The day before the performance, Julia watched as
Isobel pulled on a pair of hose and secured them to garters before
pulling on the breeches, fastened at the bottom with a row of
silver buttons and tied with a bow just below
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