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Gideon had raised his head again and was looking at me incredulously. “Please,” he tried again.
“We just won’t tell anyone about it,” I said. “Okay? This will be our secret.”
“And now comes the great moment!” cried Lord Brompton. “The wonderful, unique, and beautiful Miss Gray will sing for us! Her first performance in public!”
I ought to have felt alarmed, because all the talk died down, and all eyes were on me, but I didn’t. That punch was just divine! I absolutely must get the recipe.
What was it I’d said I was going to sing?
Gideon struck a couple of notes on the keyboard, and I recognized the opening bars. “Memory.” Yes, right, that was it. I smiled gratefully at Gideon. How kind of him to prompt me and join in. I took a deep breath. The first note of this song was particularly important. If you got it wrong, you might just as well give up right away. The word midnight had to come out clear as glass and yet ring all around the room.
I was pleased, because I sounded just like Barbra Streisand singing it. “Not a sound from the pavement, has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone.”
Guess what? Gideon could obviously play the piano, too. And not badly either. Oh, God, if I hadn’t been head over heels in love with him already, I’d have fallen in love with him now. He didn’t even have to look at the keys, he was just looking at me. And he seemed slightly surprised, like someone who has just made an unexpected discovery. Maybe that the moon was a she?
“All alone in the moonlight I can dream of the old days,” I sang, just for him. This salon had great acoustics; it was almost as if I were singing into a mike. Or else it was because no one was making a sound. “Let the memory live again.” This was much more fun than playing SingStar. It was really, really great. And even if the whole thing was just a lovely dream and Cynthia’s father was about to march into the room and kick up an almighty row, this moment was worth it.
No one would ever believe me.
Time ain’t nothin’ but time.
It’s a verse with no rhyme.
Man, it all comes down to you.
BON JOVI, “NEXT 100 YEARS”
ELEVEN
THE ONLY STUPID THING was that it’s such a short song. I was tempted to make up another verse of my own, but that might have just spoiled the general good impression, so I didn’t. Instead, a little regretfully, I sang my favorite lines—“If you touch me, you’ll understand what happiness is. Look, a new day has begun”—and thought, yet again, that the song couldn’t have been specially written for Cats. Maybe it was the punch—in fact it was certainly the punch—but the guests at this soirée seemed to like our performance just as much as the earlier Italian operatic arias. At least, they applauded enthusiastically, and while Lady Brompton hurried forward, I bent down to Gideon and said, meaning it, “Thank you! That was really nice of you! And you play so well!”
He leaned his head on his hand again, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done.
Lady Brompton hugged me, and Mr. Merchant kissed me exuberantly on both cheeks, called me his “golden-voiced charmer,” and demanded an encore.
I was in such a good mood that I would have launched right into one, but at this point Gideon came back to life, stood up, and grabbed my wrist. “I’m sure Andrew Lloyd Webber would be delighted to know that you already appreciate his music here, but my sister has to rest. Until last week, she was suffering from a nasty throat infection, and now, on medical advice, she has to spare her voice—or she might lose it forever.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” cried Lady Brompton. “Why didn’t you say so before? The poor girl!”
I was happily humming “I Feel Pretty,” out of West Side Story.
“There certainly is something special about your punch,” said Gideon. “I think it tempts us to throw caution to the winds.”
“To be sure it does!” said Lady Brompton, beaming all over her face. Lowering her voice, she went on, “You’ve just revealed the secret of my success as a society hostess. All London envies us our famous parties. People scramble for invitations. But it took me years to perfect the recipe, and I don’t intend to give it away until I’m on my deathbed.”
“What a pity,” I said. “But you’re right. Your soirée is so much more fun than I expected! I was told it would be a boring, stiffly correct—”
“Her governess is rather conservative,” Gideon interrupted me. “And it can indeed be said that social life in Derbyshire is a little behind the times.”
Lady Brompton giggled. “Dear me, yes, I’m sure it is. Oh, here’s Lord Alastair at last!” She looked at the doorway, where Lord Brompton was welcoming a new arrival. His guest was probably middle-aged (difficult to be sure because of his snow-white wig), and he wore a frock coat so heavily embroidered with little stones and glittery thread that from a distance it seemed to sparkle. The glittery effect was enhanced by the contrast with his companion, a man dressed entirely in black who stood beside him. He was wrapped in a black cloak, he had pitch-black hair and an olive complexion, and even from some way off, I could see that his eyes, just like Rakoczy’s, resembled huge dark holes. He was like some foreign body in this colorful company flashing its jewels around.
“I was just thinking,” Lady Brompton told me, “that Alastair wasn’t going to give us the honor of his company today. Which wouldn’t have been entirely disastrous, if you ask me. His presence doesn’t usually contribute much to a relaxed, cheerful atmosphere. I’ll try to persuade him to take a glass of punch and then show him where they’re playing cards in the next room.…”
“And we will try to cheer him with a little singing,” said Mr. Merchant, sitting down at the piano again. “Would you do me the honor, Lady Lavinia? Something from Così Fan Tutte?”
Gideon placed my hand on his arm and led me a little way aside. “How much have you drunk, for heaven’s sake?”
“A couple of glasses,” I admitted. “I’m sure the secret ingredient isn’t alcohol. Absinthe, maybe? Like in that sad film Moulin Rouge with Nicole Kidman.” I sighed. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. I bet you can play that, too.”
