Georgia chuckled.
Lord Ravencroft had to have heard but he stood by the fireplace, one arm resting on the mantel, showing no reaction save a small smile playing about his mouth as he watched the children prepare. A few people changed seats, and very quickly the ladies were on one side of the room, the children on the other, the men clustered in front of the fireplace. Uncle Edward good-naturedly took a spot beside Lord Mansfield. Ashley couldn’t recall if she’d ever heard her uncle sing. Melissa had seemed uncertain where she belonged until her mother waved her over to join the women.
One of the young cousins raised her hand as a signal, and the children started singing.
At the end of the first line, the women began singing. Ashley lent her voice, hidden among a dozen others, and the room swelled with the sweet melody and gory story about a farmer’s wife chopping off the tails of mice.
Then the men joined in. Ashley’s breath caught in her chest.
The men stood so close together she couldn’t distinguish which voice was whose. There were at least two tenors, two baritones, and one bass, all underscored by a basso profundo. The hair on her arms stood on end.
Ashley mouthed the words of the age-old song, incapable of producing actual sound, as the catch continued. The children finished, then the women. While the men sang the last line, Ashley felt the low bass notes vibrate in her bones.
Georgia smiled and nudged her in the ribs. “You’ll get used to it,” she whispered in Ashley’s ear.
“I’ve never heard the like,” Ashley whispered back. At the academy, the only male employee had been the groundskeeper who also kept the buildings in repair, and he’d never joined them for music practice. The students and staff all sang soprano or alto, occasionally contralto. Just as she relished the opportunity to dance with men after several years surrounded by women and girls, she loved hearing men sing.
Lady Mansfield directed two more catches, alternating which order the groups sang. Ashley tried to appear nonchalant and join in but lost her power of speech when the men sang.
Satisfied that everyone was warmed up vocally, a brief debate ensued between Lady Templeton, Lady Mansfield, their husbands, and Georgia’s older brother Parker as to what should be sung and in what order. Soon Lord Templeton settled at the pianoforte and played a few chords, Parker tuned his violincello, and Melissa played a few scales on her flute. When the musicians were ready, everyone in the room joined in a rousing rendition ofRule, Britannia!
They quickly moved on to the next song and then another, with different performers playing a variety of instruments. The Pekingese made the rounds, getting pets and scratches from everyone present. At Ashley’s turn, after she rubbed behind his silky ears, he stretched up on his back legs, front paw on the sofa cushion beside her knee, his pink tongue hanging out, tail wagging. She couldn’t resist patting her lap. He jumped up and turned around in a circle three times before he settled, half on her leg, half on the sofa, his tail thumping on Georgia’s lap.
“Tuffy!” Georgia hissed, putting her hands on him as if to push him to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to Ashley. “He doesn’t usually jump up on company.”
“I invited him,” she whispered back, stroking the dog. “He’s a handsome fellow.” She bent down to look him in his one eye. “Aren’t you, sweetings?” He licked her face.
She chuckled and straightened, her attention once more on the proceedings, and continued to absently stroke the dog with one hand.
Group songs were interspersed with duets and trios. Melissa, Georgia, and Georgia’s older sister Clarissa called on Lord Ravencroft to play the pianoforte again while they sang a Monteverdi aria. This time he sang baritone, a rich accompaniment to their soprano, alto, and contralto, dropping out occasionally to let their voices be the focus.
Mesmerized, Ashley sat perfectly still. Unable to tear her gaze away from Lord Ravencroft, she hardly breathed, barely blinked. Fortunately everyone else was watching the performance as well. She had thought him reasonably handsome when she first got a good look at him, distracted by the streak of white in his otherwise light brown hair. But his voice…
His voice danced over the notes, agile and not the least bit ponderous for its low register, advancing and retreating, always letting his nieces’ voices shine through.
That something teased her memory again. Had she heard him sing at one of the soirees she’d attended? Surely she’d remember a young gentleman with a white streak in his hair, worn long yet loose. Perhaps he’d tied it back? Worn a wig?
She joined in the applause when the quartet finished. Two maids arrived with tea trays, and a governess came to collect the younger children. One of the girls came over to the sofa and patted her chest. Tuffy leaped into her arms, to be carried upstairs.
An hour had passed, seemingly in a blink.
“The two blue pots are hot tea,” Georgia explained, retaking her seat on the sofa and brushing dog hairs from her skirts. “The two pots with cabbage roses are cool tea with lemon juice and lots of honey. Very soothing if your throat is irritated or you’ve been singing a lot.”
Ashley froze.
“Something wrong?” Georgia filled her cup from the cabbage rose pot and snagged an apple puff from the tray of a passing maid.
Ashley shook herself and surreptitiously looked at each person in the room again. None of the women had silver hair. “Nothing. It’s only the second time I’ve ever been offered that particular beverage, and the first was two days ago.” She selected one of the little cakes and a cup of cool tea.
Georgia shrugged. “We have it often. Someone is always wanting to sing higher or lower or longer than their voice would otherwise allow. And it tastes divine. I could drink it by the jugful.”
Conversation buzzed in the room again, and Ashley heard mention of an upcoming competition. “Your family takes singing very seriously. They compete?”
Georgia rose and gestured for Ashley to follow. One of the tall bookcases held folios of music and small instrument cases, like Melissa’s flute, but two of the shelves held medals, framed and protected by glass. Georgia reached toward one of the medals, stopping just short of touching the glass. “On my stepmother’s side, my great-grandfather … or is it great-great-grandfather? … entertained the court of King George the First, and for his excellent service was made the first Earl of Ravencroft. He was a founding member of the Noblemen and Gentlemen’s Catch Club. See these medals? His quartet won several of them for singing performances, as well as he won individually for original compositions. And this shelf has some of my grandfather’s medals.”
Ashley had heard of the Catch Club, so exclusive and membership numbers so limited that other catch and glee clubs had sprung up, filled with people on the waiting list to get into the original club. “Your stepmother?”
“She’s lovely, isn’t she? My parents had the three of us. My first mother died when I was a babe. Father married Diana and had three children with her. The governess just took them upstairs. We all look like Father.”
