I nodded, as the music began.
‘It’s very simple.One-two-three, one-two-three.Follow my feet. When I step forward with my right foot, you step back with your left foot, then we step to the side, like half of a square,’ he instructed. ‘You can hear the rhythm of the dance. Listen,’ he added, as we began moving. I trod on his toes a few times initially, but then I started to get it.
‘Very good.’ He purred in my ear as the music rolled around us like a wave. ‘Now we will turn, the same steps, but to the side, follow me… that’s right. You’re doing very well, my sweet one.’ There was a smile in his voice, and I blushed at the mention of his pet name for me. Specifically, it was the name William called me in bed.
I loved it when he praised me. I loved it when he made me feel like his prized possession, his queen. It was alwaysmy sweet one, in praise, orharlot,when I was tormenting him with desire.
I loved the fact that William was barely able to control his desire for me; the fact that he tried so hard to control it, and made sure that he pleasured me before himself, was one of the many reasons I adored him. Now, in this moment, I was also flooded with relief that the warmth we had built between us was still there. William had felt so distant since I’d found him in this new time, and I hadn’t known how to get through to him. Finally, something in him seemed to have shifted.
Nancy had observed that we might have been born to sing together, so beautiful was the harmony of our voices. But the chemistry that exploded between us as we danced was a different kind of sensual union.
I always felt like I was melting when I was in William’s arms, but now, within the dance that unfurled around us like a wave, it was the same kind of feeling as when we were making love. We were so deeply enraptured in each other, our eyes never faltering, gazing deeply into each other’s souls. We moved in sync with each other, my body responding to his, following where he led me. It was as if we were the only ones on the dance floor, and, in that moment, I never wanted the dance to end.
‘Miss Penrose, I take it?’
I was startled out of my reverie by a conservatively dressed woman with a tight smile who had approached me and tapped me on the shoulder, one eyebrow raised in expectation. ‘Miss Willcock said you would come. I believe you are her niece?’ she looked enquiringly at me and then William.
‘Oh. Yes, that’s right,’ I replied, politely. ‘We were just…’ I blushed, embarrassed. The woman’s tone implied that she’d caught us doing something we weren’t supposed to.
‘You are late. The entertainment will begin shortly, when Miss Violet comes down with Lady Hermione. She has been feeling a little ill.’ The woman looked around her, warily, as if Miss Violet might have snuck up on her without her knowing. ‘I am expecting her any moment. I am Mrs Feathers, the housekeeper.’
‘We are pleased to make your acquaintance.’ I bobbed a curtsey. ‘Thank you for letting us play this evening.’
‘Good evening, madam.’ William bowed politely. Mrs Feathers looked him up and down, curiously.
‘And you are?’ She frowned. I thought of Mrs Cottingley, the housekeeper at Trevarron House in 1755, with some nostalgia. Mrs Cottingley had been far less icy.
‘This is my husband, William Penrose,’ I said, quickly. I realised that in our planning, we hadn’t come up with a fake name for William, and part of me could see that he would forget that he wasn’t supposed to be the Lord of Trevarron anymore, and introduce himself as such.
‘Your husband?’ She frowned again.
‘And fellow musician.’ I nodded. ‘I sing. William sings with me, and also plays the piano.’
‘Indeed,’ Mrs Feathers said, her eyebrow raised. ‘I can’t say that I can see much family resemblance to the pellar. You’re not from here?’
‘No. We live in Penzance.’ I returned to the story that Nancy and I had concocted. I knew that the best way to lie was to keep it simple and believable. ‘We are just visiting my cousin, and she is so fond of the lord and lady that she volunteered our services.’
‘Hm. Miss Willcock is a kind soul, then. I know she is very popular with the below stairs staff, though I don’t hold with all that quackery myself,’ the housekeeper said, in a dismissive tone. ‘Still, since you’re doing this for no fee, the master is allowing it. Miss Violet enjoys music.’ Her expression softened for a moment at the mention of the young lady; perhaps Mrs Feathers wasn’t such a terrible person after all, I thought.
There was a commotion behind us, and Mrs Feathers looked panicked.
‘That’s Lady Hermione and Miss Violet now. Go.’ She waved us to the stage, where a piano stood. The string quartet stopped playing and the dancing ended abruptly; the party guests milled around us.
I looked over to the grand double doors. A timid-looking woman, graceful but extremely petite and pale, had entered the room, with a similarly petite child. Both of them had long, auburn hair, and while Lady Hermione’s was tied up tightly like many of the ladies, Violet’s hair hung loose in beautiful ringlets. Like her mother, she looked pale, and hollow-eyed, as if she wasn’t getting enough to eat, or any sunlight.
‘My darlings.’ A bluff, dark-haired man, tall like William, though less muscular and more heavyset, made his way through the crowd and took Lady Hermione by the arm. ‘We have everything set up for you. This way.’ He guided them to three vacant chairs which were arranged in front of the stage on which we were to perform. There were no chairs for anyone else; I assumed that the rest of the partygoers were expected to stand.
I exchanged glances with William, but there was no time to say anything. It was time for us to play.
I wish that I could have enjoyed listening to William sing, but my heart was in my throat all the time that we were on stage.
As I stood next to the piano and arranged my skirts, I watched William sit down next to me and open the sheet music that we’d brought with us. We’d prepared some songs – Nancy had suggested Gilbert and Sullivan, some of which I recognised, and William had tried to learn a bit so he was at least vaguely familiar, and would be all right with the music in front of him. He looked at me warily, and then placed both hands on the keys.
The crowd watched us expectantly. There were a few coughs and whispers. Seated between Lady Hermione and Violet, I saw Lord Albert Trevarron watching William closely, his eyes narrowed.
William began to play. They were popular songs at the time, that I knew; a change from the classical music that had been playing as the crowd danced. William, however, was playing them for the first time.
At first, I was a little nervous, but when William joined in with the singing, I began to relax. His physical presence calmed me. The crowd started to clap and sing along.
