“Oh yes, I find it enjoyable,” she answered mechanically. Lady Louisa touched the duke’s sleeve with her gloved hand, and Lucy gripped her knife.
Mr Fridolin loaded his fork with string beans. “I mean beyond the occasional drawing room lullaby or amateurish piano recital. I’m a great fan of music, particularly opera. And the concerts are a delight. Ah, Vienna. The music there is incomparable. Beethoven, for example. Though I understand the mediocre ear might consider his music to be rather incomprehensible.” No doubt he expected Lucy to have such a mediocre ear.
“I am acquainted with his music.”
Fridolin smiled knowingly. “Pray, tell me which of his musical compositions is your favourite?”
Sensing he was testing her, Lucy answered carefully. “The Seventh Symphony.”
“You surprise me. I would have expected a more conventional answer from a lady like you. The Moonlight Sonata, perhaps. And which movement would you say is the most pleasing to your ears?”
“The Allegretto is most impressive. I cried the first time I heard it in London.”
“Ah and help my rather rusty old mind. That was which movement?” He looked at her expectantly, setting his fork down.
“The Symphony has four movements. The Allegretto is the second one.” Lucy popped her fork into her mouth.
Fridolin crowed, which caused the heads to turn in their directions. “What an unexpected delight to encounter a young person as yourself to be so well conversant in music. You have received a most excellent musical education, I gather? With a private tutor?”
“At Miss Hilversham’s Seminary in Bath. Yes, she engaged only the best teachers for us. My teacher was Herr Hildebrand. He was from Vienna, like you.”
“Oh, Lucy is excellent in music. And in geometry,” Arabella spoke up from across the table. “She outdid all of us in those subjects.” Arabella beamed at Lucy, whereby she accomplished what Lucy wanted to avoid: having all attention on her.
“Nonsense, Arabella,” Lucy mumbled. “I remember you were not so bad in arithmetic yourself.”
“What, what. Geometry and young ladies? Is that proper?” Blackmore interjected in between two bites of roast beef.
“Why ever not? My mind is capable of geometry as much as yours.” Lucy frowned.
Blackmore’s eyes lit up at the challenge. “Oho. Let us test that geometric mind of yours, Miss Bell. Tell me. How much is the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter?”
All eyes were on Lucy. She felt only one pair that truly mattered, and sensed, rather than saw, him raise his eyebrow in amused anticipation of an answer. However, Blackmore didn’t give her time to reply. Certain that she didn’t know the answer, he said, “Not many know that the correct answer is 3.14148. Also known as Archimedes constant, represented by the Greek letter pi.” He chuckled and wiped his greasy lips on his napkin.
“3.14159,” Lucy countered.
“Eh?”
“The circle’s circumference to its diameter is a common fraction: 22/7. The correct answer is 3.14159.” Lucy blessed Mr Hobb, who’d made them memorise pi to all five decimal places.
The gentlemen scrambled to calculate in their minds. Arabella was the first to nod at Lucy in agreement.
“Dash it. Is that correct?” Lord Conway gave up.
“She is correct.” The duke’s crisp voice came from the top of the table.
“A lady who is not only conversant in music but also in geometry. How impressive.” Mr Fridolin beamed at Lucy.
Lady Louisa sniffed. “How entirely over-educated. Whatever is the use of knowing that piece of information? One will be mistaken for a bluestocking and be rendered forevermore unmarriageable.”
“I do not see the contradiction. On the contrary. An arithmetical mind might come in useful in a marriage.” Lucy sensed, too late, that she should not have picked up the gauntlet.
“Pray enlighten us, Miss Bell. I am fairly agog to know in what sense an arithmetical mind is useful in a marriage.” This was the languid voice of the duke.
Lucy dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, self-conscious that his eyes were on her lips. “Household accounts.” She shrugged.
“I would have my steward do that.” Lady Louisa looked down her nose. “Or my housekeeper.”
“And who oversees your steward and your housekeeper? Do you do so, Your Grace?”
