Madrigals And Mistletoe Read Free

in a flutter of self-consciousness and made to resume her seat.
    Cordelia turned to Seraphina, anxious to get her moving before she was caught in the crush.
    â€œWait!” The loud, familiar and unmelodious voice of Lila Mersham rang out through the throng. Lady Dearforth, understanding that she was being addressed, indicated to her guests to resume their seats.
    â€œMiss Mersham?”
    The eyes of the crowd were upon her. Not even her mother, the Countess of Glaston, could bid her be silent. Lila’s eyes sparkled with the sudden attention. She curtsied and adopted an admirably coy expression that both Camfrey sisters found quite sickening.
    â€œBeg pardon, ma’am! I thought I might introduce to your attention our newest debutante, Miss Seraphina Camfrey!” Lila’s eyes narrowed slyly, but she maintained her simpering stance. She smiled effusively across the room, her eyes meeting those of her victim with a strange, menacing gleam. “Seraphina was wont to sing to us at Miss Caxton’s Seminary for Young Ladies. Perhaps she might favour us with a madrigal? Byrd or Gibbons was ever a favourite!”
    Miss Seraphina sat stock-still, her fan quivering appallingly in her hand. It seemed hours before she stirred, or Cordelia made faint protesting noises, but of course, it could have been no more than a matter of seconds. By that time, every jewelled head in the audience was unremittingly turned in her direction. There could be no crying headache—it would be churlish when her hostess was smiling at her with such gracious encouragement and half the room were clapping politely, murmuring, “Hear, Hear,” in spirited tones.
    Cordelia thought she ought to take out the smelling salts, for Seraphina looked deathly pale and unusually anguished given her devil-may-care nature. As she was opening her reticule, Seraphina stood up and made an acknowledging curtsy. She was nothing, if not brave, the youngest Miss Camfrey! Cordelia bit her lip and prayed for the best. Not Byrd! Seraphina only ever practiced Handel, for she adored his counterpoint and had a strange aptitude for that which she admired.
    In the event, it turned out to be a Purcell that was suggested to her. “Lost Is My Quiet Forever” was forwarded as a suggestion from Captain Sanderson, who also offered to play the opening bars. As Seraphina made her way to the front, Cordelia felt her fan snap between her fingers. Whilst she could still overwhelmingly feel the scorching scrutiny of the gentleman behind her, she no longer cared. All her thoughts were concentrated on her sibling. Cordelia prayed that the younger Miss Camfrey’s first season was not to be her last, for an outright humiliation would be something she would surely not bear. She prayed, too, that against all odds Seraphina could live up to her name and sing like an angel.

TWO
    Seraphina thanked Lady Dearforth and took the score from her hands. It was a complicated piece, hand inscribed, but she was, at least, familiar with the rudiments. She glanced at it frantically again, trying to recall the words, key and register. All eyes were upon her and it made not a whit of difference that, apart from Cordelia, she could easily be regarded as the most becoming young woman in the room. It was probably this very fact that had set off Lila’s malicious lark, so even if she had been aware of her appearance, it would have been cold comfort.
    She was surprised how steady her hands were in the circumstances. She would dearly like to have caught Cordelia’s eye, but Captain Sanderson had taken up his position and was waiting for her nod. Her heart thumped quite dreadfully and she hoped that the lump in her throat would make little difference to her performance. She looked at the notes again and they seemed to be swimming in front of her. She tried to remember the advice of her string of singing masters, but could recall none, save that she should keep her hands at her