The Ladder Dancer (16 page)

She fluttered and simpered and disclaimed, but finally agreed to put her hand on his arm, and sailed off with a flushed face and a triumphant look at the other ladies who were hovering hopefully.

The harpsichord keeps in tune well in the Assembly Rooms; I put down the tuning key and glanced round before opening the music. And there at the back was Hugh, sauntering in, dressed in his favourite dark blue, attracting as large a cluster of ladies as Nightingale. With his arm in a sling, he contrived to look as romantic a figure as any lady could wish for.

And behind Hugh came Cuthbert Ridley.

I looked to the windows for Heron, but he was already pushing through the crowds. Ridley was staring round the assembled company with a look of amused contempt. Then a young lady nearby glanced round, and Ridley was instantly diffident, twisting his hands together and staring at his feet.

I glanced about for Nightingale. He was well out of Ridley’s way. He and Mrs Annabella had been caught in a cluster of ladies, all eager to be introduced. Mrs Annabella still had her hand on Nightingale’s arm but was looking a little put out by his attentions to the others, particularly as he interrupted her in the middle of a sentence. Mrs Jenison too hovered, looking uncertain. Nightingale bowed to one middle-aged lady, then another, had them all smiling and laughing at his
bons mots
. A few husbands looked disgruntled.

Then an even bigger attraction presented itself. Nightingale straightened. His mouth stretched into a gracious smile, his eyes fixed on a young lady coming towards him. Mrs Annabella pouted; Mrs Jenison seemed disapproving. The other ladies looked annoyed.

One of the matrons made the introduction. Nightingale bowed deeply over the hand of young Lizzie Ord. He must have said something complimentary for she blushed and gave him her fingers, but then couldn’t extricate them again and stood helplessly protesting as Nightingale acclaimed her beauty. She plainly felt trapped; she cast an appealing look over his shoulder, as if for help. I started up, but her husband was at her side at once.

Philip Ord is a jealous man. I didn’t hear what he said, but Nightingale let go of Lizzie’s hand and moved smoothly on to two others coming up behind her – a lady with her daughter, younger but not as pretty as Lizzie. ‘Heavens above!’ he cried. ‘I never saw a town so full of beauties!’

Lizzie gave me a mischievous look and went off to sit demurely by her husband on a sofa in a window embrasure. I laid out my music in the order Nightingale had mentioned – not that I expected him to do anything as simple as keep to what he’d said. Jenison came to collect his wife and sister. Heron, I noted, had taken a seat directly behind Ridley; Hugh and his adoring little court had settled into a cluster of chairs under one of the chandeliers, the ladies competing to find a cushion soft enough to place behind his injured arm. And – heavens above! – there was Kate in her yellow dress and a grin that she clearly imagined was gracious, making her way imperiously through the crowds.

Nightingale sauntered over to her. I watched them together. His attitude to her, I thought, was overfamiliar, but nothing suggested he had untoward designs on her; he was treating her like an amusing little pet who would entertain the company with its tricks. He went off again to be gracious to an elderly matron.

Esther stopped by the harpsichord for a moment. ‘It is agreeably busy,’ she said. ‘And Nightingale is making a distinct success with the ladies.’ She gave me an impish smile. ‘He has ignored me entirely. Walked straight past me. I was ready to take offence!’

I laughed. ‘He plainly has too great an opinion of your good sense; he knows he can’t twist you round his little finger.’

‘Nonsense,’ she murmured. ‘He clearly believes no lady can resist his charms.’

I nodded towards the other side of the room. ‘Mrs Jenison’s not particularly entranced. She doesn’t look well.’

The lady in question was sitting on a hard chair, listening to Mrs Annabella’s eager chatter with an air of great weariness.

Esther nodded. ‘She has a headache. I have already promised her one of my cordials. Well,’ she said sighing, ‘I had better greet one or two of my acquaintance or they will think I am snubbing them.’

She went off to talk to her friends, plainly not having seen Kate. The girl was looking a little lost; I smiled at her and she started across the room towards me. But Nightingale was striding up imperiously, bending across the harpsichord. ‘Devil take it! Why are you looking so sour? Smile, man, smile!’

He was on edge, I realized; the incident with Ord must have upset him more than he liked to show. I hesitated, but the matter could not be ignored. ‘Do you still intend the girl to perform?’

