The Keys of Love (5 page)

“What are you smiling at?” asked Eddie softly.

“Smiling? Was I?”

“Oh, yes.”

To her consternation, he leaned his elbows on the table and clasped his hands under his chin to gaze on her.

“You remind me of a song I wrote recently.”

Softly, Eddie began to sing.

“
Your eyes sparkle, 

like the sun on the sea, 

sparkle
for all men and never just me. 

I can't tell who you are or
what you are you mysterious girl! 

But I'm here to reveal

you set my heart a-whirl
.”

Henrietta felt her cheeks flush scarlet.

In the meantime both Captain and Mrs. Poody had stopped talking to listen.

“Why that's that's so
new world
,” exclaimed Mrs. Poody at the end of the song.

“Oh, our Eddie's a real new worlder,” explained the Captain pleasantly. “Even if he was born in London!”

“You were?” questioned Mrs. Poody.

“In Clapham,” nodded Eddie. “My parents came out to America in 1862. I was ten at the time. My Mum's brother had already emigrated to New York.”

Every so often Henrietta stole a glance at Eddie.

There was something engaging about him.

His brown hair fell over his eyes, which were warm and full of humour and he really did sing like a dream, but already he felt more like a brother to her than a suitor.

She sincerely hoped he was not going to court her, for she would never wish to wound him with a refusal.

“You will have a real treat Wednesday night, Mrs. Poody,” she heard the Captain saying to Nanny, “when the Eddie Bragg Orchestra play at dinner!”

There was a long silence, while Eddie stared down at his plate. At last he looked up.

“A problem, cousin. I've lost my piano player!”

“
Lost
him?”

“He didn't make departure. I waited for him on the quayside as long as I could. Stuck in some low down bar, I wouldn't wonder. But we're in real trouble for most of the programme. It's built around the piano.”

“Surely you can look for a replacement?” asked the Captain. “
Someone
on board must be able to play.”

“Of course,” came in Mrs. Poody, “Hen Harrietta there is most accomplished at the keyboard.”

Henrietta gazed at Nanny feeling flustered.

She wished her old nanny had not said it. She was getting so carried away with it all that she was beginning to forget that Henrietta was supposed to be Harrietta.

Eddie was now regarding her with renewed interest.

“You play?”

“She plays as good as anyone I've heard!” declared Mrs. Poody. “She was taught by her mother and
she
, bless her, studied at the Conservatoire in Paris.”

Eddie pushed back a lock of hair from his forehead.

“Can I hear you play?” he asked Henrietta urgently. “You just might be the answer. And boy, would you be easy on the eye!”

Henrietta stared at him in horror.

“I couldn't possibly,” she began and then her voice trailed away as she realised her predicament.

How could she possibly explain that the daughter of Lord Radford could not be seen performing in public with any orchestra in the world let alone with the Eddie Bragg Company of New York?

Such wayward behaviour would never be condoned in aristocratic circles!

The problem was, for the purposes of this voyage, she was not an aristocrat. She was just plain Miss Harrietta Reed and there was no protocol that she knew of to prevent a Miss Reed from playing at least for one night.

“Aw, don't be modest, just allow me to hear a few notes,” pleaded Eddie, misinterpreting her confusion.

“Go on,” encouraged Mrs. Poody, waving her fork at her charge. “I'm sure you would enjoy it.”

Henrietta toyed with the stem of her glass.

“Well ”

“Great!”

Eddie clapped his hands.

“After dinner, when everyone has left the dining room, you can try out on the grand over there.”

Turning, Henrietta could see a dais at the end of the room with a piano under a white sheet.

Now that Henrietta might prove to be the answer to his problem, Eddie appeared to see her in a new light. A professional rather than a romantic light.

He talked enthusiastically about his plans for his orchestra, the successful tour they had just completed in major American cities and a two-month run in New York.

They were booked to play at the
Haymarket
theatre in London for a season.

“What I really hope for,” he said dreamily, “is to be invited to play at all the great houses in England. Maybe even at Buckingham Palace!”

