Miss Darcy Falls in Love (3 page)

Another gentle nudge from her aunt brought her back to reality. The gap in the reception line ahead of them was wide; Georgiana again flushed as she dropped a brief curtsy and herded the fawning twins away from the amused Englishman. There were a couple of backward glances, Mr. Butler meeting her smile each time, but very soon his form was lost in the surging crowd.

Dance partners were in abundance, for both sexes, so it did not take long for Georgiana to secure gentlemen for every dance in the first sets. When the waltz was called, she glanced about with some trepidation, having not laid eyes on Mr. Butler since the receiving line. But then he was beside her, his pale gray eyes sparkling with mirth as he offered his arm.

They took their places on the polished wooden floor, his touch light as they assumed a proper waltz form. His smile was friendly, putting her at ease.

“I recall seeing you dance the waltz with Colonel Fitzwilliam at the Darcys’ ball two years ago.”

“Therefore you feel secure that I shall not step on your feet?” He chuckled, nodding. Georgiana continued, “My brother taught me, but I fear he will only now waltz with his wife. I must rely upon the charity of others now that my lifelong dance instructor has moved on.”

“I am certain none see it as charity, Miss Darcy.” The music began, Mr. Butler leading into a flawless turn. He waited until the initial steps flowed into a smooth promenade before speaking. “How long have you been touring Europe, Miss Darcy?”

“Since March last. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and my uncle, Dr. Darcy, traveled with us for nearly three months before returning home. We were quite the entourage!”

“I can imagine. But it is most delightful to travel with friends and family, is it not?”

“Very true.”

“Why did the Darcys and Dr. Darcy return home? Did they not wish to see Italy? Surely Mr. Darcy did not fear the rigorous crossing?”

“No,” Georgiana replied as she laughed at his tease, “although my uncle would have flatly refused to ascend into snowcapped trails if Fitzwilliam had suggested it, I assure you. No, they needed to return home prior to the birth of my second nephew.”

“I see. Then congratulations are in order, Miss Darcy. I was unaware of the addition to your family, but then, news of such common nature rarely makes it this far to the east.”

“Thank you, Mr. Butler. It is a joy, naturally, but I fear oddly nebulous to me, since I have not seen him as yet.”

He heard the sadness in her voice, and his tone was comforting as he said, “When shall you return home?”

“April, tentatively. We are meeting my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and his wife in Paris next month. After that we will make our final plans, and I confess to being torn between anxiousness to be home and the delights Paris has to offer.”

“At least you shall be again surrounded by loved ones. It eases the heart, I have found. Until arriving in Lyon for my sister’s wedding, I too have been away from my parents and sisters. At times homesickness has assaulted me.”

She nodded, holding his gaze as they performed the steps automatically. “Are you very close to your sisters?”

“Immensely. I am the eldest with five sisters after me. I know it is rather unattractive, but I do admit to relishing the devotion! They universally adore me as their personal knight in shining armor and I miss the idolization. My ego has taken a hit.”

“Humility is good for us all, Mr. Butler,” she piously intoned, her eyes twinkling. “But I do know what you mean. My brother has been my rock through all of my life and I am extremely close to Mrs. Darcy and my nephew Alexander. It is painful to be so far removed.”

“It is only for a short time, Miss Darcy, even if it seems never ending. Forgive me for spouting off as if a wise older brother, but time away from those we depend upon is usually best for building character and independence. I have discovered this to be true.”

“Yes, indeed, you are correct. You have traveled only with your grandmother, then?”

“From time to time various friends from university have joined me, but I have primarily been accompanied by my grandmother, Lady Warrow. Of course, she appears to be on intimate terms with half of Europe, so I have yet to experience overwhelming loneliness.”

Georgiana chuckled. “I can imagine that is so. I had never met my famous relative until two years ago, at the ball you spoke of, but the tales are numerous.”

“She was likely wisely barred from corrupting Pemberley Estate.” His voice was light, clearly conveying the deep affection he held for his eccentric grandmother.