‘Damn it!’ he said. He glanced round, saw Philip Ord staring at him, and lowered his voice. ‘Don’t get so disapproving, man, I’m only humouring the girl. I’m not carrying her off to London or Edinburgh! God knows what they’d make of her there,’ he added contemptuously.

Kate, just behind him, stood stock still, face set hard.

I said, ‘It’s hardly kind to raise her expectations, then dash them.’

‘She’s a novelty, man! Novelties never last. Two or three concerts and that’s it.’

Considering Nightingale could himself be regarded in the light of a novelty, I thought his words remarkably imperceptive. But then, I’d come to realize, he was a man who saw what he wanted to see.

‘I still don’t —’

His short temper snapped. ‘It’s none of your business!’ And he strode off, finding his smiles again with difficulty.

Kate sauntered up to me, defiance in every line. ‘I’ll show him. He’ll not throw me off so easily. I want the fiddle.’

‘Kate—’

‘I want the fiddle!’

‘Fiddle?’ Philip Ord said sharply behind me. ‘The girl is not going to play, surely?’

I met his gaze, saw another hostile gentleman behind him. They could be the answer to my problem, I thought; armed with their opposition, both Kate and Nightingale might be easier to withstand. ‘I regret,’ I said, steeling myself for Kate’s fury, ‘that I’ve left the key of the instrument cupboard at home.’

Kate glared. ‘Go and get it, then.’

‘Young woman,’ Ord said frigidly. ‘Pray go back to your—’ He cast an eye down her gaudy dress, remembered he was amongst ladies and said, ‘To wherever you come from.’

Nightingale came sailing up again. ‘Katherine, my dear! No violin?’

‘I don’t have the key to the instrument cupboard,’ I repeated.

And to my astonishment, without further provocation, he flew into a huge rage, shrieking at me. ‘You thwart me! You want to ruin my performance? Jealousy, that’s what it is! Just because I have more talent than you can ever imagine—’

Kate jerked back, plainly forced herself to stand still. Esther came up behind her and put her hand reassuringly on her shoulder. The room was disturbingly quiet; I heard Mrs Jenison say faintly, ‘Oh dear.’ Ord’s face had turned purple with outrage.

‘Call yourself a harpsichord player? I’ve heard better playing from a pet monkey!
You
thwart
me
! Get that damned cupboard open and get the girl a fiddle. Who do you think you are, sir, to countermand me? How dare you? A provincial scraper and squaller . . .’

‘At least
he
is a gentleman,’ Ord said loudly.

Not a sound in the entire room. Over Nightingale’s shoulder, I saw Hugh staring and Ridley grinning. Heron stood up and walked towards us, hand on sword, footsteps echoing in the silence.

Everyone was looking at me expectantly. I had the feeling this was the crucial moment, the moment the ladies and gentlemen decided whether I was worthy of being accepted into their midst, or whether I remained forever an upstart who’d married above his station. What the devil was I to do? I knew what I
wanted
to do; I wanted to knock Nightingale flat on the floor. What would a
gentleman
do? I had a panicky feeling that swords at dawn were expected.

I said calmly, ‘Do you wish to continue the concert, sir?’

Nightingale stared, caught in the middle of another rant. He snarled, teeth bared. ‘I do not!’

‘Then there’s nothing more to be said.’ And I stood up, put the harpsichord lid down and locked it.

Nightingale glared at me. Then he drew himself up, and swung round to face the audience. ‘I will continue alone.’

Silence.

‘Vivaldi,’ he said loudly.

Hugh stood up, bowed elegantly to the ladies and turned for the door. He was the first but not the last. Several of the ladies rose with him; one said something about vulgar upstarts with no manners. Ord extended a hand to his wife; Lizzie, biting her lip, cast me a sympathetic look as she was led away. More than one lady ushered an excited young daughter to the door. Jenison watched horrified, as one by one the audience marched out.

As I made my own way down the side of the room, a lone figure at the back of the room stood up and started, in slow ironical fashion, to applaud loudly.

Cuthbert Ridley.

Twenty-One

The end of hubris is always disaster.

[
A Gentleman’s Companion
, December 1730]

The minute we were in the house Esther told Kate to go upstairs and change into ‘something more suitable’. Kate stood defiantly in the hallway in her gaudy yellow satin and glowered at us all. Heron strode straight into the drawing room, plainly in a foul temper.

