Page 82 of Doxy for the Ton
Mimi smiled. “Are you fond of Bach, Mr. Drayton?”
“M-my stepmother is an accomplished pianist,” he said. “B-but she’s not here tonight, otherwise I’d ask her to play for you.”
“You’re very kind,” Mimi said, smiling at the young man. “What I love about Bach is that his work is honest. It consists of a series of straightforward chords and progressions, brought together in various combinations to create a melody. Unlike the more expressive works such as those of Beethoven, for example, Bach’s works must be played with accuracy.”
“Surely all music must be played with accuracy?” Lord Thorpe asked. A ripple of discomfort threaded through Mimi as his eyes darkened, focusing on her.
Did he think she spoke nonsense? Or perhaps he considered himself an authority on Bach.
“Music must, of course, be played with accuracy,” she said. “But an artist can disguise their lack of technique with an excess of emotion in their playing when performing the work of artists such as Beethoven, and even Mozart. However, when a musician plays Bach, the slightest technical stumble is more easily spotted—even by the untrained ear.”
Lord Thorpe tilted his head to one side, and Mimi’s skin tightened with apprehension as he regarded her thoughtfully.
“Yes—that’s it,” he said, as if to himself. “A friend of my late mother held just such a view. Is that not extraordinary?”
“Not really,” Mimi replied. “Doubtless each composer will have his own group of devotees. Bach’s works are extremely popular on the Continent.”
“Does your late mother’s friend play, Lord Thorpe?” Lady Portia asked.
“Sadly, she is no longer with us,” he replied. “I never met her, but Mother spoke of her once. She passed some years ago, when I was child—in a shipwreck, if I recall.”
A shipwreck…
“What extraordinary tales you tell, Thorpe!” Sir Heath said. “Are you trying to impress the ladies?”
“Not at all,” Thorpe replied. “Neither Lady Rex nor Lady Portia strike me as being susceptible to flattery or tales. And I hardly think Lady King’s passing is a subject for discussion when a man is trying to impress a woman with whom he wishes to dance. If a man wishes to partner a woman, then he ought to do as young Mr. Drayton has, and simply ask her. Is that not right, Lady Rex?”
Lady King…
Cold fingers clawed at Mimi’s gut, and her chest constricted.
“I…”
The world slipped sideways as she opened her mouth and gasped for breath. Then Lord Thorpe’s concerned face swam into view.
“Are you well, Lady Rex?”
Mimi swayed sideways, then she felt Lady Portia’s arm slip through hers.
“It must be the heat of the ballroom,” Lady Portia said. “Did you see poor Miss Francis swoon earlier? I felt a little unsteady myself just then.”
“Perhaps it comes from standing too long in one spot,” Mr. Drayton said. “I’m sure dancing would restore your spirits, Lady Rex.”
Mimi couldn’t help smiling at his eagerness.
“Drayton, I hardly think it’s seemly to drag a woman onto the dance floor when she’s unwell,” Sir Heath scoffed.
“I’m quite well,” Mimi said, “and I believe a dance with Mr. Drayton is just what I need.”
Lord Thorpe frowned, his gaze fixed on her, and opened his mouth to respond.
“I must say I admire the cut of our hostess’s gown,” Mimi said. “That color suits her complexion perfectly, do you not agree, Lord Thorpe?”
“All gowns look the same to me,” he said, a note of disdain in his voice. “Though I daresay the modistes and their patronesses would disagree, so eager are they to see men such as myself part with our cash.”
“Then I trust, for your wife’s sake, that she has simple tastes,” Mimi said.
“She has an eye for color, at least,” came the reply. “Which is more than can be said for many of the ladies tonight. Take Miss Francis, for example—I’m sure her modiste has assured her of the benefits of wearing that particular shade of pink, but against it, her face has paled into nothingness.”
