said. “He is a sick and lonely man, apparently, but his music soars. It has texture and substance. Bach and Mozart were great, but to me their music is more cerebral. Beethoven’s music touches the emotions. It is about life and hope.”
“I agree,” said Sophie. “I am so glad we are playing this piece.”
They compared Beethoven further to Mozart, Bach, and Scarlatti, talking also about the music scene in London. As far as Sophie was concerned, the time flew by. Before leaving, the Carstairs commended her for her skill and begged her to call them by their first names. Sophie was glad of this as they had been “Joseph” and “Bella” to her since she had met them.
{ 8 }
AFTER LUNCHEON AT BROOK’S , Frank sat before the fire with his legs stretched out in front of him, daydreaming of Sophie. He was smoking a cigar. Shrewsbury sat opposite him.
“Does the lovely Miss Edwards share her sisters’ and aunt’s proclivities for Good Works?” his friend asked.
“She’s an angel. Of course she is interested in Good Works. Then there was that comment she made to Lila.”
“Ah, yes. The one about her Aunt being all that a lady should be, or some such.”
“Yes.” Frank said, studying the glowing tip of his cigar. Though he had been thinking incessantly about his angel, he could not bring himself to discuss the evening before with Shrewsbury.
Shrewsbury lit his own cigar and then drew on it. “No doubt she is a passionate little thing.”
Frank looked from the fire to his friend’s face. “What makes you think so?”
“I can always tell that about a woman by the way she converses. She looks you in the eye. She is earnest. She moves her hands a great deal.”
“Hmm.” Frank considered this. “You should have seen her with her musical friends, if you think she was earnest with you.”
“What’s more,” Shrewsbury continued, “hers is honest passion.”
“Not like Lila’s, you mean?” Frank surveyed his friend with interest.
“Lila is a selfish beast.”
Frank smiled. “Disillusioned?”
“A bit. But we do have an arrangement, nevertheless. However, if you do not have an interest in Miss Edwards …”
“Poaching, are we?” Frank’s idle question hid an anxiety that disturbed him. Shrewsbury was very attractive to women.
His friend smiled. “So you do intend to pursue things. However will you go about it if she doesn’t attend the balls?”
“I am to teach her archery. As soon as I finish smoking this cigar, I am off to locate a women’s bow.”
“Ahh.” Shrewsbury nodded. “What a good idea.”
“Why did you ask if she was interested in Good Works?”
“I’ve an idea for a girl’s school. The Duke and Duchess of Beverley’s project to teach those orphan boys to read is admirable, but what about the girls? As things stand, most of them only qualify for one profession. The oldest one.”
Frank reflected on this surprising observation. No one in today’s society gave a thought to orphan girls. It was as though they were invisible. “Yes, you are absolutely right. Literacy is key for their betterment.”
“I’ve got a building. My servants are cleaning it. Now I’m looking for teachers.”
“Shall I talk to my angel about it? I’m going there later.”
“You are really certain you mean to pursue her?”
“I am, actually.” Never comfortable talking about his feelings, Frank squirmed a bit and sat up straight. “Are you all right for money for this project? I’d be willing to donate.”
“I’ll need books, once I get the teachers. Your help wouldn’t come amiss.”
“And Miss Edwards?”
“Please. Ask her about the project.”
~ ~*
As Frank strode through the streets, he mulled over his conversation with Shrewsbury. If he thought his glorious discovery of Sophie to have given him the edge over other men, he supposed he could forget it. Once she gave her public performance, everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear would glean the