“‘Sweet Remembrance,’” Maureen said. “Although, I don’t think the title fully encompasses the feeling.”
“I agree,” Mira said.
Maureen switched out the sheet music. “This is the piece I’ve been working on. I haven’t quite been able to figure it out, so forgive me if it sounds a little strange.”
Unlike the previous piece, the notes that sprang from the strings of the piano were chaotic and indecipherable. A phrase of musicality surfaced every so often, but just when Mira thought she knew the direction it would go, the notes would change drastically. It was haunting and dissonant. The piece was mostly in the upper register, so there was not much of a second hand line. If this was the piece Maureen had exhibited, it was no wonder those women at the party thought she didn’t play well.
Halfway through she stopped abruptly. “It’s just a jumble of notes. I don’t understand why it doesn’t sound like anything.”
Mira stood and moved to the piano, looking over Maureen’sshoulder. The sheet music was handwritten, the ink blotchy in places. “Where did you get this?”
“It was my father’s,” she said, morose.
“Your father composed that?” Liza said.
Maureen shook her head. “My great-uncle sent it, I think. Father had been practicing it for weeks, but he never made it sound any better than I have. It has just about every conceivable flat and sharp. But no matter how I play it, it never sounds right.”
Mira furrowed her brow. “How strange . . .”
Maureen shrugged and stacked the sheet music up again, placing it back in the folder. “Would either of you like to play?”
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the music room, listening to each other play, and discussing the difficulties of playing the works of different composers. Maureen seemed in much better spirits. Mira was stumbling through her third piece when Hoddle stepped in.
“I do hate to interrupt, but I’m afraid I must steal Miss Harris away. Dr. Turpin is here.”
Maureen frowned. “I didn’t realize he was coming today.”
“I thought after yesterday, shock as it was, it would be prudent to have the good doctor look in on you.”
“I suppose...” Maureen looked at Liza and Mira.
“We probably ought to get home as it is,” Liza said. Mira looked at the clock for the first time in several hours. It was already half past four. She nodded.
“I left the doctor in the front parlor,” Admiral Hoddle said.
Maureen stood, taking Liza’s hands in hers. “It was so good of you to come. Thank you for a wonderful afternoon.”
“Oh, we were happy to.”
“I’ll see them out,” Admiral Hoddle said. “Best not to keep the doctor waiting.”
Maureen nodded and left the room.
“I can’t tell you what good it has done my soul to have the two of you come visit today,” Hoddle said as he escorted them to the door. “So very kind and thoughtful. Miss Harris has gone through such a trying time this past year. It is so very good for her to have friends such as yourselves.”
“It’s the very least we could do,” Liza said. “I’m glad to have her company again. We’ve missed her in London.”
“I’m sure you have, yes,” Hoddle said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “She is such a joy, in spite of the earthly sorrows she has endured. This isn’t the first time she’s been affected by a bout of hysteria, poor girl. I do hope the doctor has some suggestion of what to do to help her endure it.”
“She seemed much recovered today,” Mira said. “It was upsetting for all of us to discover poor Mr. Treadway in such a fashion.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, yes. It is such a tragedy. Poor man. Must have not seen the drop-off with the fog and snow. Such a full life ahead of him, too.” They reached the door and he opened it. “I do hope that you come again. Good day to you both!”
***
They reached Davenguard as the sun wasstarting to set. Mira handed her coat to the butler and followed Liza into the sitting room. Walker and Byron stood as they entered.
Mrs. Renaldi turned. “Oh good, you’re back. How was Miss Harris? I feel so sorry for her, poor thing.”
