Page 82 of Her Whole Heart
“I think perhaps the guitar does not really fit,” she said. “But then we are back to the same problem of having too many to play the pianoforte.”
“Diana is a better player than me,” Amelia announced. “It is no difficulty for me to sit out.”
“But you have a lovely singing voice,” Jane reminded her. “Perhaps once we have the instruments worked out, we can work on lyrics.”
Elizabeth shook her head anxiously at her sister. Amelia loved making up limericks. They were not inappropriate, but neither were they good, and she would never allow an opportunity like this to pass.
Amelia smiled. “Yes, let us do that. Here, Diana, you take my place, and I shall compose some words.”
Jane met Elizabeth’s gaze with a contrite wince.
“Now you play, all of you, and I shall improvise,” Amelia said.
“You are brilliant, Amelia!” Georgiana said. “Thank you!”
“Do not thank her yet,” Elizabeth muttered.
Amelia turned her gimlet eyes on Elizabeth. “What was that, Lizzy?”
“Nothing at all, dear.”
“Hmm.” Amelia’s expression was the same as her little cousins, the Gardiner children, when they were about to sneak into the kitchen to pilfer biscuits.
The music began, better this time, though it still broke down in places.
“There once was a lady named Jane,” Amelia began, and Jane blushed to the roots of her hair.
“Who was quite the opposite of plain.”
Elizabeth snorted. Amelia tapped her chin with a finger. “She played the harp well, but it was difficult to tell, because her sister’s flute was a pain!”
“I beg your pardon?” Elizabeth asked in mock affront, lowering the flute. “If my playing is painful, perhaps you should like to try?” She held out her flute, and Amelia held up her hands, laughing.
“I only needed a rhyme for plain!”
“What about crane or main or stain or complain? That you could not arrive at another rhyme is the true pain here.”
“It is not!”
Georgiana appeared alarmed until both Amelia and Elizabeth began to laugh. Amelia quickly took advantage of the lull and began to sing, in a more than creditable mezzo-soprano that seemed at odds with her words.
“There once were six musical maids, whose melodies never would fade. Their harmonies soared, the gentlemen roared, and their critics were left quite dismayed!”
She ended with a flourish and a deep curtsy while the room erupted in giggles and playful jeers. Elizabeth wiped tears from her eyes.
“How do you do that so quickly?” Georgiana inquired.
“Yes, were she a man she could make up any number of excellent tavern songs,” Cordelia said drily.
Amelia waggled her eyebrows at Cordelia and then turned back toGeorgiana and shrugged theatrically. “It is a blessing and a curse.”
“Well,” Diana said from her spot at the pianoforte, “shall we begin again?”
It took nearly two hours of practice, but their playing did improve, the notes beginning to weave together in a more harmonious composition. Georgiana had created a whimsical tune, and though Elizabeth still struggled with her part, she realised there would be no way around it—she would have to master it, for Georgiana had given the flute a position of great importance in the score. Sometimes, she thought with a sigh, it was rather inconvenient to be a good friend. But Georgiana was such a darling girl Elizabeth did not wish to disappoint.
When they had finished both their practice and the tea that Amelia had brought up for them, Georgiana mentioned Lady Morgan’s ball and expressed an interest in seeing her friends’ evening gowns.
“My brother told me that the three of you are to have new ones,” she said, her enthusiasm only growing as she spoke of it. “I do not suppose I could see them?”