“Not at all,” she denied with mock scolding. “My uncle has regaled us with stories of visits during his youth, when his father, Lady Warrow’s brother, was yet alive. Unfortunately distances grow greater as time passes.”

“And the Warrow estates are in Somerset. Makes for difficulty in frequent traveling. I am told that my grandmother’s third husband was averse to travel and refused to board a ship. Clearly my grandmother is making up for lost time. Upon occasion she exhausts me with her stamina.” He smiled fondly. “Then, she pretends to be weary, a claim I know to be untrue, and sends me off on a solitary quest for a spell.”

“Is this for your benefit or hers?”

He laughed lightly and executed another beautifully led reverse turn with a fleckerl at the end. Georgiana followed flawlessly, rotating with a swirl of her skirts, catching his waiting arms, and resuming the traditional steps with fluid ease. Mr. Butler grinned, teeth flashing, and inclined his head in approval.

“The truth is,” he resumed their prior discussion, “the point of my trip to Europe has been primarily educational. I confess to shamelessly exploiting my grandmother’s connections in order to study music. She insisted, of course, much to my father’s dismay, but one does not easily argue with Lady Warrow. I owe her more than I can possibly ever repay.” He finished with a gentle tone, moving Georgiana with his clear devotion.

“So this was not the typical Grand Tour?”

Again he laughed, his resonant tones reminding her so much of Fitzwilliam. “Indeed not. I am sure the majority of gentlemen of our class would see me as a tremendous disappointment. Essentially, I am a sedentary individual with minimal wanderlust to cool, and I did not travel to Italy. I would love to, mind you, as I adore art, and opera has such strong roots there. But the call to study with master composers and pianists was far preferable to wasting time in extensive travel.”

Georgiana’s eyes lit up, her breath catching. “The masters? Such as who?”

Mr. Butler noted her intense expression with some surprise, opening his mouth to speak, but the music halted with the final twirl completed. With some reluctance, he let her go, bowing deeply before stepping back a pace. To his further astonishment she bobbed an abstracted curtsy, unconsciously bridging the narrow gap between their bodies.

“Where did you study? With whom? Was it marvelous?” Her eager face was lifted to his, gloved hands clenched by her breast as if in supplication.

He smiled, offering his arm. “Are you thirsty, Miss Darcy? Perhaps a drink and some air while I regale you with stories of Hummel and Moscheles?”

She gasped. “Did you meet… Beethoven?”

“Most impressive, Miss Darcy. Few outside of Germany know these men, let alone that they are friends with Beethoven.”

“Were you serious? About Hummel and Moscheles that is?”

“Indeed, I was serious. However, I must be honest and confess that I was attempting humor and did not anticipate your interest. I rather expected a blank stare and beg your forgiveness for assuming your ignorance. Most young ladies gaze at me as if I have suddenly sprouted an additional head when I veer into ‘music-speak’ as my sisters call it.”

She took the offered glass of punch absently. “No, I am truly intrigued. I have played the pianoforte all my life and adore learning of new compositions, especially those of unique quality. Plus, I find that knowing the background and influence of a composer, what he has endured, or whom he has involved himself with lend an understanding to the piece that aids in performing it. Do you agree?”

“Sometimes, yes. Certainly an artist grows by association and concourse with other artists. I think the truly gifted are blessed with their own intrinsic character, their voice, if you will. Study, experiences, and relationships can inspire and affect, but one must not lose their sense of self, what makes them unique.”

“I recall vividly the compositions you played at my brother’s house in London two years ago, Mr. Butler. Very romantic and cantabile but also strong and audacious. Your work moved me. Has your style been affected by your studies and time abroad?”

“To a degree, I imagine. I like to try my hand at new techniques.” He shrugged, grinning roguishly. “Playing or composing, I am never bored.”

“When I play I try to imagine what the composer was feeling, what he is attempting to convey in the music. This may be difficult in your case, if you scurry all over the place.”

