Page 15 of A Symphony for the Earl

“I’ll confide a secret—it’s rather useless to cross Richard. He always has his way. It’s inescapable.”

“How do you bear it?”

She laughed. “Oh, he is mostly fair in his decisions. My brother can be impatient and high-handed and he forgets to have a sense of humor at times. He demands perfection of himself and others, and I often wonder if that’s not the source of his headaches.”

Fiona agreed wholeheartedly with her assessment but decided to change the subject.

“Do you have a piano in your home, Valentina?”

“Why, yes. Do you play? Mama had Richard buy the thing, hoping Octavia and I might become proficient, but neither of us developed the aptitude. Or the desire. It just sits and that is a shame.”

“I’ve played the piano since I was five years old, and three years ago, I was accepted into the Dublin Music Conservatory.”

“Oh, my. I didn’t know women were allowed to attend a place like that. You must be very good, and I can’t wait to hear you play something for us. Please use it as much as you like.”

“Your brother won’t mind? I have missed practicing so much. I’ll try not to disturb anyone.”

“There is no worry. Our so-called music room is at the back of the house. It’s a second drawing room we rarely occupy. My futile attempts to play never disturbed anyone. Richard played briefly as a boy. He loves music.”

“Really?”

“Yes. As I understand, he had quite an aptitude.”

“Do you think I could bring a small trunk of music to the room?”

“There is a corner that will be perfect. I’ll have Hansen see to it. Will you play for us today? Mama will be thrilled to discover your talent.”

“If the piano has not been played for a long time, it might need tuning.”

“I’m sure Hansen can make an appointment for that.” She rose, shaking out her skirt. “I’ll go see if Mama is about yet and let her know about it. She meets with Mrs. Talbot, our housekeeper, first thing in the morning, then does her correspondence.” Valentina paused in the doorway. “And we will visit Madame Brigitte. Shopping is one of my favorite pastimes, I’m embarrassed to admit. You will come with us tonight, won’t you? Lady Sefton is one of Almack’s most influential patronesses.”

“A poetry reading?” Fiona asked doubtfully. “And what is Almack’s?”

“It’s a wonderful place for assemblies. We attend a weekly ball there on Wednesday evenings during the Season. But that is an entirely new conversation. Tonight will be a treat, I promise. Do you enjoy poetry? Lord Byron’s latest poem has just been published, and it is quite the rage. Rumor has it that he will be there tonight to read. But I must go find Mama. I’ll send Betty to tell you what time we leave to visit the modiste.”

Left alone, Fiona decided to search out the music room. In the corner by the fireplace, she was amazed to see a full-size Broadwood piano. A Broadwood!

She lifted the lid and sat on the polished oak bench. The first chords she played told her it was badly out of tune. Unfortunately, there was nothing to do but wait for a tuner.

Madame Brigitte’s establishment was a short carriage ride away. Fiona tried not to gawk through the window, but it was impossible. They traveled along the perimeter of Hyde Park, and she watched the parade of fashionable figures, carriages, and groups of riders moving through the manicured grounds. The Merrick landau was done in black and silver to match the livery and pulled by two showy bay horses.

When they arrived at the modest brick townhouse on the corner of Bruton Street, they were one of two carriages on the curb. Noon was still early for most members of the ton. A footman helped them down to the street, while the driver remained on his perch, reins in hand. Valentina led the way into the shop.

Once inside, Fiona was dazzled by the sheer number of bolts and piles of fabric stacked in cabinets along the walls. Madame Brigitte, a petite woman just past her youth, hurried to meet them. Her costume was a beautifully cut black wool frock, and she wore a necklace of lustrous pearls over the simple bodice.

“Ah, my dear Lady Merrick and the lovely Miss Merrick! Bonjour! It is always my pleasure to welcome you to 35 Bruton. Marie, put the closed sign on the door, s’il vous plait.”

“You are looking well, Brigitte…I hope you do not work too hard.” Lady Amelia handed the waiting attendant her traveling cloak and muff.

“Bah! The work, it never stops, but that is good, eh? And how is my kind benefactor, your son, the earl? Bah, he is always busy, that one. Too busy to visit here, I know.”

Madame Brigitte glanced over at Fiona, and her shrewd eyes took in the frock, hat, shoes, and gloves, assessing everything in a way that made Fiona which she had kept her challis wrap. “I see you have brought a friend?”

“His Lordship sends his regards. He keeps himself so busy I scarcely see him. This is Miss Rafferty. She is my son’s ward, newly arrived from Dublin. This is her first visit to London, and also her first Season among the ton.”

Brigitte nodded. “Ah, je vois. So we must outfit her superbemont. Such a thing will be my pleasure. You have the figure to wear wonderful clothes, ma chére. Come!”

Hours later, Fiona still stood in her chemise, surrounded by fabric, trim, and lace. Everything from worsted to serge, velvets, taffeta, and sarsenet to satins in varying hues and patterns. She had been poked, prodded, and measured until she thought she might scream. Brigitte and her assistants made much of her “coloration vive” and extolled praise upon her “silhouette élégante.”