Page 1 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

Prologue

April 12, 1811

Georgiana skipped into her brother's study, drawing the attention of both him and their cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam.

“Brother, you sent for me?”

“My dear, I have learned of a music shop we have not yet visited, and I am told it has a remarkable collection of older Scottish airs.”

“Fitzwilliam, are we to go there today?”

“We are. First, I must finish my business with Richard, and then we shall go. Run upstairs and change into a suitable gown. The shop is located on Cheapside, so wear one of your older dresses. I have no notion how clean the place may be.”

Richard raised a brow. “Where are you taking my ward, Darcy? Will you require a soldier for protection?”

Georgiana giggled.

“Cousin, you can be so droll. You should see some of the establishments we have visited. They are old, dusty shops of the humblest sort, but so very interesting.”

“And what is the attraction, little cousin? Or dare I ask?”

“We discovered Neal's Collection of Scotch Tunes, which includes a song Fitzwilliam remembers Mamma playing. I have learned it myself and shall play it for you whenever you wish, Richard.”

“Then play it for us when you come to dinner on Thursday evening. I am certain my mother would enjoy hearing it as well.”

“Run upstairs and change, Georgie. We shall finish here in about fifteen minutes.”

* * *

Darcy and Georgiana paused just inside the entrance of a clean, orderly music shop at 26 Cheapside owned by the celebrated pianist and composer Muzio Clementi. Music drifted from an adjoining room, and they assumed Clementi himself sat at the pianoforte.

“Fitzwilliam, I could stand here all day listening to him.”

“As could I, sweetling. What a remarkable gift he has.”

A young clerk approached them. “How may I assist you?”

“We have been told you have a collection of original printings of Scottish music.”

“Indeed, we do. Pray, come with me.”

The brother and sister followed the young man to the rear of the shop.

He indicated a mahogany music cabinet filled with stacks of leather and pasteboard portfolios.

“This cabinet contains all our Scottish and Irish music. You are welcome to look through it. There is a table and chairs by the window where you may sit.”

Darcy selected several portfolios, and the brother and sister carried them to the window and took their seats.

Each took a portfolio and leafed through the printed music. One portfolio after another yielded nothing.

Failing to find the arrangement of Robin Adair they sought, Darcy stacked the portfolios upon a nearby table and returned for another armful.

They searched for two and a half hours without success.

At last, Darcy looked to his sister. “Are you tired, Georgie? Shall we leave?”

“No, Brother. Let us keep looking, unless you are hungry.”