‘Brandy, Tom,’ Esther said, handing her cloak to a maid. ‘And make up a tray for Kate to have in her room. Lemonade and something to eat.’

Tom retreated with ill-concealed relief. The gleam that was George lingered on the bottom of the banister. ‘I said girls aren’t any good, master.’

‘Not now, George.’

‘She’ll only be trouble!’

‘Go, George!’

‘You always tell me off, master!’ he said sullenly. ‘I don’t like you any more.’ And he shot off up the stairs.

We followed Heron into the drawing room. Esther sank down as if the afternoon had exhausted her. I tossed the music books on to one of the delicate chairs, gripped its back and hoped Tom would bring the brandy quickly. Damn Nightingale. He must have had experience of the humiliations musicians can suffer and to inflict that on a fellow performer was intolerable. And to involve a child like Kate!

Kate had come in with us and was standing with her arms folded around her as if she was cold. ‘It ain’t my fault,’ she said defiantly.

‘No one ever said it was,’ I agreed.

‘Quite entertaining, actually.’ Hugh lowered himself into one of the more comfortable armchairs, and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.

‘I never asked him to argue over me.’

‘I think this is a matter for the morning,’ Esther said. ‘When we are all less tired and irritable.’

‘I ain’t tired and I ain’t irritable! He’s ruined everything! Now I won’t get to play in the concert.’

Hugh cast me a warning glance but I was too tired even to think of placating Kate. ‘I wouldn’t have let you play anyway.’

‘It ain’t fair!’

‘It would not be proper,’ Esther said repressively. ‘There is only one opinion of women who play in public: their morals are loose, they have no virtue at all, and they are fair game for any man who wishes to try his luck!’

Kate glared and swung on her heels. ‘I’m off to find the old fellow.’

‘You are not.’

‘He’s the only one as wants me.’

‘And ask yourself why!’ Esther said in exasperation.

‘He’ll be drunk by now,’ Hugh pointed out. ‘Probably started drinking the moment he walked out of the Assembly Rooms.’

‘Hugh’s right,’ I said. ‘He won’t be capable of knowing what he’s doing. I’ll have a word with him in the morning.’

‘You’re only saying that!’

She was right; I’d merely been trying to placate her. I took a deep breath and considered more calmly. ‘No, I’ll go down to the Fleece first thing and sort everything out.’ It would hardly be a pleasant experience but quite apart from anything else I’d have to come to an accommodation with Nightingale or the series could never go ahead.

Kate stared. ‘Promise?’

‘Promise. Now go to your room and change.’

She glared, then turned and went up the stairs with ferocious dignity.

Heron was staring out of the window at the gardens, lit by the red glow of early evening sunshine. ‘Nightingale’s behaviour was unforgivable,’ he said curtly.

Esther nodded, plumped up one of the cushions with more force than was strictly necessary. ‘You can’t play for him again, Charles. After such insults, it would be unthinkable!’

I shifted the music to the floor and sat down on the worryingly delicate chair. I was weary out of all proportion to the time of day and the amount of physical exercise I’d had. Somehow, emotional upsets are always more tiring. That was plainly what had happened to Nightingale; the confrontation with Ord had unsettled him, affected his judgement. And we’d already clashed over Kate; he’d have been feeling defensive about that. Still, his behaviour had been unacceptable.

Tom brought the brandy and we all lapsed into silence until he bowed himself out again. Hugh was plainly seeing the humorous side of the affair, grinning as he sipped the brandy. ‘That’s the second vocal soloist you’ve seen off in two months, Charles! You’ll be getting yourself a reputation. There won’t be a singer in England who’ll come to the town.’

‘I cannot imagine what Jenison was thinking of to invite him in the first place,’ Heron said.

‘A ladder dancer,’ Esther said contemptuously.

‘The
master
ladder dancer.’ Hugh eased his arm, a little frown of pain between his eyes.

‘I have no doubt his act is entertaining,’ Esther said. ‘In its own way. However, it is not what I am looking for when I go to one of the subscription concerts.’

‘But you’re a newly married woman,’ Hugh said. ‘Nightingale’s exactly what most of the other ladies are looking for – you saw that for yourself. Mrs Jenison, Mrs Annabella, half a dozen others.’