Page 31 of A Symphony for the Earl

He approached her and bowed formally, offering his hand. Fiona stood and curtsied, determined to remain poised and cool. But the minute his fingers settled on her waist, her pulse skittered. She fixed her gaze beyond his shoulder and concentrated on her steps, avoiding eye contact.

“Well done,” said Lady Amelia, clapping as they finished. “I can scarcely credit that this is only your second practice. However, it’s well past Octavia’s bedtime. Please take her upstairs, and thank you for the fine accompaniment, Miss Ernest.”

Octavia mouthed a silent please to her brother, who laughed and shook his head. “Enough excitement for one evening, Scamp.”

Looking very woebegone, Octavia followed Miss Ernest out of the room.

Lady Amelia settled back against the sofa cushions. “Would you play for us now, my dear? Something romantic, I think.”

She sat down at the piano and flexed her fingers. After a few arpeggios to loosen up, she fingered the lovely notes of a Schubert étude. She looked up to catch the earl watching her with an intensity she could not decipher and nearly dropped a note. Devil take the man, why did he throw her off balance? When she finished playing, Lord Richard rose and kissed Lady Amelia’s forehead affectionately.

“I mentioned meeting Denys at Watier’s tonight and must send him an apology. Do you have plans tomorrow, Mother?”

She reached up to touch his lean cheek with a tender smile. “Nothing definite, but I thought of a trip to the circulating library. I’m anxious to see if they have Louisa Stanhope’s latest novel. And Octavia has begged me to take her before she leaves for Bath.”

“She’s going away?” Fiona was disappointed to see Octavia leave, and surprised at how quickly she had become fond of the sisters.

“She is going to see my sister in Bath tomorrow for a week or two. Charlotte has been begging me to let her visit.”

“Don’t worry, Fiona, she is far from bereft,” Valentina said. “Octavia has Aunt Charlotte wound around her little finger. She loves it there because her cousin is the same age, and they run wild over the countryside. Aunt Charlotte indulges them both terribly.”

“I cannot decide whose influence is worse…Jerome, or my nephew,” Richard said. “The last time Octavia returned from Bath, she brought home two pet spiders.”

Valentina shuddered. “I shall never forget the sight of them crawling across my bed. Please don’t bring anything home, Octavia! Mama, after we visit the library, may we stop at Sutton’s? There’s a bonnet in the window that will match my green crepe dress perfectly.”

Fiona couldn’t summon the same enthusiasm for shopping as Valentina and Lady Amelia. “May I stay home to practice?”

“Of course, my dear. We shall bring a book for you if you like,” Lady Amelia offered.

“I am expected at Jackson’s in the morning to box, but afterward I thought I might take Fiona for a ride along Rotten Row.” The earl raised an eyebrow. “I have an excellent mount or two that would suit you. Are you game? You mentioned your riding was tolerable…is it up to the mark?”

“You will soon find out, my lord,” she retorted.

He smiled. “Then I shall have a horse brought around…say, twelve thirty? Valentina, would you join us?”

His sister shuddered. “No, thank you. I am no rider, and it would not be to my advantage to be seen in a spill. But, Fiona, you must go. Hyde Park has excellent paths, and you can meet the entire ton on Rotten Row.”

“All of them at once?” Fiona smiled. “Then I must prepare to be under the microscope once more, I suppose.”

Chapter Eleven

Miss Rafferty Takes a Ride in Rotten Row

Fiona partook of hot chocolate in her room the next morning, bringing her cup to the chintz armchair by the window to finish Henry V. The stirring play occupied her attention completely until Betty knocked on the door to begin the dressing process.

At eleven o’clock, she descended the stairs, clad in her riding habit. It had been glorious to play her fill last night, and she had practiced until well after midnight. Her head was still full of lieder and impromptus, but her technique and agility showed steady improvement.

She passed Hansen, at attention with his usual dour expression, on her way to the music room and said a cheery good morning.

“Ah, Fiona,” Lady Amelia greeted her in the entrance hall, “we are off, my dear. Are you sure there is nothing we might fetch to supplement your wardrobe? The haberdashery is next to Sutton’s and carries everything one might need.”

“I can’t seem to find my long gloves. Would you mind bringing home a new pair for me?”

“Of course not. Hansen, we are ready for the carriage. My, that’s a lovely riding habit, my dear. Very fetching. Not everyone can carry off black, but it suits your complexion admirably.”

The fitted bodice and full skirt of the black merino habit might have been severe, if not for the ivory lace jabot and the rakishly tilted hat with peacock feathers and black netting perched on her dark hair. The outfit was several seasons old, but still fashionable enough for Mayfair.

“We won’t leave for Almack’s until later tonight,” Lady Amelia said, “so you need not rush home from your ride today. Octavia, do not follow Mrs. Talbot to the kitchen. I have told you, no more cookies. By the way, girls, we’ve had many calling cards left with Hansen the past few days. Shall we entertain visitors later this afternoon?”