They were a splendid couple, both exceptionally good-looking and born into this lifestyle. It made me feel even more out of place.
I couldn’t think of a single song I knew by heart, though I was certain I had known plenty before this moment. There had to be at least one Christmas carol I could recall. Perhaps “O Little Town of Bethlehem” would please the room?
I opened my mouth to begin singing, but the words stuck. Sweat gathered along my back and across my forehead.
I met Alec’s steady gaze, and he nodded with encouragement.
Taking a deep breath, I started to sing, but it wasn’t “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” Instead, an old Irish ballad Uncle Charlie had sung slipped out of my mouth. I was so nervous, I hadn’t realized it. I just wanted to be done, to get it over with, so I could sit down and let someone else stand in this terrifying place.
“O father dear, I oft-times hear you talk ofErin's Isle, Her lofty scenes and valleys green, her mountains rude and wild. They say it is a pretty place wherein a prince might dwell. And why did you abandon it, the reason to me tell.”
There were curious glances all around, but no one seemed alarmed that I had chosen an Irish ballad. Maybe they were happy it wasn’t another Christmas carol, which they’d been listening to all day.
I couldn’t remember the lyrics until they were coming out of my mouth, but I let my memory work for me as I continued.
“My son, I loved our native land with energy and pride, Until a blight came on my land, my sheep and cattle died. The rent and taxes were to pay, I could not them redeem, And that's the cruel reason why I left old Skibbereen.”
A few of the matrons frowned, but I lifted my gaze so I wouldn’t have to look at them and pressed on to complete my task.
“Oh, it’s well I do remember that bleak December day, The landlord and the sheriff came to drive us all away. They set my roof on fire with their demon yellow spleen, And that's another reason why I left old Skibbereen.”
As the words came out of my mouth, I slowly began to realize that perhaps they weren’t appropriate for this parlor—or these people—and the more nervous I became, the more pronouncedmy accent became, too. But it was too late to stop now, so I started the next verse.
“Your mother, too, (God rest her soul) lay on the snowy ground. She fainted o’er in anguish with the desolation round. She never rose, but passed away from life to immortal dream, And found a quiet grave, my boy, in dear old Skibbereen.”
Aunt Maude’s mouth fell open—terror on her face now, too.
There were several more verses, but they didn’t get much better, so I simply let my voice trail away.
Silence filled the room as everyone stared at me. The heat from the candles made the sweat drip down my corseted back and the cloying scent of pine made my stomach turn. All I could think about was racing out of that room and running back to Five Points, where I knew my place—even if it wasn’t a pleasant one.
But then Alec began to laugh—a hearty sound that filled the space with so much mirth, others began to chuckle.
“How clever, Clara,” Alec said. “What a unique and entertaining song. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve heard them all—but this was a new one for me. Well done.”
There were several heads nodding in agreement, and I knew I had a choice to make. I could either run from the room weeping, as I wanted—or I could pretend it had all been a gag. Something to make people laugh.
I had no choice but to do the latter—so I started to laugh with them, though I knew Aunt Maude would not be laughing with us.
The house was quiet as I stood in the front parlor hours later, watching the snow falling on the side lawn. Behind me, the wall sconces were dim, and the candles were still burning on the tree.Aunt Maude had excused the footman after all the guests had departed, though I knew he was only a bell pull away. No one was ever truly out of Aunt Maude’s beck and call.
“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to turn around and look at Aunt Maude or Alec, knowing I had disappointed them. “I don’t know what came over me. I panicked.”
“I detest excuses,” Aunt Maude said, her voice cool. “If Alec had not lightened the mood, everyone would be talking about it tomorrow. Rumors would swirl about your origins and people would begin looking deeper. Your enemies would have ammunition, and your reputation would be ruined.”
I had enemies?
“It was a simple mistake,” Alec said. “She was nervous. She should not have been asked to sing tonight.”
“I did not ask Miss Wellington to call on Clara. If I could have stopped it, I would.”
“You could have stopped it,” he said.
“Perhaps you should speak to Miss Wellington about improper behavior. She and you seem to be experts on the issue.”
Silence followed her words, and I peeked over my shoulder to see Alec’s response.
He was standing next to the hearth, his arm on the mantel, as he stared down into the flames.
