By all appearances, she had guessed right. Nobody commented on her address. Rather, the duchess circled her and eyed her in a critical manner. Georgiana began to feel as if she were a horse being examined at Tattersall’s.
“Good height, regular features, clear skin, rosy cheeks, not plump but not too thin, you know I cannot abide a girl who eats too much or too little, very fine head of hair and plenty of it. Perfectly acceptable, Louisa.”
Lady Mendleton clapped her hands. “Did I not say she would be perfect?”
“Of course you did, what else would you say? I will presume the girl is accomplished?”
Though Georgiana had felt it uncomfortable to be spoken of as if she had no ears, she found herself rather grateful to be left out of the current conversation. She stared at Lady Mendleton to see what she would say of Miss Wilcox’s rather thin accomplishments.
“Accomplished? Oh, naturally,” Lady Mendleton said in a hurried voice. “Most particularly, she is an exceedingly talented horsewoman. Quite renowned in her home county. We plan on parading her through the park in the most charming new riding habit you can imagine.”
“Ah, excellent plan,” the duchess said. “What young gentleman fails to admire a lady who’s got a good seat? I am quite certain the duke took notice ofmeon a certain similar outing.”
“So you have often said,” Lady Mendleton said. “I knew you would understand the charm of the scheme.”
“Now, the park is all very well, but I have a scheme of my own. I am to have a musical evening on Tuesday next which will be simply ideal in showcasing the girl.”
“A musical evening?” Lady Mendleton said, sinking down into a chair.
“My dear Miss Wilcox,” the duchess said, “do me the honor of sampling your talents while we wait for the other ladies to arrive. I insist on being the first to hear, as I do think my rank entitles me to it.”
“Oh, I…” Georgiana said, trailing off.
“Do not be modest!” the duchess said.
“It is not modesty, truly,” Georgiana said.
“To the pianoforte this instant,” the duchess said in the imperious manner that Lady Mendleton had previously mentioned. “Another of the ladies may arrive at any moment and Iwillbe first.”
Georgiana slowly made her way to the instrument. Exceedingly slowly, as if her feet were sunk in mud.
“Hop, hop, Miss Wilcox!” the duchess said, clapping her hands energetically.
There was no getting round it. Georgiana sat down at the pianoforte and stared at the keys. Certainly, her diligent practicing must have helped. She was likely feeling nervous over nothing. She might not ever be acclaimed for her playing, but she at least would not shock, as she had on her first try in front of Lady Mendleton.
She chose a lively Irish tune that she thought suited whatever little skill she had. While the slower tunes allowed more time to move between keys, the faster airs were less likely to highlight any misplaced fingers on the wrong keys. As she was in the habit of misplacing fingers whether fast or slow, she thought speed more likely to cover her mistakes.
Georgiana gained confidence as she played and found herself rather relieved to near the end of it. That was, until she noted Perry out of the corner of her eye.
The butler was just coming in with a tray of cakes and biscuits. His brows were knit together as one, he had gone slack-jawed, and his eyes held the sort of dread one might see in a rabbit caught in a field with a hawk circling overhead.
She stopped playing and slowly turned round to the ladies.
Lady Mendleton lay back on the sofa, fanning herself vigorously. The duchess gripped the edge of her chair and her cheeks puffed in and out like a bellows.
Certainly, she could not have been that bad?
Goodness, shemusthave been that bad. She had not ever thought her playing would pose a physical risk of harm to anyone, but the two ladies were indeed laid low.
“Miss Wilcox,” the duchess said, nearly gasping, “do not ever do that in public again. Not even under threat of death.”
Georgiana bowed her head. “I know it’s dreadful. I have been practicing and I had hoped—”
“Hope no more in that direction,” the duchess said, taking a deep breath and seeming to regain some of her composure. “I do not suppose you favor another instrument? Harp? Lute?”
“She does not even sing,” Lady Mendleton said sadly, waving her fan slowly over her cheeks.
The duchess tsk-tsked and said, “Very strange.”
