Miss Flora struggled through it, and the difference between the two performances was clear in the faltering applause that followed. The young lady took her bows and hurried to her seat with cheeks burning scarlet, and though Katherine was not one for embracing strangers, she longed to give the poor young lady one.
“I do not know why some people insist on performing when they haven’t the talent,” murmured a voice from behind Katherine.
Spinning in her seat, she glared at the pair of ladies, but they gawked at Katherine as though the rudeness was all hers. Though she longed to say something to them, there was little point in it. Especially when the person to her left nudged Katherine in the ribs, drawing her attention to the empty stage.
Her time of reckoning had arrived, and as she stood and moved to the piano, a smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t alter what had happened, but that didn’t mean she was powerless to help.
Chapter 20
Who in the blazes had organized the program? David cursed the person—likely their ridiculous hostess, Mrs. Garrison—to Hades as he watched his sister take her seat. Anger flared in his chest as she refused to lift her gaze from the ground, though it was probably for the best that Flora was seated on the other side of the room, for he longed to put his arm around her, which would embarrass her further. But that would be better than doing nothing. Or pummeling Mrs. Garrison, which was unlikely to make Flora feel better.
What had she been thinking, placing Mrs. Turley so early in the program?
“The poor dear,” murmured Mrs. Ellery, her brow furrowing as she shifted her gaze from Flora to David. “That is one of the many reasons I do not like performing in public.”
David ground his teeth together and forced himself to smile as though nothing were amiss. The evening would conclude quickly enough, and then he could sneak his sister home. No doubt there were biscuits or cake or some sweet sitting around the pantry. Heaven knew David could use a treat as well.
His discomfort doubled when Miss Leigh came to the front of the room, her chin held high as she took her place at the piano. Her gaze met his for the briefest moment, but when he nodded, she gave no sign of recognition. Logic said that she was simply focusing on her music, but David couldn’t help but feel she was dismissing him.
Which made his heart pang.
Despite his visits to Whitley Court, Miss Leigh was never about. Always occupied. And though it had only been a sennight since he’d seen her last, it felt far longer. David didn’t know why he’d begun spending so much time with her, but she’d become a constant in his life. And now, rather than look pleased as their reunion, Miss Leigh seemed unaffected.
No, that was a bit of foolishness. He’d been busy with work, and she had been occupied with the concert. Entirely understandable.
David shifted in his seat and forced himself to still as the lady raised her hands to the keys.
The song began simply, halting and sputtering like a rusty music box, moving through the softer introduction and growing into the transition. When her fingers tripped, Miss Leigh stopped, pulling her hands from the keyboard. The audience straightened and raised their hands as though to clap, but Miss Leigh started from the very beginning with the same gusto as before.
Though David was no connoisseur of music, even his uncultured ears thought the piece was dreadful. At one point, it sounded as though she was stuck in a loop, forever playing the same measures again and again, as though she couldn’t remember how the piece transitioned into the next section.
Mrs. Ellery fidgeted at his side, and David glanced at her. The lady didn’t go so far as to wince, but her smile was pained as their gazes met. Tittering laughter echoed behind him, and he cast a look over his shoulder to see Miss Lyons pressing a hand to her mouth, her eyes alight with mockery as others around her fought hard to keep their laughter to themselves.
And that clarified one question, for he had no interest in anyone who would treat his friend in such a manner. Mystery Lady or not.
David’s brow furrowed as he watched her falter to a stop once more. Lifting her hands from the keys, she paused, and just as someone hazarded a clap, she launched back into the piece, beginning over again. Though he didn’t have his pocket watch on him at present, David would wager she’d stretched out this three-minute piece into a full ten, and she was still not finished.
What was happening? Miss Leigh had practiced far too many times to play this poorly. Her actions all seemed genuine as she faltered through the piece, but David couldn’t believe it.
But as quickly as he posed the question, the answer sprang to his thoughts, filling him with such clarity that his heart burned. This was no accident or byproduct of nerves. With one ungainly and loud performance, Miss Leigh guaranteed that the focus of everyone’s laughter and pity would be herself—not Flora.
Gooseflesh rose along his neck, traveling down his spine as he watched Miss Leigh serve herself up as a sacrifice to the vengeful gods of society. The lady was truly magnificent.
*
Mistakes were simple things. Usually. Unpreparedness and anxiety were a potent combination, making it easy for musicians (however skilled) to fail.
With Katherine’s dedication to practice, the former was never the issue. The latter was another matter altogether, for her nerves manifested itself by leaving Katherine’s hands weak and shaking (a most inconvenient habit to have when playing the piano). However, unease only arose from a desire to do one’s best, which was the opposite of her intent at this moment.
For once, Katherine was quite calm and composed as she made her way through the piece. Enough so that it was quite difficult to mangle the music.
One of the main objectives of practice was to train one’s hands to play without thinking; it was as though the very muscles memorized the piece, moving on their own and hitting each note to perfection. Once instilled, it was difficult to break the habit. Even intentionally. Which was the precise reason why musicians dedicated so much time to playing a song again and again: the less one had to think about the notes themselves, the more they could dedicate themselves to the musicality of the piece.
Unfortunately, Katherine had chosen this particular Mozart piece as it required little in the way of dynamics. The sound did range from the softest pianissimo to the booming forte, but the skill of the piece involved dexterity and speed, rather than artistry.
In short, it was a piece perfectly suited for Katherine’s skill, and she’d taught her hands too well.
Finally, a sour note was struck, and she seized upon the opportunity. Pausing, she returned to the beginning of the piece, starting from the very first measure. But that wasn’t enough to leave an impression. Which was how she found herself repeating the same line of music several times over. As songs often repeated previous melodies and themes, it was simple enough to repeat the measures, playing in an endless loop.