“A pity then that Lady Butterclere couldn't be with us tonight,” mused the Captain. “She is the stepsister of a Duke and is on her way to take up residence on his estate.”

Eddie shrugged.

“I wouldn't have thought she had a musical bone in her body.”

“Maybe not, but she moves in the right circles.”

“Does she live in America?” asked Mrs. Poody.

The Captain nodded.

“Seems she was widowed about twenty years ago, but was left without a bean by Lord Butterclere. So she came to America to look for a rich husband.”

Henrietta lifted her head with interest.

“Only she never found one, leastwise that anyone knows of,” the Captain continued.

“That anyone knows of ?” repeated Mrs. Poody.

The Captain grunted.

“There was talk she met someone out West. But why would she accept her stepbrother's offer of a home if she had a husband? Besides, she continues to call herself ‘Butterclere'.

“That she is,” agreed Eddie. “But who's the poor little mouse she's travelling with?”

“That lady is no mouse, but the intended fiancée of Lady Butterclere's stepbrother, the Duke of Merebury,” added Captain Hanket.

“How do you know?” demanded Mrs. Poody.

He stroked his beard with a twinkle in his eye.

“A Captain knows everything about his passengers, Mrs. Poody.”

Henrietta shrank into her seat. She sincerely hoped that was not true, at least not in her case!

Eddie seemed to read her thoughts.

“Ah-ah, but he doesn't know about
you
, Miss Reed! You're the enigma that appears on every voyage.”

The Captain laughed and pushed back his seat.

“I am just going to greet a few of the other diners. Then, Mrs. Poody, we'll go to the lounge for coffee. Eddie and Miss Reed have other business to attend to!”

Eddie stood up and held out his hand to Henrietta.

“Ready?”

She nodded and rose, taking his hand to be led over to the dais.

Eddie removed the white sheet from the piano.

“What're you going to play?” he asked as Henrietta sat down and ran her fingers over the keys.

She thought for a moment, her head on one side.

“A waltz,” she said at last.

“Okay. Fire away.”

The melody held her quickly in its grasp and she forgot all about her surroundings.

She was back at Lushwood, playing in the drawing room. The doors to the garden were open and a ray of soft sunshine fell on the carpet. Her beloved mother was there too, listening to the music with a smile on her face.

Tears welled up into Henrietta's eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she finished the piece and let her hands fall into her lap.

Eddie was silent for a moment.

“The keys sing under your fingers,” he said at last.

Henrietta gently closed the lid of the piano.

“So ?” she ventured, not knowing what response he actually desired.

“So you'll do,” responded Eddie softly.

His gaze lingered on her animated face, her pearly teeth visible between half-parted lips, her porcelain cheeks pink, her huge eyes moist with tears.

“Tomorrow I'll introduce you to the troop. They'll bleat a little at first you being a female and all but I'm sure they'll take to you.”

“And if they don't?”

“I'll have them all flogged and thrown overboard! Now let's go and join them in the lounge. I could sure use a glass of brandy!”

As Henrietta allowed herself to take Eddie's arm, she suddenly had to stifle a giggle.

She felt light headed at the thought of who she may become within the next few days!

“
Miss Harrietta Reed, pianist and member of the
Eddie Bragg Orchestra
!”

Henrietta frowned as she leafed through her gowns. Most of them seemed too girlish for a performer.

In the end she picked out a plain rose-coloured silk, to be matched with an ermine cape and long white gloves.

At the arranged time she entered the dining room.

Twenty pairs of eyes followed her as she walked to the dais, where Eddie was waiting for her.

She suddenly felt very shy as he gently turned her around to face the members of the orchestra, who lounged silently on their chairs below.

“Gentlemen,” he announced. “Here is our saviour, Miss Harrietta Reed,
pianiste extraordinaire
!”

“That will remain to be seen,” muttered one.

“Or rather heard,” said another, a bald man who sat before a kettle drum.

This was just the kind of reception Henrietta had expected and her spirits sank.

