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I do agree with you regarding your disappointment with Patricia’s debut year. But have you noticed that this sort of thing happens more and more? I find that girls are not shot off until their second or even third year, so I would counsel you…

19 January 1816

The London Times: Music on the Town

The Quaker Girl’s popularity continues. On Wednesday last it was necessary to throw open disengaged boxes to the public, in order to accommodate the crowds demanding admission. This opera is widely regarded as the finest work of Earl Godwin, and the most exquisite example of opera buffo yet produced on the English stage. There are those who compare it more than favorably with works of Mozart. Lord Godwin’s vocal music appears to us not only of a high rank, but of a different order from that of almost every other composer. We venture with some diffidence to characterize it, in order to record the impressions we receive from it, by saying that he expresses passion, and excites sympathy in his viewers, in a manner not seen by us for many years. The waltz scene, of course, continues to be a popular favorite; evidence of which can be seen in the fact that in recent weeks Lady Sally Jersey has allowed this waltz, and this waltz only, to be danced at Almack’s.

22 January 1816

Rees Holland, Earl Godwin, to his brother St. Mary’s Church, Beverley, in the North Country

Dear Tom,

Things are all right here. Yes, the opera appears to have been a success. Helene’s waltz has created an enormous sensation and is being danced all over London. I’m glad to hear you both are well. I miss you, old sobersides that you are. Rees.

25 January 1816

Miss Patricia Hamilton to Lady Prunella Scottish, née Forbes-Shacklett

Dear Prunes,

I’m so glad to hear that you are back from your wedding trip, and believe me, I want to hear about every moment. My mama is convinced that I shall end up an old maid, so I must needs hear of your exploits before I wither on the vine. On that front (although I tell you this, obviously, in the strictest confidence), I have received several billet-doux from Lord Guilpin! We danced several times during the season, but I didn’t think he was in the least interested in me. But then we met quite by accident while riding in the Park and since then…I know I should not be accepting correspondence, but it is too, too delicious…At any rate, Prunes, I am not quite so distraught as my mama over the possibility of my withering on the vine, as you can imagine.

We just came up to London to see a performance of Earl Godwin’s new opera, The Quaker Girl. My mother was positively galvanized with curiosity; everyone is talking of the piece. There is a waltz in Act Two that is the most romantic piece of music I’ve ever heard. I thought I might faint, and my mother turned quite pink! You must go to the opera the very first chance that you…

28 January 1816

Rees Holland, Earl Godwin, to Helene Holland, Countess Godwin, delivered by her maid

If you come to the music room, I have something I want to show you.

Rees

28 January 1816

Helene Holland, Countess Godwin, to Rees Holland, Earl Godwin, delivered by a footman

I’ve had a visit from Doctor Ortolon. Do you think that Star of Bethlehem blooms in September?

Your wife

28 January 1816

The Butler’s Daybook, as kept by Mr. Leke

That hamhanded footman James, the one I hired last week, was knocked over by Lord Godwin when his lordship exited rather rapidly from the music room and dashed up the stairs. James insists that his wrist is sprained.

Epilogue

Five Years Later…

A Small Hunting Lodge

Belonging to Earl Godwin

Rees was tired. He and Helene had stayed up half the night, playing around with a bagatelle for four hands, and now he was trying to compose a letter to Snuffle at the Royal Italian Opera House that would explain why he didn’t plan to write an opera for next year’s season. He and Helene were—he paused and cocked an ear. Far off down the sunny stretches of lawn, he heard a faint shriek of laughter. And then a call from his wife. “Rees! The river!”

Without a second’s pause, Rees shoved back his chair and started running. Laughter that bright and that mischievous meant only one thing: little Viscount Beckford had managed to escape his nanny and his mama again, and was heading for the stream at the bottom of the garden. The river barely topped Rees’s ankles; it was more of a rivulet than a river. But the danger was there.