Page 98 of Doxy for the Ton
“Not to any degree of proficiency,” Mimi said.
“Few people in this room, save our hostess, would be able to distinguish between a beautifully played Bach piece and my daughter’s screams when she’s demanding her supper,” Lady Radham said.
“That’s very true,” Eleanor said. “I have no ear at all.”
“Ah, butyourtalent lies in your pencil,” her husband said.
“Montague, my love, I’ve told you before not to flatter me.”
“But your husband is right to do so in this instance,” Lady Radham said. “I saw your latest portrait of Lady Rex. It’s exquisite.”
“Portrait?” Alexander asked. “What portrait?”
“It was drawn in your absence, Your Grace,” Lady Radham said. “Believe it or not, some women can function perfectly well without any gentlemen present.”
“Juliette,” Eleanor said, her voice a harsh whisper, and Mimi suppressed a smile at the stricken expression in Alexander’s eyes.
The guests quieted as their host and hostess entered the room. Westbury and his son took their places on the front row, while the duchess stood beside the musicians to welcome the company, before she sat at the pianoforte and the music began.
The guests stilled as the gentle melody of Bach’s aria filled the air, elegant in its simplicity. Then the duchess began to play the variations, toying with the melody, adding richness and flavor to the music.
“She’s a true proficient, is she not?” Eleanor whispered. “An excellent choice to change the program for tonight.”
“The duchess did not intend to play the Bach?” Mimi asked.
“Her favored piece is a Mozart sonata. But I understand her husband asked her to make a change, on the insistence of a friend.” She gestured toward Alexander.
Mimi glanced at the man next to her, whose eyes sparkled with delight.
“You?” she asked.
He nodded, and a slight hint of pink colored his cheeks. Surely he wasn’t blushing?
“I promised you’d enjoy tonight,” he whispered, “and I’ve no wish to break any promise I make to you.”
“Alexander, I—”
“Hush,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “Much as I enjoy hearing my name on your lips, I wouldn’t want you to miss the music.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers.
Mimi relaxed into her seat as the music filled her senses, letting her gaze wander about the room. Almost every guest was rapt in concentration, except one couple where the husband seemed to be struggling to keep awake. He’d stare toward the front, wide-eyed, then his eyelids would droop until they closed, and his head would nod forward onto his chest. Then the woman next to him would poke his ribs, issue a sharp word in his ear, and the process would repeat.
Clearly not everyone was a lover of music.
Smiling to herself, Mimi glanced about the rest of the guests, until her gaze fell upon a man who looked familiar.
The woman at his side, whom Mimi recognized as Lady Elizabeth De Witt, stared straight ahead, a bored expression on her face. Then she curled her lip in a sneer and leaned toward him to speak. He turned to respond, and Mimi’s gut twisted in revulsion.
It was Ralph—Earl Mayhew.
She suppressed a cry as his pale-gray eyes met her gaze. The music faded into nothingness, replaced by that familiar hated voice, declaring her a whore and issuing the order to toss her out onto the street. Cold fingers clawed at her insides.
“Lady Rex?”
She startled at the voice, and looked up to see Lady Radham standing before her.
“Forgive me, do you mind?” The woman held a sheet of music to her breast.
Mimi glanced about. Most of the guests were staring at her—what had she done?