He chuckled. “Have no fear, madam. Music is birthed by the composer, true. And the orchestra will follow the notes and instructions with each conductor placing his mark upon the arrangement. Every listener will interpret and emote singularly. You must allow your personal sentiments to be fed by your life, Miss Darcy. Your playing will thrive exponentially if you seek inward rather than concentrate without.”

“Thank you for the advice, Mr. Butler, but perhaps that is partially the problem. I am twenty and barely stepping beyond the borders of Pemberley. I have no life experiences to draw from.”

“Yet.” He raised his glass in a salute.

“Yet.” She clicked his glass and took a sip of her punch. “In the meanwhile, as I scour the Continent for escapades to broaden myself, will you satisfy my curiosity as promised?”

“Gossip, Miss Darcy? Shall I tell you that Meyerbeer snores louder than any man I have ever encountered and that Giuliani smokes the most disgusting Cuban cigars?”

“Not unless it contributes to their musical thesis.” She smiled, playfully wagging her finger his direction. “Careful, Mr. Butler. Such comments will brand you discriminatory toward the opposite sex. I wish to hear of intellectual theories, your keen observances, the gleaned wisdom of the masters, all of it! The gossip can be covered afterwards,” she finished dryly.

“Again, I accept your conviction of the flaws to my character.” He bowed humbly, face seriously set although the sparkle in his eyes and bubbling amusement in his voice negated the effort. “You frighten me, madam.”

“Me?”

“Indeed. By now you should be running away screaming, or at least searching your numbed mind for a plausible excuse to get as far away as possible. Most people do when I dig too deeply into my craft. There are few of us in this vast world who comprehend the mechanics behind the joy of music.” His tone conveyed amusement but also respect and fascination.

“Sorry to disappoint, sir.”

“I am not disappointed. In fact, this is rather thrilling and to my great advantage.” At her puzzled expression he inclined his head toward two girls who were approaching the isolated corner they had gravitated to. “Wait and bear with me.” He winked at Georgiana and then smoothed his features as he turned to the girls.

“Brother, you promised me a dance!” the youngest proclaimed without preamble, bouncing on her toes.

“Indeed, I did and have not forgotten. But remember your manners, Adele. Allow me to introduce Miss Georgiana Darcy, a relation of ours. Miss Darcy, two of my sisters, Lady Adele and Lady Reine Butler.”

They curtsied, Adele sprightly and Reine dignified.

It was Reine who spoke, her voice controlled and subdued, “We met in the receiving line, brother. Miss Darcy, we are the annoying younger sisters. Give him time and he shall tell you so himself.” She glanced to a solemnly nodding Sebastian, the merest hint of a twitch to her lips. “We felt it our duty as kinsman to rescue you from the fate worse than death—that is being tortured mercilessly with talk of notes and scores. The poor boy has no life beyond a pianoforte.”

“No life at all,” Adele agreed, dimples flashing. “He is, however, an excellent dancer. Do you not agree, Miss Darcy?”

“Most excellent.”

“No need to flatter, Adele. A promise is a promise, although why I should have to suffer having my feet mangled when it was my persuasion that convinced father to let you stay for the dancing is beyond my comprehension.”

She tossed her head, curls bobbing adorably, laughing and reaching to kiss her brother on the cheek. “He is the best brother in the world! And not completely dull, Miss Darcy, truly.”

“Actually, we were having a fascinating discussion about Moscheles and musical philosophy when you arrived. We are kindred spirits with a shared passion for music it appears.”

Both girls stared at her uncomprehendingly.

“As typical, you woefully misjudge your brother,” he said with a long-suffering sigh. “Some women do believe me charming and interesting.”

“Well, one anyway,” Reine offered with a smirk. “In that case, since Sebastian has miraculously unearthed a like soul, you must join us for tea tomorrow, Miss Darcy. We can entertain with tales of our dear brother while you two entertain with song.”

“Oh yes! You must!” Adele declared with a clap.

Georgiana glanced from one smiling face to the other. “If you are sure it is not an imposition?”