Page 31 of Buon Natale, My Wicked Rogue
Angela took a deep breath and then sighed. She’d been prepared to be upset over the issue. However, on consideration, Lady Wyndam had actually done her a favor in telling Evan’s mother, so that lady could accustom herself to having an opera singer’s daughter for her son’s bride.
“Your mother is a beloved legend in Italy, or so Evan’s mother told me.”
She gave Lady Wyndam a wry smile. “Yes, she is.”
“Were you trained to sing by your mama?”
She fought back a nervous laugh. “Yes, I was.”
“Were you any good?”
“Yes, so I am told.” Some had compared her to her mother. However, they might have simply been flattering her. “But it has been many years since I sang in public.”
“It would be a lovely touch to our ball, but this ball is as much a musicale party as a dancing ball. Before dinner, wehave a display of talents presented by our own members for the pleasure of the other members. It is much like if we went caroling to each other’s homes.”
“You make it all sound so charming and festive.”
“Yes, it is very festive. It puts us all into a Christmas state of mind.”
“I am afraid I would be too out of practice.”
Lady Wyndam touched her arm. “My dear, we will be suffering through a variety of piano and singing performances this evening, for it is our tradition. And we have some fine vocalists and musicians in our group. But too many of these performances will be sadly lacking in any talent or skill, to be totally frank about the matter. You would bring much joy to many of us widows.”
Angela felt quite keen to participate now. “What would you like me to sing, Your Grace?”
“Oh, how delightful! I get to select the song.” Lady Wyndam clapped her hands together. “How aboutCaro Mio Ben, my favorite. Is it suitable for you, my dear?”
“I love Giordani.” And she truly did. She loved singing that aria. But it was one thing to have sung with Evan while she strummed the harp, and he accompanied her on his antique lute. Singing such a demanding song asCaro Mio Benjust might reveal how out of practice she really was. Soon, she’d find out, and so would everyone else. Yet, doing well enough tonight might endear her to others and soften the impact of the scandal of her parentage that was to come.
At least she could hope so.
Chapter Twelve
The village church bells rang as Evan and Angela walked from the dowager house to Whitestone Manor, followed by Lady Wyndam and Lady Barnet and her son, who had been Evan’s best man, and several of the Widows’ League’s inner circle. Lady Wyndam had introduced these ladies to Evan, but to be fair, he’d not remembered their names.
He had eyes only for Angela, who was resplendent in her velvet wedding dress of primrose yellow. The ladies had showered them with rose petals and made some comments that burned even Evan’s ears, a ribald but good-natured chorus of well wishes, some for their happiness, health, and long-life, some for many children, some for their continued financial success and, outrageously, some for Evan’s continued virility.
Then they started with the somewhat bawdy songs, songs from a generation before when King George had been in his heyday and standards regarding carnal activities had been a shade or two more lenient. Someone was even playing a fiddle, and someone else was playing a harmonica and doing a fairly decent job.
Listening to these ladies made them both laugh all the way to the grand estate house. In the ballroom, he had danced with Lady Wyndam since his dear mother was spending time with his uncle in Yorkshire and hadn’t been able to travel to Whitestone Manor for the wedding. He danced with Lady Barnet and someof the other ladies of the Widows’ League’s inner circle. All of their faces and names still remained a blur.
Then the dancers cleared the floor, and he finally danced with Angela.
Now, they were pulling back the curtain on a small, raised stage. He glanced up at where the quartet had sat on a balcony, draped with ivy and holly and white and red roses from the estate hothouses that overlooked the ballroom. The musicians had gone on a break and were now returning. He looked back to where Lady Wyndam and Lady Barnet were leading Angela up onto the stage.
All three ladies were smiling and laughing merrily, though he recognized Angela’s nervousness through her smiles. Lady Wyndam announced her simply as “Lady Ashington, a person of some talent.”
The musicians had settled themselves and began to play the familiar notes ofCaro Mio Ben.
Angela began to sing:
Caro mio ben
Credimi almen
Senza di te
Languisce il cor
