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“That is not what I meant,” she said.
“I know, but it is the best I can do for the present,” he said. Blast, but he was sure he was bleeding internally now.
“What can I do?” she asked, searching his eyes much too closely. “For you?”
“You have already done more than you know,” he said. He ran his finger down her cheek. “Dear Rebecca, I must leave you now, but I shall return this evening.”
She nodded.
Exerting all the power he had remaining within him, he rose and walked away, leaving her there.
* * *
“In honor of our guest, my new son-in-law, the Duke of Aylesham, and my beloved daughter, the new Duchess of Aylesham, we welcome you this evening and are pleased and gratified to have you join in our celebrations of the new couple.”
Rebecca wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her father speak with such eloquence, but then, he’d never given a speech when a duke was present. He was in fine form.
“I would therefore ask that you raise your glasses to the Duke and Duchess of Aylesham!” Papa continued. “Long life, love, and prosperity to them both!”
“The Duke and Duchess of Aylesham,” the guests replied in unison, their goblets raised in the air.
Rebecca lifted her goblet and joined her voice with the guests’.
So did Ben, who, owing to the fact that he was a titled guest, was sitting near to and across from Rebecca at the main table and was in her direct line of sight. Because of the number of brothers and sisters Rebecca had, including her in-laws, not to mention the genteel members of the village community, the banquet had been set up in the ballroom with multiple tables laid to accommodate everyone. Papa had opened his purse strings wide for the occasion, even hiring additional kitchen help and footmen for it.
Conversation weaved around her, and Rebecca did her best to engage with the family and friends while averting her gaze from Ben, although she was only marginally successful. The times she succumbed, she noted that he seemed busy doing the same as she, although he would catch her glance and avert his eyes at the same time.
Despite all of this, Rebecca managed to down a few mouthfuls of white soup before that course was removed, nibble a small bit of cheese, and poke at the beef and fish and vegetables on her plate during the second course. She managed to keep her fork moving from her plate to her mouth enough as to not draw attention to herself, which was a relief. Hopefully there were enough toasts for the bride and groom and varied conversation to keep everyone distracted from Rebecca’s own private plight.
“I have heard,” the Duke of Aylesham said once the entree course had been removed and the dessert courses brought out, “that my new sister—the youngest one,” he clarified, “is something of a prodigy at the pianoforte.”
Rebecca groaned inwardly. It wasn’t that she minded performing for people so much as her current state of mind—
“I can vouch for that,” Ben said. “I have rarely heard a performance so moving as the one to which I was privy shortly after Miss Jennings’s unfortunate accident.”
“Then I must beg you, little sister, to allow me the privilege of hearing you perform sometime before we return to London.”
“Why not this evening?” someone farther down the table asked. Rebecca turned with alarm to see who might have said it and determined that it had been her brother James, who had returned from Town the day before the celebration. “I have yet to hear my talented little sister perform since arriving home. I cannot be the only one who would find it a lovely addition to this evening’s activities.”
“James—” Rebecca began.
“What a splendid idea!” someone said, and others in the room began to add their general approval of the suggestion as the word spread. Rebecca wished she could club her new brother-in-law over the head, duke or no, for mentioning her pianoforte playing with so many people present. Her music teacher, Mr. Burnhope, however, nodded and looked pleased from his place at the neighboring table.
There was no getting out of it now.
“Very well,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too begrudging.
The duke nodded his thanks to her.
“We shall wait until dessert is cleared,” Papa said, “and then, if everyone is agreeable, we shall remain together rather than have the ladies leave us gentlemen and shall open the partition wall”—he pointed to the wall at the far end of the room that opened onto the music room—“where the pianoforte is located and invite Rebecca to share her musical gifts with you all. Afterward, if there are any others who wish to entertain us, we shall open the invitation for them too.”
“How lovely!” Delia exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “I know I should love to do a small recitation from Shakespeare, if everyone is amenable.”
The few bites of supper Rebecca had eaten had congealed in her stomach during the conversation, and much too soon, the footmen were removing the dessert course and other footmen were dispatched to open the partition wall. What was there in her repertoire that would be appropriate for such an occasion? Something serious? Something light? A hymn? A ballad? A folk tune?
A footman stood behind her, his hands on the back of her chair, ready to assist her from her seat and hand her the crutches. She rose and glanced about. Mr. Burnhope, always the supporting teacher, nodded his encouragement once more. And Ben—
Ben’s eyes, although fixed upon her, were unfathomable and told her nothing.