“Be not of faint heart,” whispered Eddie.

Henrietta sat down on the piano stool whilst Eddie positioned some music sheets before her.

“You can sight-read, I presume?” he asked.

“Of course,” replied Henrietta meekly.

“I'll turn the pages. Okay. Shoot.”

She laid trembling fingers on the keys and began to play.

Though her eyes were fully focused on the music displayed before her, Henrietta was still acutely aware of the critical gaze of her audience. She could not relax and soon she was stumbling over her notes.

She raised desperate eyes to Eddie and he held up his hand at once for her to stop.

“I don't think the dame is quite right for us, Eddie,” called out the clarinet player.

Eddie frowned and took the music from the stand.

“I-I'm sorry,” stammered Henrietta quietly.

She half rose, but Eddie waved her down again.

“Why don't you just play something you know and love, like you did last night? This stuff is new to you and needs practice. Show 'em what you can really do, huh?”

Henrietta hesitated.

“Go on,” urged Eddie. “You can do it.”

Henrietta thought a moment and then began to play a French air that her mother had taught her.

Her fingers fluttered lightly over the keys like birds in flight. She began to sway to the sounds that emerged melodiously from the piano.

Soon she forgot where she was eyes closed, she was transported to a dew-drenched garden under the moon. A tall figure came forward from the shadows the figure of a man, with aquiline features and dark, brooding eyes, his hair black as a raven's wing.

‘
How strange
,' she thought dreamily. She did not recognise the gentleman at all.

The music flowed and as it neared the end, it rose into a trill of delicate notes like birdsong at dawn.

Henrietta opened her eyes on the final flourish.

She waited, head lowered, for the verdict.

“Bravo!” called a voice from the dining room floor.

Suddenly the whole of the orchestra were clapping. She looked up, astonished, and could see Eddie beaming.

“You've done it, Miss Reed,” he cried.

“I-I have?”

“Sure.”

He held out his hand to her.

“Welcome to the Eddie Bragg Orchestra.”

“W-what happens now?” she asked.

“We rehearse!”

Henrietta spent the morning rehearsing with the rest of musicians. Now she was more confident, soon mastering the melodies for which the Eddie's orchestra was famous.

After the rehearsal finished Eddie introduced her to the individual musicians.

Trescot, the trumpeter, looked her up and down.

“That's a pretty outfit, but shouldn't she be wearing something a little more eye-catching for the performance?”

Eddie pondered.

“Miss Reed, what else have you brought with you?”

“I don't have anything more suitable than this,” she confessed, looking from Trescot to Eddie helplessly.

Trescot turned to Eddie.

“My Kitty has a few colourful frocks.”

“Kitty is his er companion,” Eddie explained to Henrietta. “She's the only woman on the trip with us.”

He suggested that they visit Trescot's cabin to take a look at Kitty's wardrobe.

Once again Henrietta found herself in the Second Class section of the ship.

She drew her cape over her shoulders and glanced nervously around as Trescot opened the door to his cabin.

“Kitty's here,” he called over his shoulder as Eddie and Henrietta entered behind him.

A plump woman with tousled hair inspected them from her bunk. She was lying one arm under her head with her features almost hidden under wreaths of cigar smoke.

“Kitty, we've got a piano player!” Eddie told her, indicating Henrietta. “Thing is, she didn't board the ship expecting a new career, so she has nothing suitable to wear for tonight. Have you anything she could borrow?”

Kitty gestured to a trunk, which stood half open and still unpacked in the corner of the cabin.

Eddie and Trescot started pulling garments from the trunk, while Henrietta looked away as garish camisoles and bodices landed in a heap with gaudy skirts and frocks.

All the while she was aware of Kitty regarding her with lazy amusement.

“Hey, this looks possible.”

Eddie now held up a deep scarlet gown with puffed sleeves and plunging neckline.

“Are you sure?” asked Henrietta dubiously.

“Absolutely!” said Eddie cheerfully. “It will add a real touch of glamour. Why don't you try it on for size?”